Читать книгу The Desert King's Captive Bride - Annie West - Страница 11
ОглавлениеGHIZLAN WHIPPED HER head to one side but only succeeded in baring her cheek to this...this...bandit.
Whiskers brushed her in a totally unfamiliar caress, sending little shivers dancing across her skin. Warm lips, far softer than she’d imagined, nuzzled her cheek, stealing her breath.
She wouldn’t scream. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of revealing fear. Instead she stood ramrod straight. Frozen.
Yet it wasn’t fear she experienced as his lips moved in a tantalisingly slow trail up to her ear. Ghizlan blinked, surprised at the odd sensation of warmth curling in on itself deep in her belly.
This had gone on long enough.
She yanked her arms back, trying to break his hold, but it was like wrestling a boulder. A huge, warm boulder scented not just with the stables but with an enticing, unfamiliar tang that she suspected was essence of Huseyn al Rasheed.
Teeth nipped her earlobe and she jumped, horrified at the fiery trail zapping from the spot straight to her womb, as if he’d jerked a string and she, like a puppet, responded. Her nipples budded hard and achy against her bra. Did he feel that as his big body pressed against her?
‘Stop it, you lout!’
Hands braced on his chest, she leaned back, trying to escape, but he was taller and stronger. In one swift movement he clamped both her hands against that brawny, powerful chest. His other hand grabbed the back of her head, inexorably turning her face towards him.
Ghizlan saw a flash of smoky blue beneath straight dark brows, then his mouth was on hers.
Heat, power, the rich, zesty scent of male skin. The soft prickle of his whiskers against her flesh contrasted with the sheer force of his mouth grinding down on hers. It was a predictably ruthless assault on her senses by a man determined to dominate.
Fear filtered into her stunned brain. Until she realised, astonished, that despite the power in that massive, muscled body, he’d pulled back a fraction. Even as the thought formed, the pressure on her lips eased and his hand in her hair gentled, cradling and massaging.
Ghizlan stared, trying to focus on the blue of his eyes, but he was too close. He shifted his stance, drawing her lower body in against him until there was no mistaking the monumental evidence of his arousal.
She gasped, stunned, and too late realised her mistake. For Huseyn al Rasheed took the opportunity to invade her mouth.
Not to ravage this time but to seduce. His movements were sure but gentle as his tongue swiped hers, learning the feel and taste of her, just as she discovered he tasted like almonds and something else impossibly, horrifyingly delicious.
Her chest cramped as she realised she enjoyed the sensation of his tongue tangling with hers.
Foggily she fought the drugging pleasure of those slow, sure, sensual movements of lips and tongue, no longer forcing but inviting.
A shiver passed from the back of her skull where his fingers caressed her, down to her curling toes.
She’d been kissed before. Perfectly pleasant kisses from perfectly nice men. Sweet kisses, even eager kisses. But none like this. None that demanded so imperiously then gentled to seduce her into feelings that surely were more dangerous than anything else he could unleash on her.
His kiss invited her to relax and follow the unfamiliar lure of pleasure. To be selfish, just once. His hand cupping her head supported but also caressed, sending whorls of languid delight through her.
And his hard body against hers—that was a totally new, electrifying experience. Ghizlan had kissed, and dated while a student, but, ever conscious of the high expectations placed on her, and the possibility for scandal if caught out publicly in a love affair, she’d never progressed beyond that.
No man had ever made her feel this potent longing for more.
Ghizlan tried to be strong, tried not to respond. Until she heard, and tasted, Huseyn’s low humming growl of satisfaction. It was a sensual assault, as real as his hand in her hair or his tongue stroking hers. The way it vibrated through her, sparking an answering excitement, was unlike anything she’d known.
His kiss slowed, deepened, became positively languorous, and Ghizlan’s bones began to soften. Her hands twitched against that powerful chest and before she knew it they’d slid up, over hard shoulders to tangle in tousled locks, tunnelling and tugging then clamping tight on his skull.
She shifted, angling her mouth to kiss him back and losing her breath as his erection aligned provocatively against her.
