Claimed by the Sheikh

‘When I leave, it will be with you or not at all and, as I have no wish to be seen on the streets of Paris with a stripper, I suggest you get dressed.’ He stepped into the room, drawn to her, until her sharp words halted him, making him stand firm once more.

‘I am not a stripper.’ Shock resonated in her voice and she stepped back from him, as if burnt by his words.

‘From what I recall, you are very, how shall I say, rehearsed at taking your clothes off.’ He remembered again their wedding night, the teasing way she’d removed the silk that had covered her body, tossing it carelessly around the suite. ‘Isn’t that what you did on our wedding night?’

Her lips pursed and she took in a deep breath. The shock and anger of finding out she worked in such a place still roared in his blood. Her claim that nobody knew her real identity was certainly true. It had taken several months to track her down.

‘I am a waitress.’ She emphasised the last word vehemently.

‘That may be so, but I saw what was going on out there when I came in.’

‘What you saw, Kazim, was dancing.’ Her hands pressed heavily against her hips, anger rolling off her in furious waves.

He frowned and stifled a smile of triumph as he saw a flush of irritation cross her face. He didn’t say anything more, just raised his brows in question.

‘Have it your way.’ She shrugged her shoulders and turned her back to him. ‘But if you want me to change so that I look less like a stripper, at least make yourself useful and undo me.’

At first he could only look at her bare shoulders, her dusky skin so tantalising that he wanted to trail his fingertips across her back. He looked at the seemingly endless hooks which fastened the corset tightly around her body and scrunched his fingers hard into the palms of his hands. What was she trying to do to him?

‘It will be much quicker if you do it for me and, as you’ve locked the door, nobody else is going to come in and help me any time soon.’ She stood resolutely with her back to him, impatience in every word she said.

He sighed, beginning to open the fastenings, his fingers brushing against the warmth of her skin. He gritted his teeth hard against the onslaught of desire that flooded him, angry she could have such an effect on him.

Kazim thought back to their wedding night. Amber had surprised him that night when he’d told her to return to her family. She hadn’t dissolved into female hysteria and had shown strength she’d kept hidden from him during their short engagement—strength he now saw again.

‘What’s wrong with your father?’ Her soft voice rushed him back from the past and he baulked against painful memories as the last of the fastenings on the corset opened, revealing the enticing smoothness of her back. She distracted him from everything at that moment—his reason for being here and the trauma of his childhood.

He couldn’t take his eyes from her as she clutched the costume against her and hurried behind a screen. Seconds later, the garish outfit was slung over the top of the screen and his mind raced into overdrive, colliding with images from their one night together. It was almost as if she was deliberately distracting him—again.

What had she been saying? Quickly he gathered his thoughts. ‘He is frail and weak.’ On the outside, at least. He kept the words calm, devoid of emotion, because he didn’t want to allow himself to think. Not even for a moment. He closed his eyes, forcing down the memories he would have to carry for the rest of his life.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Her soft words rescued him from thinking as she came out from behind the screen, dressed in jeans, long boots and a chunky knitted jumper. She didn’t look anything like the woman he’d married. Nobody would ever know who she was—a princess on the run. No wonder she had managed to blend in with those around her in this unsavoury part of Paris so successfully.

‘That is why you must come back to Barazbin. I am the sole heir.’ He resisted the urge to tell her that their marriage must provide heirs for the country. That was a given fact.

She shook her head. ‘No, Kazim, that’s never going to happen.’

He sighed impatiently. ‘I am concerned for our people. There is trouble within our lands and our nomadic tribes are paying a high price. Your absence has brought my ability to rule into doubt. You will come back with me.’ He watched as she pulled on her coat and picked up her bag. It was as if she wasn’t listening. ‘Amber. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

* * *

Irritation surged through Amber, instantly replacing the softer emotion she’d felt for Kazim as he’d told her about his father. ‘Oh, I understand, Kazim.’ She reached behind the formidable figure of her husband and unlocked the door, wondering why she hadn’t thought to do that earlier and throw him out. But one look at his face, as their eyes collided, told her why.

