Pregnant By The Desert King

‘What do you do with a woman you can’t read?’ he asked Khalid as his friend joined him out on deck.

‘Bed her?’

‘That’s not helpful.’

‘It’s always a good start,’ Khalid argued with an ironic smile.

Everything on board the Sapphire was geared towards seduction tonight, Tadj thought as they both pulled away from the rail. An army of talented florists was currently adding last-minute touches to the container-loads of exotic blooms.

‘You’ll be staying in the Golden Suite,’ Khalid informed him, ‘if that suits you. Make the most of it while you can.’

They shared a wry laugh. ‘That temple to all things gold,’ Tadj commented. ‘It’s enough to put anyone off their stride with the addition of those outrageous erotic hangings.’

‘Not you, my friend,’ Khalid assured him. ‘I would have thought you found those hangings rather tame.’

‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were trying to set me up with this woman,’ Tadj responded.

‘How could that be true?’ Khalid queried. ‘I’ve only just learned about her. But, good hunting—you’d be surprised how many women are delighted to be seduced in the Golden Suite.’

‘No doubt spurred on by the inspiration provided by the artwork,’ Tadj commented dryly. ‘But this one’s different.’

‘Different how? She’s a woman, isn’t she?’

Seeing his expression, Khalid shrugged. ‘You’ve got it bad, my friend.’

* * *

Bad? Tadj ground his jaw as he sprang out of the Sapphire’s lap pool. Bad was putting it mildly. Grabbing a towel, he dried his exercise-pumped body with impatience. Warnings should be issued with Lucy, that she could change the direction of his thoughts within ten minutes of meeting her. Even exercise hadn’t helped him today. He’d never known anything like this. Women didn’t get to him; he got to them. Lucy was so young and unsophisticated, she couldn’t know the tricks that others played. Funny, blunt and challenging, she was absolutely irresistible, and irresistible was the one thing he didn’t need. His usual type knew the score, and were sophisticated enough to use him for what they wanted, without complication. The feeling was mutual, but he couldn’t be that way with Lucy. Innocence came at a price, and, though he was no saint, the thought of waking her to physical pleasure was driving him crazy.

Having dressed and checked every timepiece and lump of tech on board in order to convince himself that minutes really could tick by so slowly, he parked the shave and transferred his pacing from ship to shore. He hadn’t experienced this level of anticipation since he’d been an overeager youth. When he spotted Lucy standing in the doorway of the laundry, it was as if an atomic reaction went off in his brain. They locked eyes, and he walked towards her. It was the challenge on her face that aroused him. Her body language said she knew who he was, and intended to make him pay for withholding the information.

‘You have a lot of explaining to do,’ she said.

All he was aware of now was her intoxicating wildflower scent.

‘Am I late?’ he said, glancing at his wristwatch and frowning, as if he didn’t know what she meant.

‘Don’t try that on me,’ she warned him, narrowing her astonishing jade-green eyes in the very best type of threat.

‘Good evening to you too,’ he murmured mildly, maintaining eye contact.

‘Good evening, Your Majesty.’

‘My name is Tadj,’ he reminded her quietly.

‘The Emir of Qalala, I believe.’

He wanted to kiss her as her expressive mouth twisted in a wry smile.

‘What are you doing?’ she protested as he dragged her close.

‘What does a title change about me?’

‘Everything,’ she said as he brushed her lips teasingly with his. ‘Are you going to let me go now?’

‘No.’

The first kiss was extraordinary in that it fired every part of him, and made it vital there were more. ‘Let’s start over,’ he said, releasing her before she was quite ready. ‘Good evening,’ he murmured.

‘Good evening, Your Majesty,’ she teased him, still trying to catch her breath. They stared at each other with a mixture of acceptance and humour. ‘You’ve got a long way to go to recover your credibility,’ she warned, testing her kiss-bruised lips with the tip of her tongue.

‘More tolerance required,’ he suggested.

‘On my part?’ she queried.

‘Yes, on your part,’ he confirmed. ‘Shall we?’ He glanced in the direction of the super yacht.

