Surrender to the Sheikh

It seemed unbelievable that such an extraordinary building could ever be described by the comfortable word ‘home’.

‘How could I not like it?’ she questioned simply.

Khalim’s mouth hardened. Was she really as guileless as she seemed? Or was she cynically aware that her eyes were like dazzling blue saucers when she spoke with such emotion, their light lancing straight to his very heart?

He shook his head slightly in negation. He wanted her body, that was all.

That was all.

‘Tell me what to expect when we arrive,’ said Rose, wondering why he was scowling when all she had done was tell him she liked his home.

Sometimes, he reflected ruefully, she sounded as if she were the one expressing a royal command! ‘My mother and sisters have their own section of the palace—we will join them for dinner and you will meet them then. You will have your own suite of rooms, and a girl will be assigned to look after your needs.’

‘And your father?’

‘My father lives in a different section of the building.’

She hesitated. ‘Because he’s sick, you mean?’

Khalim frowned. ‘You are very persistent, Rose! No, not simply because he is sick—it is our royal custom. Princes of Maraban do not sleep with their women, not even their wives.’

Rose looked at him in disbelief. ‘You mean that they just go and have sex with them, and then go back to their own apartments?’

‘Sometimes they remain there for the night,’ he informed her benignly, though he could not imagine leaving her alone for one precious second of the night.

‘Lucky old them!’ said Rose sarcastically.

‘Actually,’ he iced back, ‘they would show gratitude, yes!’

‘For being downtrodden, you mean?’

‘I think you forget yourself, Rose!’ he snapped.

‘I think not! I am not your royal subject, Khalim! And if I have an opinion which happens to differ from yours—well, that’s just tough!’

He had never felt so turned on by a woman in his life and the desire to kiss her was overwhelming. But by then the car was driving slowly into the inner courtyard where trees provided a welcome shade—the sunlight dappling through broad, verdant leaves. Khalim clicked his tongue with irritation as the chauffeur opened the door for her.

But when Rose alighted from the car, she was hit with the most unforgettable and heady fragrance, so powerful that it halted her in her tracks.

‘What is that amazing scent?’ she whispered, their disagreement forgotten.

A sense of destiny whispered disturbing fingers over his flesh. ‘It is the fragrance of the roses which bloom in the palace gardens,’ he murmured, watching as the sun turned her hair into a gold just a shade lighter than the palace itself. ‘The sweetest scent in the world—but you must wait until the evening time, when the perfume is increased by a hundredfold.’

But as they walked side by side towards a pair of vast, ornate doors, he thought that no scent could be sweeter than the subtle perfume which drifted from her skin, more beguiling than any siren.

Robed figures awaited them, and Rose was introduced, certain that she would never be able to remember all these new and unusual names. The men all bowed courteously but she could detect flashes of curiosity on their hard, dark faces. I wonder if they approve of me, she thought, but then found Khalim’s gaze on her face, more encouraging than she could have believed it would be, and she felt the warmth of his protection.

And all the while she felt that they were surrounded by other watchers, by unseen eyes. She caught a brief glimpse of a young woman, spectacularly clad in crimson silk, but when she turned her head to get a better look the woman had disappeared again.

Khalim followed the direction of her gaze. ‘Fatima!’ he called, and the young woman reappeared, only her eyes visible above a scarlet yashmak.

She performed an elaborate sort of bow, and Khalim said, ‘This is Rose Thomas. I have brought her here to do a job for me. I want you to make sure that she has everything she needs. Say hello now, Fatima.’

‘Good afternoon,’ said Fatima, in a soft, halting English accent. ‘I am pleased to meet you.’

Khalim laughed. ‘Fatima is learning English!’

‘I’m impressed,’ said Rose gravely. ‘And rather ashamed that my Marabanese only amounts to about five words.’