There was something between them, something undeniable. Irritation verged on anger at his demands and she pulled hard at the door. ‘You think you can send me away and order me back at your whim.’

With lightning speed Kazim turned, pressed his hand against the door, his height towering over her. She looked at the long tanned fingers of his hand and shook her head. ‘Let me out, Kazim, or I will call security.’

‘Security? In a place like this?’ An icy edge had crept into his voice and she looked up into eyes so cold, so devoid of emotion, she had to stifle a gasp. ‘I would be interested to see how they handle it, a man and his wife wanting to talk.’

‘I don’t feel like your wife, Kazim. It has been ten months since we married and this is the first time I have seen you.’ Did he really think he could play that card on her?

All the hurt and anger she’d kept inside her since that night bubbled up, giving her the confidence to face the man who had broken her heart and shattered her foolish dreams.

‘We married out of duty, Amber, never forget that.’ His calm voice was full of authority, his expression harsh and forbidding. ‘And now my duty is to return to Barazbin—with you.’

She laughed, a nervous laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. For a moment, confusion raced across his handsome face and her laughter died. She didn’t know that much about the man she’d married, but she did know he commanded authority and didn’t expect anyone to challenge his decisions. As the son of the Sheikh of Barazbin, Kazim didn’t lack any of the power his father possessed. He was powerful, both in business and position, and right now she was left in no doubt of just how much.

‘I haven’t got time to discuss this now,’ she said, looking boldly up at him. ‘I need to go home before the manager realises I’m still here and...’ Her words faltered for a moment and, like a hawk, Kazim pounced on it.

‘And what, Amber?’ He leant his shoulder casually against the door, folded his arms and looked down at her, making her feel as if she were a petulant child that had just been scolded.

Amber thought of all the times the manager had tried to force her to dance, insisting her talents were wasted as a waitress. He’d taken every opportunity he could to try and push her into dancing and if she lingered here any longer he would think she had changed her mind. Kazim’s brooding presence wouldn’t be any kind of defence because she had no intention of admitting to anyone he was her husband.

‘He will think I want more work,’ she said, forcing firmness into her voice. ‘So, if you will allow me past, I need to go.’

For a moment Kazim’s gaze held hers, questioning and searching. Her stomach filled with small butterflies and she was compelled, as if under an ancient spell, to hold his gaze, to look into the inky depths.

If only she hadn’t tried so hard on her wedding night. She’d only done it because she didn’t want Kazim to think she was totally inexperienced.

Snap out of it, she reprimanded herself as she glimpsed once again the handsome prince she’d worshipped from afar for too many years. This is the man who rejected you, the man who ruined your whole life.

‘I will come with you.’ He pushed his body away from the door and unfolded his arms to stand looking down at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Not a real smile—it didn’t reach his eyes. It was the smile of a man in control. Complete control.

‘There’s no need.’ She grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, about to step into the corridor, when another dancer barged through the door from the club, the heavy beat of the music becoming louder again for a moment. The dancer rushed towards the dressing room, instantly stopping when she spotted Kazim.

‘I will escort you home,’ he whispered softly near Amber’s ear and then stepped close behind her like a territorial lion. She saw the shock on the other woman’s face—shock that quickly changed to a gushing smile when Kazim turned on his charm, directing his next words at the dancer. ‘We shall leave you in peace.’

Amber fumed inside. How dare he insinuate he was going home with her? They’d never leave her alone now. She could hear their questions already. Spurred on by anger, she marched the opposite way along the corridor, out through the back door of the club and into the narrow streets of Paris.

It was cool for summer and a keen wind rushed along the streets. She pulled her collar up and began the short walk to her flat, hoping with every step that Kazim wouldn’t follow. His footsteps behind her told her that hope was useless. She accepted the fact he’d found her and would now know where she lived, but she could not and would not go back to Barazbin. She was needed here.

‘My car is around the corner; there is no need to walk.’ He pulled her to a stop as his hand took hold of her arm, the contact sending a rush of heat through her.

