The Sheikh's Last Mistress. Rachael Thomas

place.

      ‘I had anticipated that you would say that. Tomorrow morning we will ride out. I will take you to where Tabinah was found and endeavour to impart as much of the events as possible.’ His tone was courteous, his words firm and distinct and she wondered if she’d just imagined the last few moments when something like attraction had sparked between them.

      ‘That will be good. I understand it must be painful for you, but it is something...’

      ‘Painful?’ He cut her words off before she could finish the remainder of the sentence. ‘Why would it be painful?’

      ‘It must be hard after losing your sister because of the need to follow tradition.’

      He stood up abruptly, his eyes eagle-sharp, almost pinning her to the spot. ‘I had thought because of the way you have been dressing that you were acquainted with my culture.’

      Destiny frowned, unsure what she’d said to have changed things so drastically, but she wouldn’t allow him to intimidate her. She was here of her own free will and would leave if necessary. She stood up as quickly as he had, her chin defiantly lifted even though inside she was trembling. ‘I’m sorry if my sympathy offends.’

      ‘It does not offend. It is misplaced.’ He tempered his tone and walked around the desk towards her slowly as if he feared she might bolt through the archway at any moment and into the gardens.

      ‘Misplaced?’ The question came out as a cracked whisper and she could hardly stand, her limbs were so weak. Still he moved towards her, coming so close she could smell the desert on him and the heady, raw masculine scent of power.

      ‘It was to have been a marriage of convenience. Love was not involved. Just as it will not be when I take a wife.’ He looked down at her and she refused to break eye contact, watching him even though just being this close weakened her knees and made her pulse leap wildly. ‘Marriage is a contract, nothing more.’

      ‘But what about love?’ She couldn’t help the question slipping from her lips and as she spoke his gaze flicked lower, as if watching her lips move, and she had to fight hard against the urge to bite down on her bottom lip. What was this man doing to her?

      ‘Love is a concept I have not allowed in my life. Desire, however, is.’ She could see it in his eyes, feel it with every pore of her skin. At that moment he desired her. Light-headed and shocked, she backed away from him, bumping into the chair she’d just leapt from.

      ‘That is not something I know.’ Why did her voice sound so husky?

      ‘You have not desired something?’ He was playing with her; she was sure of that. Was it punishment for speaking out of turn?

      ‘Yes, of course I’ve desired things.’ She let out a long breath. For a moment she’d thought he meant a man.

      ‘Someone?’

      She looked at him, knowing that right now she desired him. What had he done to her? He was a powerful Sheikh, a man used to getting what he wanted and probably had a harem of women tucked away in his palace somewhere. She had to stop this. She was getting in way too deep. If she wasn’t careful, she would go down the same sorry road as her mother, falling for a man who could never love her.

      ‘No. I have never desired anyone and neither do I intend to.’

      ‘So if I touched your face with my fingertips you wouldn’t tremble with desire and need for me.’

      He reached out his hand and before he could touch her she knocked his arm away, glaring angrily at him. ‘I am not here to become one of your harem. I am here to work with your stallion. Nothing more.’

      He narrowed his eyes and she knew she’d insulted him. Was it because she’d touched him or because she hadn’t fallen into a heap at his feet, begging him to make love to her?

      ‘I do not have a harem of any size and I will be faithful to my wife from the day we are married. No woman has come close to threatening that ideal before today.’ He turned on his heel, his robes flowing out wildly, and went to stand by the archway, the sunlight of the afternoon framing him.

      He looked vulnerable and she swallowed down hard, finally able to breathe properly now that he’d stepped away. Last night she’d believed she’d been mistaken when she’d thought he’d been about to kiss her; now she wasn’t sure. Was she doing something wrong? Giving him the wrong message? She was a naive virgin who’d barely shared a kiss with a man and this particular man was so overwhelmingly powerful she couldn’t understand, let alone control, the way he made her feel.

      ‘You should leave.’ He didn’t look at her and the rigid set of his back made his disapproval all too evident but she wasn’t about to argue with him again.

      She needed to get away, to calm herself and work out what was going on between them. Every time they met it became more intense, harder to ignore. Whatever it was.

      She turned and walked to the door, about to reach for the large gold handle when she heard his voice again. Deep and soft.

      ‘Destiny.’

      She turned to him, not liking the way her heart lurched at the sight of him. Even across the vastness of his cool marbled office, she could feel his vulnerability, as if every barrier he’d ever used as a weapon was briefly down, exposing the real man.

      ‘Yes?’ she said stiffly, not willing to be fooled by his soft tone.

      He frowned and regarded her suspiciously. ‘Be ready by dawn.’

      ‘Ready?’ Her heart went into freefall. Ready for what?

      ‘To ride out. We leave before the sun rises too high.’

      His eyes locked with hers across the room and she couldn’t break the contact, couldn’t look away. Instead she nodded, her breath coming hard and fast. Finally she dropped her gaze and turned to pull open the door quickly, her haste to escape whatever spell he was casting on her making her clumsy.