Another growl from the back of his throat and he roped one muscled arm around her, lifting her against him so the contact became even more blatantly sexual.
And devastatingly delicious.
Ghizlan gasped, her mind, like her body, running on overdrive. One part of her was aware of curving in, inviting more of that heavy, outrageously improper contact. Another revelled in the strength of a man who could lift her with one arm as if she were made of gossamer. But mainly she was focused on the provocative, delicious kiss she didn’t want to end.
Except this was wrong. On so many levels she couldn’t begin to count them.
The part of her consciousness that had been trained from birth to focus on duty, to be a good example, to do the right thing always, suddenly burst awake and screamed in horror.
Ghizlan dropped her hands to his shoulders and shoved with all her might. She tried to tear her mouth away and only succeeded in inviting him to nuzzle her neck.
Her body trembled and flushed with delight at the sensations bombarding her from his mouth and his hands and that huge body moving deliberately against her pelvis.
‘I don’t want this. Do you hear me? I don’t want it!’ Her voice was a raw whiplash, ragged and desperate. ‘Let me go.’ She gave up pushing and thumped her fists on his shoulders.
Finally, slowly, his head lifted. His eyes pinioned her as effectively as that heavy arm lashing her to him. His gaze was the colour of the sky after sunset, that fleeting blue when the first stars appeared before the sky turned indigo.
He blinked. Once. Twice. His gaze dropped to her lips, throbbing and heavy from that devastating kiss. To Ghizlan’s horror she felt that stare like a stroking caress.
‘Let me go.’ This time her voice was subdued. How she managed to look him in the eye, Ghizlan couldn’t fathom. They both knew that despite her anger she’d responded, lost to everything but the magic of his kiss.
Heat roared in her veins. Shame filled her that she should surrender so easily to such a man!
She told herself she’d responded because of her inexperience. If she’d known what to expect she could have prepared herself. She’d known he fancied himself as a lover—that smugness had been unmistakable. Clearly he’d played his greater expertise to advantage.
‘Well, that was interesting.’ His voice held a husky note that drove a shaft of heat right to her belly.
‘You can let me go now.’
His lips curved slowly into a smile Ghizlan wanted to hate because it was prompted by masculine pride. He was pleased with himself because she hadn’t been able to resist him. But strangely his smile made her heart thud faster.
‘Are you sure you can stand?’
Of all the complacent, self-satisfied...
Ghizlan’s knee-jerk reaction, straight for the soft spot where that monumental male ego was centred, should have crippled him. But his reactions were faster than hers. Her knee grazed his cotton trousers but he’d already whipped back out of reach with the lightning reflexes of a man used to fighting. And fighting dirty.
His hands dropped, leaving her free, panting for breath and propped against the desk.
At least that wiped the grin off his insufferable face.
Ghizlan summoned her strength, standing tall, her hands going automatically to her hair and swiftly pinning what he’d turned into a mare’s nest. Fortunately she could tidy her hair without thinking about it, like she could descend a grand staircase in a full-length dress without looking down or tripping. Or converse with ambassadors in several languages at the same time. Years of practice made some things easy.
What she found difficult was the realisation her own body had betrayed her.
‘You’ve had your fun at my expense.’ She kept her voice even, only because letting him glimpse the depth of her despair at her weakness was untenable. ‘Now, I’d like the see the Captain of the Guard, and my bodyguards and then my sister.’
‘After we’ve concluded our business.’
Ghizlan shook her head. ‘That can wait.’ She hefted a breath, waiting for some tiny sign he relented but none came. He remained immovable, implacable.
She sighed and fought the desire to rub her aching head. ‘Surely you understand I must see them. They’re my responsibility. With my father...gone, it’s my duty to see to their welfare.’ She swallowed, hating the salty tangle of tiredness and emotion blocking her throat. She couldn’t afford to be weak now. ‘You’d feel the same way about the soldiers you command.’
* * *
He’d give her points for perceptiveness. Ghizlan understood him better than he’d expected. Appealing to his sense of duty to his men was the approach he’d expect of an honourable adversary, a general he could respect, even if they were on opposite sides.