‘So is my flat,’ she fired back at him, a sense of satisfaction settling over her as he glanced briefly up and down the street.

‘You live here, in this street?’ The streetlights cast a golden glow over his skin and his eyes seemed darker than she’d ever seen them. The disdain in his voice was so obvious she wanted to laugh at him, the irrational urge bubbling up like a fountain.

‘Is there something wrong with this street?’ She wished she was brave enough to ask him why he truly wanted her to return to Barazbin, but she wasn’t. It would mean hearing again his blatant dismissal of her as a woman.

‘The only thing wrong with this street is that it isn’t in Barazbin.’ His words shot at her so fast she almost unbalanced as she stepped back. His hand gripped tighter still onto her arm, drawing curious stares from a couple passing by.

‘You sent me away, Kazim.’ She pulled her arm free. ‘I assumed if I heard from you again it would be for a divorce.’

The sound of someone approaching made him turn and look, but when he returned his attention to her his face was full of fury. ‘We can’t talk here. We are drawing too much attention.’

‘There isn’t anything to talk about. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m needed here and, right now, I’m late so, if you’ll excuse me...’

Without waiting for his response, Amber walked away, her heels tapping out her frustration and echoing down the street. She glanced at her watch and her anxiety levels rose even further. She really was late and she’d promised her flatmate she’d be finishing early this evening.

She turned the corner and glanced back to find Kazim catching up with her. ‘Oh, no, please,’ she sighed out the words. A persistent desert prince was not something she wanted to deal with tonight, but she might as well get it over and done with. All she needed to do was convince him that a divorce was the best option—for both of them.

Amber pulled the key from her bag and stopped by the old wooden door, the green paint somewhat weathered. Next to her, Kazim swore—a growly sound of native words she hadn’t heard for a long time. It reminded her of her family and briefly she missed them, until she remembered how they’d treated her. How they’d turned their backs on her, sending her away to distant relations in England after Kazim had rejected her, insisting it was to avoid a scandal.

‘Couldn’t you find a better place to live than this?’ Abhorrence filled his voice and she turned to look up at him as he cursed again under his breath. ‘What did you do with all the money I gave you if you didn’t use it for a decent place to live?’

‘What I did with the money you used to pay me off, get me out of your life, is no concern of yours.’ She machine gunned the words at him, more angry than ever as the pain of his outright rejection of her as his wife surfaced. He’d ruined her life. In one night he’d made her nothing.

She wasn’t about to tell him she hadn’t received any money from him, or anything else for that matter. If he thought she’d wasted it, so much the better. It could only help her to prove how they needed to end the marriage. ‘It’s none of your business what I spend my money on.’

‘It was to support you, so that you could live in a manner befitting your position as Princess of Barazbin.’

She hurried into the hallway of the large Parisian town house, with its hints of a glorious past, and rushed up the stairs. As she reached her front door she turned to see him taking the stairs two at a time. ‘Since you seem intent on following me into my home, you’ll have to give me a minute. I need to check on Claude and pay the babysitter.’

‘Who is Claude?’ Cold fury sounded in his voice as he looked at her with hard eyes.

‘My flatmate’s son,’ she said as she put the key in the door. ‘Once I have done that I’ll give you a few minutes—before you go.’

* * *

Kazim’s mind raced. It was as if he’d stepped into an unreal world from the moment he’d entered that damn club. The anger he’d felt knowing his wife worked in such an establishment had made it almost impossible to go in. He’d stood on the threshold calming himself before he’d entered. His wife worked and lived in the most rundown area he’d ever seen in Europe.

Just as he had done outside the club, he stopped, desperately hanging onto his control, as Amber turned the key in the door and entered one of the smallest flats he’d ever seen. Did he want to go in? Did he want to bring this woman back into his life—a princess whose tiara was well and truly tarnished? A woman who seemed adept at keeping secrets from him?

She turned to him, holding one slender finger to her lips in a plea of silence, and something twisted deep inside him. What, he didn’t know, but it was almost primal and totally unexpected.