The Sapphire was a fabulous vessel. Even he was impressed from here, where he could appreciate every inch of it, blazing with light from bow to stern. Party planners had been working tirelessly all day to create a fairyland for the guests, and, though she might still be reeling from the unexpected start to their evening, even Lucy couldn’t hide her excitement.

‘No more deception, and no more surprises,’ she warned as they approached the security gates. ‘Promise—or I’m not going any further.’

‘When you look at me like that...’

‘What?’ she murmured, her eyes darkening.

He would promise her almost anything, he thought, but sensibly confined himself to a wry smile and a shrug.

‘So you’re really the Emir of Qalala?’ she said as the security guards waved them through.

‘I really am,’ he confirmed.

‘I’m impressed.’

‘No, you’re not,’ he argued with amusement. ‘Not by my title, anyway.’

‘Are you always so confident?’

‘Always.’ Except for tonight, he thought, because Lucy was a whole new experience.

‘You’re one of the infamous Sapphire Sheikhs,’ she observed. ‘That alone is supposed to impress me, isn’t it?’

‘Legendary, rather than infamous, I’d hope.’

She shrugged and halted. ‘You should have told me you’re one of the world’s richest men.’

‘Told you, why?’ he asked. They were approaching the gangplank where a queue of guests was forming.

‘Because it makes us very different,’ she said.

‘If we’re so ill matched, why are you here? For a glimpse into the life of the super-rich?’

‘That’s part of it,’ she admitted frankly.

If he’d been looking for a smooth-tongued casual date, a woman who would do and say everything she could to impress him, he’d got it badly wrong—and thank goodness for that!

CHAPTER FOUR

‘SIR...’

One of the security guards, having recognised Tadj, escorted them to a second boarding point a bit further along than the first.

‘What’s that the other guests are holding?’ Lucy asked him as she gazed at those queuing patiently to have their identities checked before being allowed on board.

This was her first taste of life on the other side of the Sapphire Sheikh divide, he reminded himself as he explained, ‘Sheikh Khalid’s invitations have been issued in silver boxes, studded with sapphires.’

‘Recyclable, I hope,’ she teased him with a cheeky smile.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed, matching her mood. ‘The box has to be large enough to hold a passport and other documentation, such as a visa.’

‘You need passports to get on board?’ Lucy exclaimed, staring up at him with an engaging mix of indignation and surprise.

‘Only when certain guests disembark in certain countries,’ he explained with a shrug. ‘The party doesn’t last for one night,’ he added when she looked at him in bemusement. ‘It lasts at least a week.’

‘Not for me, it doesn’t,’ she assured him. ‘And, anyway, I don’t have my passport with me.’

‘None needed,’ he confirmed. ‘The umbrella of diplomatic immunity covers both of us.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ she said, turning serious and concerned. ‘I haven’t signed up for a cruise. A couple of hours with you will be enough.’

‘For me too,’ he assured her dryly.

They laughed so easily now, but then she flashed him a look to warn that her next statement must be taken seriously. ‘I have to be back by midnight,’ she said, ‘or alarms will ring at the laundry, and the police will come looking for me. I made sure everyone knows where I am tonight,’ she explained.

‘Nice to know you trust me,’ he mocked lightly, ‘but sensible.’

‘I thought so,’ she agreed. ‘I don’t take chances.’

‘Nor should you,’ he confirmed as a uniformed officer stepped forward to escort them on deck. He liked Lucy more and more, and couldn’t help comparing her to all the other women who wound around him like clinging vines in the hope that things might progress. Not Lucy. She slapped her cards down on the table face up, no nonsense.

‘So, Your Importance,’ she murmured as they walked ahead of the other guests, ‘privilege all the way for you. What am I supposed to call you in front of people?’

‘Nothing rude.’

‘Then, be nice to me.’

‘I intend to be,’ he assured her. ‘Call me Tadj—or Lord and Master, if you prefer.’

‘Tadj will do nicely,’ she said.

‘Sir...’