He hadn’t thought a pretty princess, spoiled from birth and raised in luxury, would understand that overriding sense of responsibility. Much less share it!
His gaze raked her. This time he tried to take in more than the mutinous, deliciously kiss-swollen mouth, the delectable figure, flawless skin and glossy ebony hair that had run like silk in his hands.
Huseyn discovered an unwavering dark gaze, shoulders as straight as any guard on patrol, and an expression as cool as the snow on the topmost peaks of Jeirut’s highest mountain range. Only the throbbing pulse hammering at her throat belied her calm façade. It ignited a flare of satisfaction that he’d got to her as she had him.
Admiration vied with impatience and lust. He wanted her mouth beneath his, eager and generous, that bountiful body crushed against his still painfully hard arousal.
He shook his head, appalled. This was no time to indulge himself. The future of his province and his country hung in the balance.
‘What do you want? For me to beg? Is that what it will take to satisfy you?’
‘You’d do that?’ Huseyn imagined her on her knees before him, head bent. But the vision swimming before his eyes didn’t involve her begging. With a roaring rush of arousal he realised it was something more satisfying, more earthy, that he desired from this proud princess.
She opened those reddened lips, now devoid of lipstick, and abruptly Huseyn had had enough. He’d have her in his bed soon enough, as his wife. Because he must and because he’d do what was necessary to make that happen. In the meantime he refused to toy with her. Her instincts were honourable and he respected that.
‘No.’ His voice was harsh. ‘No, I don’t expect you to beg.’ He sucked air into constricted lungs and watched as her attention dropped to the rise of his chest, her eyes rounding infinitesimally. As if she liked what she saw.
She’d certainly enjoyed that kiss. She’d been so enthusiastic he’d actually begun to forget why he’d kissed her. To show who had the upper hand, and more, to puncture that haughty air of hers.
Realisation slammed into Huseyn and with it distaste. He’d let her distract him from his purpose. From the vital work that needed to be done.
‘Wait here. I’ll have them each brought to you so you can satisfy yourself that they’re unharmed.’
‘It would be easier if I went—’
‘No.’ A slashing gesture stopped her mid-sentence. There was no way he’d allow her to wander the palace. Not till everything was settled. ‘Give me your phone and I’ll arrange for them to see you here.’
‘My phone?’ She looked puzzled.
Huseyn folded his arms over his chest. ‘I don’t want you contacting people outside the palace till we’ve concluded our business.’ Her gaze sliced to the phone on the desk.
He shook his head. ‘The landlines have been temporarily disconnected. All electronic devices have been confiscated.’
‘While you stage your coup.’
For a minute, caught up in appreciation of her bravery, he’d almost forgotten his dislike of the pampered elite who sucked the country dry with their demands.
‘While I save the nation.’
Her snort of derision was anything but regal and Huseyn found himself suppressing a smile. Despite everything, he warmed to this blue-blooded daughter of privilege.
She swung round, treating Huseyn to a view of her peach-perfect bottom as she leaned over to grab her purse.
‘Here.’ She extended her phone. ‘But I expect it back intact. I’m in the middle of important negotiations and I want my contacts and messages untouched.’
Negotiations? With her hairstylist? Boyfriends? Huseyn didn’t care. She’d be incommunicado till he said so.
His fingers closed around the phone, his big hand scraping her smaller one, and heat shot up his arm. He frowned, lips flattening at that unwanted response.
She pulled her hand back, her face smoothing into the mask of calm he’d learned she wore when something disturbed her. Good. He liked the idea that he disturbed her. For she sure as hell disturbed him!
‘The phone will be returned undamaged.’ He paused. ‘As long as you obey orders.’
Ebony eyebrows arched but she said nothing. She was learning.
‘After you’ve assured yourself no one has been harmed, we’ll talk.’ With that he turned and left. He had business to attend to. He’d deal with his recalcitrant bride later.
* * *
‘Truly, I’m fine.’ Mina squeezed Ghizlan’s hand. ‘But I’m glad you’re here. It’s been pretty grim.’
