Sarah Morgan

In The Sheikh's Marriage Bed


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on the outside maybe, but not on the inside.

      ‘Your brother has committed a crime which is punishable by imprisonment here in Kazban.’ His tone was harsh and he stopped pacing and took a step towards her. ‘If he truly believed that by sending you in his place he could evade our justice system, then he made a serious error of judgment. I shall keep you here until he comes in person to face the charges against him.’

      ‘C-crime?’ Slim fingers pushed her blonde hair out of her startled eyes. ‘The value of investments has fallen for everyone. That’s just a risk you take, surely. It certainly isn’t a crime.’

      Zak watched her in incredulous disbelief, appalled by the fact that she was still pretending to know nothing about the fact that her brother had embezzled the money. How long could she keep that up? he wondered cynically. Peter Kingston had lost every last penny. He’d mortgaged the family home and was virtually bankrupt. How long could his sister continue to pursue the defence that the loss was attributable to the vagaries of the markets?

      ‘My brother will pay you what he owes you,’ she said firmly, her chin lifting as she looked at him. ‘You can’t keep me here.’

      Her chest rose and fell as she breathed and a man less experienced with women than Zak might have missed the sudden parting of her soft lips or the press of her hardened nipples against the thin fabric of her dress as she stared at him in terrified fascination.

      But with the razor-sharp intuition that had guaranteed him staggering success in both the boardroom and the bedroom, Zak didn’t miss a single signal and he gave a grim smile of masculine satisfaction.

      Having failed to secure her release, she was already thinking about being in his bed—

      His eyes dropped to her mouth and sexual awareness throbbed between them. She might be corrupt but she was astonishingly beautiful. Zak gritted his teeth, battling against the powerful reaction of his body. Suddenly the bed option held considerable appeal.

      ‘I will keep you as long as you are of use to me,’ he returned smoothly, watching as her lovely face drained of colour.

      ‘No! That wasn’t what Peter intended.’ Her tone was frantic. ‘He’ll be expecting me home—’

      ‘And when you don’t arrive, then presumably he’ll follow you here.’ Zak surveyed her through lowered lids, finding her passionate defence of her brother entirely distasteful. Clearly she supported her brother’s dishonest dealings and was determined to pretend that nothing was wrong. ‘Unless he is too much of a coward to face me in person.’

      ‘My brother is not a coward.’ Her blue eyes sparked with anger and spots of colour appeared on her pale cheeks.

      Zak watched with interest, intrigued by the change in her and wrestling with a basic desire to increase the colour in her cheeks still further with physical activity. ‘Tell me, Miss Kingston…’ he kept his tone conversational ‘…why did you agree to come here?’

      ‘Because Peter was too busy to come himself,’ she said immediately and then blushed slightly. ‘And because I thought it might be an adventure. But it didn’t occur to either of us that you’d make me stay instead,’ she said stiffly. ‘After all, I’m no use to you whatsoever.’

      Her pretence at indifference was laughable.

      Zak gritted his teeth, irritated that he could still want her even knowing what she was. ‘Prepare yourself for adventure, Miss Kingston,’ he advised softly. ‘Your brother has committed a crime and unless he arrives in person to stand trial, then you will face that trial in his place.’

      ‘Trial?’ Her face blanched. ‘But I haven’t done anything.’

      ‘You have come as your brother’s representative,’ Zak pointed out smoothly, ‘which makes you liable for his crimes. That is justice.’

      ‘Justice?’ She shook her head and then brushed aside the blonde hair that wafted over her face. ‘It doesn’t sound like justice to me! You keep calling it a crime but none of this is his fault. And you can’t make me face trial. You—’

      ‘I can do anything I please,’ Zak interrupted her, suddenly fighting an impulse to power her back against his desk and seek immediate payment in kind. Irritated by the extraordinarily powerful attraction that he suddenly felt, he hardened his tone. ‘This is Kazban, not England, and our laws are somewhat stricter than yours when it comes to theft.’

      She lifted a hand to her throat as if she was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. My brother hasn’t stolen anything. Investments are always a risk. They can go down as well as up.’

      Zak blinked, unaccustomed to being lectured by anyone on the subject of finance. He had a degree in economics and an MBA from a top American university, and since he’d been forced to take over responsibility for running the country as a result of his father’s ill health the economy of Kazban had gone from strength to strength. There was very little anyone could teach him about investments. And very little anyone could teach him about risk.

      He thrived on risk.

      Did the Kingstons really expect him to believe that the loss was a result of changes in the stock market when he knew full well that the money had never been invested?

      Deciding to play her game for a little longer, he kept his features impassive. ‘Then you’d better pray they go up, Miss Kingston.’ He surveyed her thoughtfully, wondering for how long she could maintain this pretence. ‘And you’d better pray that your brother arrives here soon. Otherwise I advise you to prepare yourself for an extended stay.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘This audience is now at an end,’ he said coldly. ‘There are others waiting to see me. You will stay at the palace until your brother arrives. That is my decision.’

      She had to get away.

      She’d come here to help Peter, but her presence had made things worse.

      The prince obviously intended to use her as leverage against her brother.

      ‘You’ll find my bed much more hospitable than any tower—’

      Suddenly finding it hard to breathe, Emily grabbed her few possessions and stuffed them frantically into the one, small overnight bag that she’d brought with her. It was perfectly obvious that Crown Prince Zak al-Farisi wasn’t going to listen to reason and release her, which meant that she needed to take matters into her own hands.

      The man might look gorgeous, but he was ruthless and cold and not at all a nice person.

      Why was he pressing her brother for the money when he was obviously rolling in it?

      Just how much money did one man need?

      Never having been in the slightest bit interested in material possessions, Emily struggled to understand why someone would strive for unlimited wealth.

      Having lost both her parents when she was twelve, her own idea of riches was to have her own family. A man who loved her. Children.

      She swallowed hard as she stuffed the rest of her clothes into the bag.

      One day she would have that, she told herself firmly.

      And it would be with a man who was kind and loving and—and safe.

      Not a man like Zakour al-Farisi who was hard and unforgiving and obviously only thought about money.

      Her hands stilled and suddenly her breathing quickened as she remembered the betraying throb of her body and the heat that she’d felt when he’d stood close to her. No one had ever made her feel like that before. In fact before today she hadn’t known that such powerful emotions existed except in books.

      The blatantly sexual intent in his cold, hard gaze had made her shivery and dizzy and—and—shocked.

      No man had ever looked at her the way he did.

      No