Despite everything that had happened, he wanted her as his wife and as a woman. She was his, and he was going to claim her back. Whatever the cost.

CHAPTER TWO

THE SMALL FLAT became invaded with the essence of Kazim, that raw power which had attracted Amber from the moment they’d met. His presence seeped into every corner and Amber shivered. The flat was too confined to contain him. He belonged to the desert with its vast wildness. Nothing or nobody would ever completely tame him. The realisation hurtled at her. They were worlds apart.

The babysitter, totally in awe of Kazim, hurriedly left and a heavy silence filled the air as he looked at Amber, his eyes sharp and soul-piercing. Amber had to face what was coming; it was the only way to be able to put the past behind her. If she didn’t, she’d never move on in life, never be able to find that elusive dream of happiness and love elsewhere.

‘Do your family know you are living like this?’ The door had barely clicked closed behind the babysitter before his words were out, sharp and insistent.

His anger seemed to make him grow taller, his shoulders broader, much more intimidating. An impatient sigh escaped him as his mouth set in a stern line and he folded his arms across his chest.

She would not let his regal show of power unnerve her, and met his gaze for a second or two. It felt like an eternity as his eyes bored into hers.

‘Quietly—Claude’s sleeping,’ Amber said softly in an attempt to defuse the increasing tension and walked into the kitchen, dropping her bag in the usual place. She turned and looked up into Kazim’s face, wild and thunderous as he stood in the doorway, realising she hadn’t acknowledged his question, let alone answered it.

‘I’m not asking about the child.’ His words came out in a gravelly attempt at a whisper, the heady scent of male wrapping itself around her.

‘Where I live has nothing to do with you, Kazim.’ She stood firm, refusing to be intimidated.

He took another step closer and she couldn’t help but move back against the kitchen cupboards, the small room totally dominated by him. He was too close and she couldn’t think straight, not when his intoxicating maleness invaded every pore in her body, making her want something she could never have. Something she should never have allowed herself to imagine.

‘Keep your voice down,’ she whispered harshly, hoping it would hide the colour creeping across her face. Would he guess her thoughts, know just how much he affected her?

‘How can you have turned your back so easily on your family? Your country?’ Anger sparked in Kazim’s eyes and she wanted to look away, but couldn’t. She had to be strong, had to face him head-on.

‘You dare to ask that when you sent me away just hours after we were married?’ Indignation rose up, fuelling her anger until it matched his. Had he any idea how humiliating it had been to go back to her parents because he didn’t want her?

She pushed aside those raw emotions, unable to deal with them right now. He’d dismissed her as a wife and as a woman and she should hate him for that. She did, but she couldn’t stem the sizzle of awareness that raced between them, stronger now than it had ever been.

‘But to live here, in a place like this, with a woman and her child? I’m assuming your friend is not married.’ The disgust on his face mirrored that which she’d seen on her wedding night as she’d tried to be anything but a naïve virgin.

‘You assume right,’ she said, glaring up at him.

Amber thought of little Claude, always with a sunny smile despite his continued health problems. He’d captured her heart from the moment she had first met him, much like Kazim had done, but she couldn’t allow her thoughts to wander there again. She had to stay completely focused on this moment and the brooding and overpowering presence of the man she’d married out of duty to her family.

She couldn’t drag her gaze away as Kazim looked at his watch, his jacket sleeve pulling up to reveal a tanned wrist, dusted with dark hair. Amber’s stomach fluttered and she practically had to force herself to think clearly. After all he’d done, all he’d said on their wedding day, she couldn’t believe he was still able to give her butterflies and make her head light.

She’d never wanted any man the way she wanted Kazim, and that had to change if she was going to be able to move on in life. But while Kazim still held her foolish heart she’d never be able to look at another man and feel this sizzle of hot desire.

‘Where does the child’s mother work? At this hour?’ He raised a brow at her and she wished he would step back, give her space to think, because having him so close was making that impossible right now. If she closed her eyes for just a moment, she was sure his musky aftershave alone would transport her back to the desert. A place she’d turned her back on for good.