Ghizlan nodded, the banked embers of fury glowing brighter. Mina was just seventeen. Losing her father was bad enough without being held prisoner in her own home.
‘You’re sure they didn’t hurt you? You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?’
‘Of course. But they didn’t hurt me. Just took my phone and laptop and told me I couldn’t leave the palace.’ Her mouth set in a distressed line. ‘But I need to access the net, Ghizlan. It’s vital.’
‘Vital?’ It was such a relief seeing her sister okay. First the Captain of the Palace Guard then her own protection staff. Now Mina. It seemed Huseyn al Rasheed was as good as his word. No one had been harmed. The takeover had been accomplished with the ease and precision of a consummate professional.
A professional coup leader, she reminded herself. And a thug. Look at the way he’d groped her.
‘Are you listening, Ghizlan?’
‘Of course.’ She smiled. ‘But I’m still getting used to your new look.’
Mina stroked the dark hair feathering her bare neck. ‘When Father died I realised that at last I could do what I wanted. Not pretend to be someone I’m not.’ Her expression grew earnest. ‘I’m not like you, Ghizlan. I can’t be the consummate diplomat, following duty and public expectation. I tried to please Father but never succeeded. As for studying economics...’ She shuddered.
Ghizlan covered Mina’s hand with hers, emotion welling. ‘You’re fine as you are, Mina. You’re bright and enthusiastic and talented.’ It seemed like betrayal to think it but with their father’s death Mina was free to follow her inclinations and build the life she wanted. Their father couldn’t straitjacket her into a life designed to fulfil some political objective as he had Ghizlan.
‘Actually, I rebelled a while ago. Before Father died, though he didn’t know.’ Mina’s eyes glowed. ‘You know I don’t want to go to that stuffy school to study economics.’
‘I know.’ It had been part of their father’s plan to show Jeiruti women could achieve in nontraditional fields. Which was why Ghizlan had a degree in chemical engineering, though at least she’d been interested in science in the first place. ‘So what have you done?’
‘I applied to art school. A fabulous art school in France. You know that’s always been my dream. I secretly sent off an application and offers should be out now but I can’t check my email.’ Her voice rose in distress. ‘If they make an offer and I don’t reply, they won’t wait. They’ll—’
‘Calm down, Mina. They’ll give you time to respond.’
‘Not if we’re in lockdown for weeks. What if Huseyn doesn’t release us for months? What if—?’
‘Don’t fret. He can’t hold us indefinitely. His plan is to get himself declared Sheikh as soon as possible.’
With her as a vital part of his plan. But he’d soon discover she was no gullible pawn. She’d never marry him.
‘You really think so? I’d shrivel up and die if I had to do the course Father picked.’
‘No one’s going to force you to do anything, Mina. Just relax.’
The thought struck Ghizlan with the force of a lightning bolt. It was true. Once a new sheikh was proclaimed they would leave the palace. Huseyn couldn’t force her to marry him. All she had to do was remain steadfast. When he’d given up they could do what they wanted with their lives. Mina could go to art school and she could... Her brow puckered. It had been so long since she’d thought about what she wanted, rather than what was expected, she didn’t immediately know how she wanted to spend her future.
Now freedom beckoned. A whole world of opportunity.
‘Ghizlan? You have the strangest look on your face.’
Ghizlan smiled. Not the polite smile she used for official occasions, but a beam of excitement. ‘That’s because I’ve realised once Huseyn al Rasheed gets what he wants we’ll be free to do what we want. No one can stop us.’
* * *
‘You demanded my presence?’ Ghizlan lifted her chin to meet those misty blue eyes. The sheer size of the man would daunt her if she let it. She focused on that rather than the peculiar flutter of her pulse when his gaze met hers.
Antagonism. Distrust. That’s what she felt.
The strange excitement she experienced when he turned from her father’s desk to face her was due to the realisation she and Mina would soon be free in a way they’d never dreamed possible. It had nothing to do with the memory of Huseyn’s lips on hers or that hollow ache in her middle when he’d crushed her to him. Or that, minus the long cloak, his pale trousers and shirt emphasised the breathtaking strength in that beautifully proportioned body.