‘Yes?’ He glanced sideways at the officer detailed to escort them.

‘Sheikh Khalid is waiting to greet you.’

He glanced up and saw his striking friend watching their embarkation with amusement. ‘Of course,’ he murmured, acknowledging the officer with a brief dip of his head. ‘Come on,’ he added to Lucy. ‘There’s a lot I want you to see before you meet our host.’ He didn’t feel like sharing her. ‘I don’t want you to miss a single moment on board the Sapphire tonight.’

His determination intensified as Lucy’s eyes sparkled with excitement; whether that was for him, or for this fabulous event, for once, he didn’t know.

* * *

This was partying on a scale Lucy could never have imagined, even in her wildest fantasy. Jewel-studded boxes to hold the invitations...guests in diamonds, exuding clouds of exclusive scent...limos lined up on the dock as more guests arrived, and then those guests being made to stand in line while Lucy walked past on the arm of the Emir of Qalala. That was just crazy. Accepting that a vessel as huge as the Sapphire was privately owned took another immense leap of faith. There were so many decks, so many bands playing, so many guests milling about, and floral installations beyond magnificent that gave Kew Gardens at the height of summer a run for its money. The scent of blossom was intoxicating, as was the tang of ozone, but, above everything else, it was the smell of money, of outrageous wealth, that really threatened to choke her.

‘Feeling nauseous?’ Tadj commented when she made a noise down deep in her throat. ‘And we’re not even moving yet.’

‘Nor will we, I hope,’ she said, recovering fast. ‘At least, not while I’m on board. I’m just feeling a bit out of place,’ she admitted, ‘amongst all these diamonds and pin-thin figures dressed in designer clothes.’

‘Nonsense,’ Tadj insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘You’re the most beautiful woman here. And the most intelligent.’

‘Did you give everyone an IQ test?’ she queried, with the reminder not to take herself so seriously. ‘Okay, so you know most of the women here,’ she remarked with a grin, as Tadj looked at her in a certain way. ‘I should have known.’

‘Most of them aren’t renowned for their academic qualifications,’ he admitted, ‘but they have other qualities.’

‘Spare me,’ she begged. ‘I don’t need a rundown of the sordid details.’

‘Relax. Enjoy yourself,’ he advised.

Why not? This was incredible. ‘Thank you for inviting me,’ she said. It was just unfortunate that her gaze slipped to his mouth as she added, ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before.’

He laughed softly down deep in his chest. ‘Feast your eyes,’ he invited.

She would. This was the Emir of Qalala, and the Emir of Qalala had kissed her. She had no idea if he would ever do so again, but she would remember that kiss for the rest of her life. He was one hot guy, so why not enjoy this as Tadj suggested? It wasn’t every day that fantasy turned into the best type of reality. She liked him more and more. He was courteous and fun to be with, and as hot as hell.

‘Drink?’ he suggested.

‘Sparkling water, please.’ Must keep a level head, she warned herself, and something told her that wouldn’t be easy tonight.

‘Sparkling water, mademoiselle?’ a steward invited, handing Lucy a crystal glass.

‘Are you hungry?’ Tadj enquired when the steward had left them.

‘Shouldn’t we go and meet our host?’ she asked, wishing her body wouldn’t respond quite so willingly to the amused heat in Tadj’s eyes.

‘No hurry. The other guests will keep him busy for a while.’

‘I’m okay with water for now, thank you.’ How could she eat while her senses were being subjected to an overload of testosterone? Tadj made her long for all things forbidden, and she had to remind herself that she was nothing more than a dockside novelty for him.

Several wine fountains had been installed on board the Sapphire, and it was here that couples seemed to be congregating. She couldn’t stop staring at them—arms entwined, bodies touching, laughing intimately into each other’s faces.

‘Would you like me to fill your glass?’ Tadj prompted with a curving smile as he glanced at the glittering stream.

For a moment she was lost for words, and then came to with a jolt. ‘No, thank you. I’m steering clear of the hard stuff tonight, and only drinking water.’

