The Sultan's Choice

He snaked a proprietorial hand around her middle and felt triumphant when she relaxed against him. He could also feel when she gave up trying to articulate a reponse. He had to grit his teeth to fight the desire to move his hand down underneath those tight jodphurs to feel if his arousal pressing into her bottom was having as incendiary an effect on her as it was on him.

The rest of the ride home was as torturous as it was curiously exhilarating.

A few hours later Samia stepped out of her shower to dry off, and couldn’t stop remembering how Sadiq’s arousal had felt against her bottom. By the time they’d got back to the castle she’d been as weak as a kitten, all but slithering off the horse into his waiting arms.

His chief aide had been hopping up and down, babbling something about a meeting and people waiting. Sadiq had let her go after a long moment and reminded her, ‘The function is tonight. I’ll come for you at seven.’

And Samia had watched him walk away, disorientated and seriously bewildered by all the emotions he was arousing within her. She’d forgotten entirely about the function.

A knock came to her bathroom door then, and Samia jumped, putting her towel around her firmly before opening it to see Alia outside with a long dress on a hanger. She was dressed as all of Sadiq’s servants were dressed, in impeccable white. ‘I’m ready to dress you, Your Highness.’

Samia smiled at the girl, despite her sudden trepidation at the prospect of the evening ahead. ‘Okay, I’ll be right out.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

AN hour later Samia was waiting nervously for Sadiq. When the knock came on her door Alia opened it and stood back to let Sadiq come in, curtseying as he did so. Samia didn’t notice Alia slip out, or the door close. All she saw was Sadiq in a dark tuxedo, looking almost criminally handsome, and she couldn’t help but think back to that evening in the study and the singular way he’d made love to that woman. Almost as if he was looking to assuage that ennui Samia had witnessed.

He came into the room, hands in his pockets, and just looked at her for such a long, silent moment that Samia forgot about painful memories and put a nervous hand to her hair, which Alia had put in a complicated chignon. ‘Alia said it was more appropriate to have it up with a dress like this.’

Sadiq quirked a small smile, making his teeth flash and heat bloom between Samia’s thighs. ‘You haven’t looked at yourself yet?’

She flushed and shook her head, hating that he’d seen that vulnerability before.

‘Come here,’ he said, so softly that she almost didn’t hear. But then she saw the impatience on his face and moved forward, her legs touching the silk of the dress, feeling unbearably decadent. She couldn’t read Sadiq’s expression, but something in it made her nerve-endings jump and sizzle. Goosebumps broke out across her skin as she stopped in front of him, and once again he took her shoulders and turned her around to face the mirror.

Reflexively Samia looked away, and heard him sigh expressively behind her. She had to get over this—so she looked back. And saw someone else standing in the mirror. For a split second she didn’t actually recognise herself. The woman reflected back was a woman, not a girl, with her hair up and twisted into loose waves which made her neck look long and elegant.

Shadow on her eyes made them look smokily blue, the lashes long and spiky. A flush stained her cheeks and her lips looked moist and pink. Bare shoulders showed off pale skin, and when her eyes dropped they widened to see how the bodice of the silvery grey dress produced a gravity-defying cleavage.

Her eyes snapped up to Sadiq’s. She brought her hands up to cover her chest. ‘I had no idea—’

He smiled. ‘That you had breasts?’ He turned her around and kept his hands on her shoulders, burning her skin. ‘Well, you do. And you look.’ His gaze dropped and came back up. ‘Beautiful.’

Samia opened her mouth and Sadiq put his hand over it, stopping her.

‘No. I don’t want to hear one word of doubt again. We will be presented to the world tonight, and you need to start believing in yourself—because if they sense even a hint of insecurity they will pounce.’

He took his hand away and Samia’s mouth closed. She felt wobbly inside and all over. This whole scene was so far removed from anything she’d expected. Was he saying this just to bolster her confidence before they appeared in public? But the faint incredulity in Sadiq’s tone when he’d said she was beautiful made her believe that perhaps he had meant it. After all, she hardly even recognised herself.

He reached into a pocket then, and pulled out a small velvet bag, opening it up to let two stunning platinum and diamond earrings fall into his hand. He handed them to Samia.

She took in a shaky breath and turned to look in the mirror to put them on. They were long and ornately elaborate, without being over the top, and swung against her neck, sparkling when she moved. She looked up at Sadiq and said huskily, ‘Thank you. I’ll take good care of them for the evening.’

He looked slightly bewildered by her reaction. ‘They’re yours, Samia. Everything I give you now is yours to keep.’

Sadiq took her hand to lead her from the room and the chaste gesture suddenly felt very intimate—because no one was there, so he didn’t have to do it. Just as he didn’t have to kiss you in the desert today. But he did.

She saw him spot the perfume bottle he’d gifted her on a table, and said hastily, while trying to block out the memory of the overpowering smell, ‘Thank you for the perfume too.’

Dryly he said, ‘And yet you don’t wear it?’

Samia blushed behind him, cursing his powers of observation—and smell. ‘I … it’s lovely, but it’s just a bit strong for me.’

He looked back as they reached the door, grimacing slightly. ‘I realised it was all wrong for you today. I’ve already commissioned another scent and it should be ready for our wedding.’

‘Okay,’ Samia replied ineffectually as she followed him out. She was a little poleaxed at his admission that he’d realised it was wrong for her, and suddenly all those vulnerable feelings were back. She knew that if the next scent was anything close to something she’d have picked her herself she’d be in a lot of trouble.

On their walk to the main part of the castle they passed ancient stone walls with soaring ceilings, and tiny open-air courtyards where exotic peacocks stepped carefully among the plants. Burning flame lanterns lit their way, making the mosaics on some parts of the walls glint, effervescent in the light. It was truly breathtaking, and yet somehow diminished by the tall man who held Samia’s hand. It was almost impossible to think of this intimidating castle as her home. And of this man as her husband.