‘At the club.’ Amber knew it was nearly time for Annie to come home and part of her wanted that to happen right now, but another, more rebellious, side wanted to keep that moment at bay for as long as possible. But if Annie did come home, at least then she could go somewhere else to talk with this man, somewhere bigger, a place that didn’t heighten his power and command so dramatically.

‘She is a stripper?’ His accent deepened and the hard angles of his face furrowed into a scowl as once more he jumped to conclusions.

‘They are dancers, Kazim; they dance, they don’t strip.’ She flew instantly to Annie’s defence, using the exact same words her manager had used as he’d tried to lure her to dance, insisting her pay would increase substantially.

‘So your little stunt on our wedding night was a dance?’ His voice had deepened and turned husky, making her stomach flutter uncontrollably as he reminded her once again of that night. He stepped closer, invading her mind, her body and her soul.

She looked up at him and saw that the black depths of his eyes had changed, swirling with something new, something undefinable. She was mesmerised, unable to think at all, stunned into silence.

‘Do you remember?’ he asked, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it as he lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. She became swallowed up by the fire she now saw there. ‘You danced then.’

This couldn’t be happening. She didn’t want it to happen; she couldn’t let it happen. What she needed was to be free of him and letting him touch her, letting him look into her eyes with such potent need, eroded every last bit of determination she had.

‘I did not dance or strip,’ she flung at him, infuriated by the way her body reacted to his touch. But at the same time she didn’t want him to stop. Attack, she decided, was the best form of defence. ‘I was doing what I thought was right, what I thought a man of your reputation would want.’

‘A man of my reputation?’ He said the words slowly and suspiciously, as if he couldn’t believe she was using such a thing against him.

‘I was sure an innocent woman was not what you were used to.’ She looked right into the depths of his eyes, boldly challenging him to deny what she said. ‘I was certain you wouldn’t have wanted me—a virgin bride—and I was right.’

She saw his face harden, saw his jaw clench. She was right—he hadn’t wanted her, an innocent bride, but neither had he wanted her when she’d hidden behind her attempt at seduction.

‘Or is it that I just didn’t fit into your world?’ She threw the question at him. ‘Is it because I have English blood in my veins?’

His silence spoke volumes, but she ploughed on, trying to ignore the intensity in his eyes.

‘My mother may be English but she has adopted the ways of the desert to the extent that she wanted our marriage as much as our fathers did.’

* * *

Kazim looked into Amber’s beautiful face, imagining how her soft skin would feel on his fingertips, and wondered how she could think that, let alone say it. For the entire duration of his wedding day he’d been consumed by need for his young bride; her innocence had been so beguiling. It was as if she’d cast a spell on him, but a spell he had no intention of slipping under. He didn’t dare.

He’d fought her magic so well that, by the time they were alone, he was once more the totally in control desert prince who took only what he needed. It wasn’t until she’d dropped her act of purity, throwing herself at him, flaunting her body so brazenly that he knew he couldn’t live a lie, and that the rumours of her time in boarding school must have been true.

What if he was like his father? Anger had surfaced, threatening to break out like a captured wild animal. Alarm bells had gone off. She’d already roused his passion with her dance and it had mixed potently with anger at her deception.

The marriage had been a mistake—one he was certain his father was well aware of and had forced him into, testing his loyalty to family and country. All he’d been able to think of was that he didn’t want to be responsible for breaking such spirit. He didn’t want to replicate what he’d witnessed as a young boy.

In a desperate attempt to make Amber see reason, Kazim’s words had been harsher than he’d intended. He had used her alluring dance and attempts to seduce him as an excuse. To make her believe that he was sending her back to her family because she wasn’t the meek and biddable bride he’d thought she had been.

Amber hadn’t shown any shock as he’d told her their duty was done, that she must return to her homeland. In fact she hadn’t shown any emotion at all, had shut him out. Had she been relieved she didn’t have to stay in Barazbin?