He laughed. ‘Sensible.’

‘Always,’ she confirmed.

They stared at each other for a few potent moments, during which time Tadj looked like a mythical hero, while she tried to stop her cheeks flaming red. But if there was a cure for blushing, she hadn’t found it yet, something to do with her pale Celtic skin that showed every emotion whether she wanted it to or not.

‘Why did you invite me tonight?’

‘Fireworks,’ he said.

She blinked and then realised what he meant as plumes of light began to explode all around the ship. ‘I really want to know,’ she pressed.

This was dangerous. She was always so cool where men were concerned, and with good reason, having the experience of her stepfather behind her, but with Tadj cool was becoming increasingly impossible.

‘Look!’

His touch on her arm made her jump, and it took her a moment to follow his stare to the circus performers in glittering green costumes, swinging high over their heads. She gasped, and not just because of the risks the acrobats were taking, but because Tadj had swung an arm possessively around her shoulders, which was a risk right here.

‘And down there,’ he said as she was about to wriggle free.

And breathe, Lucy instructed herself firmly, making herself relax as Tadj turned her to see the fire-eaters and jugglers performing.

‘We’ve got a lot more to see,’ he said as he moved and took her with him across the deck.

He wasn’t joking. The next place they stopped had been transformed into a souk, complete with flower stalls and food outlets, as well as flashy gifts of every type. The attendants behind the stalls were exotically and colourfully robed, and played a good part as they shouted their wares to the passing guests. No money changed hands, and there was quite a crowd competing for the hats, shawls, beads and ornaments, with which to adorn their designer clothes.

‘This isn’t a party, it’s a theatrical production,’ Lucy commented as she glanced up at Tadj.

‘One man’s ludicrous is another man’s normal,’ he remarked. ‘And you look sensational, by the way,’ he added as they walked on. ‘No need for strings of beads, or even a hat to hide your face.’

‘Watch it, mister,’ she said, smiling as she faked a punch, and Tadj ducked. ‘Actually, you don’t look bad yourself, now I take a proper look...’ Massive understatement. Tadj looked sensational in nothing more than a pair of well-cut jeans and an open-neck shirt, with a casual jacket left open to reveal his powerful chest. He could have worn a boiler suit, and still looked fabulous. Better still naked, she thought.

And here she was in borrowed clothes, carrying the flag for her friends. Tipping up her chin, she met his teasing stare head-on, and was rewarded by the warmth in Tadj’s eyes. Make that heat, she thought as her body responded with enthusiasm.

‘Champagne?’ Tadj proposed as he selected two crystal flutes from a tray a passing waiter was carrying.

‘No, thanks. I’m a cheap drunk, so I’ll stick to water, if you don’t mind. And even if you do,’ she added good-humouredly. Tonight was going better than expected—far better than she’d dared to hope.

‘To us,’ he said as they raised their glasses.

‘To a wonderful evening,’ Lucy replied, calling on her natural caution. She might be having the time of her life—might have kissed the hottest man at the party, but she had no intention of completely losing her head.

Tadj achieved the impossible, by finding them a quiet and sheltered spot on the Sapphire’s crowded deck. Taking her glass out of her hand, he put it down next to his. Was he going to kiss her again? Every part of her body tingled at the thought. She could feel him in every fibre of her being, as if he were the virtuoso who had temporarily laid aside his violin. Her strings were certainly twanging at the memory of his touch, Lucy thought, carefully concealing her amusement at a body running riot while the sensible head supposedly guiding it was temporarily unavailable.

‘It’s so beautiful here,’ she said, looking around. The floral decorations were incredible, though the blossom was in a more restrained colour palette than the rest of the Sapphire, as if this area had been designed for lovers. It was like standing in the middle of a fragrant ocean of palest pink and white. Drawing on the heady scent, she closed her eyes, only for the unwelcome thought that she should be leaving soon to pop into her head. ‘Tadj, I...’

‘Tadj what?’ he murmured.

He’d dipped his head to stare into her eyes, and their mouths were almost touching.

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