Ghizlan preferred character to brawn.
‘Gracious as ever, I see.’ That deep voice was soft, like plush velvet across her skin. He didn’t look annoyed either, merely watchful as she closed the study door and approached the desk.
That all-encompassing survey was incredibly disquieting. Ghizlan fought to repress a shiver.
‘You expect me to pretend you and your thugs haven’t invaded the capital or taken me and my sister hostage?’ Ghizlan took a sustaining breath and was momentarily discomfited when his gaze flicked down as if taking stock of her body.
Rubbish. He wasn’t interested in her. That scene he’d played out here a couple of hours earlier had been about power, not attraction. Some men got off on that. Men like Huseyn al Rasheed.
‘You don’t give up, do you?’ He leaned back against her father’s desk as if he owned it. The raw, jagged scratch he’d made in it was half hidden by papers. Ghizlan was incensed at how he’d made himself at home.
‘You expect me to treat you like a welcome guest?’
‘Frankly, my manners are the least of your worries, my lady. You should be more concerned about the threat to Jeirut from Halarq.’
‘Ah, but according to you, I’m merely a waste of space.’ She tilted her head as if thinking. As if she didn’t recall precisely what he’d called her. ‘A pampered princess, wasn’t it? It’s obvious that as far as you’re concerned such weighty issues can only be dealt with by armed men. The sort of men who flout the law and imprison law-abiding citizens.’
Silver flashed in those deep-set eyes and he muttered something under his breath.
She locked her hands together behind her, forcing her shoulders back and her chin up. This was pointless. Much as she enjoyed baiting him, there was nothing to be gained from it except personal satisfaction. She had others in her care to worry about. She couldn’t afford to endanger them.
‘Might I suggest that, while the citadel is under armed guard, you release most of your hostages? I’ll stay, of course, but my sister is just a teenager and the staff could leave while this is sorted out.’
Ghizlan tried and failed to repress the pounding thud of her heart at the thought of Mina at this man’s mercy any longer. Mina was young and impulsive, and Huseyn al Rasheed didn’t look like he had an understanding bone in his body.
‘Sorted out? You speak as if I’m here temporarily. I assure you, my lady, that isn’t the case. This is now my home.’ His wide gesture encompassed not just the room, but the whole palace.
‘Once the Council declares you Sheikh.’
‘I expect that within a couple of days. I’ve already informed them of our impending marriage.’
Ghizlan’s eyes popped. ‘You had no right.’
‘I had every right. I’m trying to save our country. Can’t you see that?’
‘What I see is a man so wrapped up in his bid for personal power he’ll do anything to succeed.’ It was a miracle she kept her voice even. Behind her back her knotted hands shook with the force of her outrage. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised to learn you had an army surrounding the city, ready to start a civil war.’
He stopped lounging against the desk. In the blink of an eye he was standing tall, looming over her, his expression one of hauteur and repressed anger. ‘I’ll forgive that. This time. When you know me better you won’t jump to such insulting assumptions.’
‘I have no intention of knowing you better. You can’t make me marry you.’
He didn’t move, didn’t lift a finger, but that smoky blue gaze grazed her face as surely as if he’d stroked rough fingers across her flesh. Beneath the whiskers his mouth curved in a slow smile that sent quivers of foreboding through her.
‘If you’re so set against it, my lady, so be it.’ He paused. ‘I’ll simply marry your sister instead. Her royal blood is as good as yours. She’s seventeen, is that right?’ He paused, his smile widening. ‘No doubt I’ll find her much more amenable to my needs.’
For a second, then another and another, Ghizlan’s heart stalled. Her stomach dropped sickeningly. She looked at the implacable man before her, read the determination in the set of his shoulders and the proud tilt of his head. The certainty in that complacent smile. And felt the world tremble on its foundations.
It was one thing for their father to try bartering Ghizlan into an arranged marriage to Sheikh Idris of Zahrat. At least Idris was a civilised, cultured, caring man. But to expect Mina, her innocent little sister, to marry this brute...
Ghizlan’s arm swung up and she punched Huseyn al Rasheed full in the face.
