Читать книгу The Royal House Of Karedes Collection Books 1-12 - Кейт Хьюит, Шантель Шоу - Страница 35

‘COFFEE, Eleni?’

Eleni sat down at the breakfast table as Zahra held up a heavy silver pot, wondering if her face or her demeanour gave the sheikh’s assistant any hint of what had happened last night.

Or was this a house with no secrets—the interconnecting door of her bedroom giving the game away to all? Did the servants realise that, under cover of darkness, Prince Kaliq had crept into the bed of his stable girl and taken her virginity in the most heartbreakingly beautiful way possible? Why, maybe Zahra herself had gone through a similar initiation ceremony.

Eleni’s cheeks flamed and she felt her heart give a painful lurch. Please let that not be the case, she prayed silently. ‘I’d love some coffee,’ she said quietly.

Zahra upended some inky brew into a tiny golden coffee cup and pushed it across the table. ‘The sheikh has asked me to tell you that someone will be over after breakfast. You can be measured up and a selection of outfits sent over within the hour. Something for you to wear to the polo match.’ Zahra smiled. ‘It’ll be fun—believe me.’

But Eleni was still smarting from Kaliq’s command that she never call him by his given name in public. And while she knew that his words made sense, it didn’t stop them hurting—but at least it helped her come to a decision. He had set out his rules very firmly—so why should she not have rules of her own? Why should she dress up to be something she wasn’t? Masquerading as a cute western mannequin until Kaliq tired of her and it was time to put her back into the cupboard?

And besides—she already felt displaced enough in this English home of the sheikh’s. Surely if she started dressing like a westerner then she would end up feeling completely alienated?

‘Please thank the sheikh for his generous offer,’ she said stiffly. ‘But also tell him that I cannot accept it. There is no reason why I should not go to the polo match dressed in traditional gown. I am there to assess a horse and not to impress others.’

Zahra gave her an uneasy smile as she offered a basket of warm bread. ‘I’ll tell him,’ she said. ‘But I can tell you now, Eleni—he won’t like it.’

Eleni shrugged. No, she could imagine that Kaliq was a man who never liked being disobeyed in anything. ‘Where is the sheikh this morning?’ asked Eleni, telling herself that Zahra’s slightly ominous words were not going to frighten her.

‘He’s in his office.’ Zahra hesitated for a moment. ‘Do you need to speak to him?’

Too quickly, Eleni shook her head. ‘No. I have no wish to disturb him.’

She needed to get out into the fresh air. To cool down her overheated body and blow her disquiet away, and after coffee she went out to explore the grounds—discovering a small wood carpeted with blue flowers shaped like bells.

Her mood kept veering wildly between dreamy recollections of what had happened to her last night. Of her first initiation into the act of love with a man who could not have been a more perfect lover. Except that there was no love involved, she reminded herself bitterly. No feeling at all, it seemed. The sheikh had made that very clear indeed—illustrated by the way he had described sex in such a mechanical and unfeeling way! Did he not care how cruel and cold he had been to a woman who had welcomed him into her body during that blissful night?

She picked one of the blue flowers and held it to her nose, inhaling its sweet scent. Of course he didn’t. She was his servant, wasn’t she? His stable girl—nothing more than that. And she never would be.

Just before they left for the polo match, Eleni showered and changed into silk tunic and trousers and Kaliq’s eyes narrowed when he walked into the room and saw her.

So she had ignored his instructions, he thought grimly. He had been looking forward to seeing that superb, tight bottom encased in a clinging pair of jodhpurs. Or a sleek and fitted dress.

‘You will stand out by a mile, dressed like that,’ he offered drily. ‘And yet Zahra tells me you turned down the clothes which were offered to you.’

‘Indeed I did.’

‘Stubborn, obstinate Eleni,’ he said, in a low voice. ‘And why did you do that?’

‘Because I would rather be true to myself than pretend to be something I’m not, Highness,’ she replied as she bobbed him a curtsey.

He glanced at her—cursing the folds of silk which concealed her slender body from his eyes. How dared she have the temerity to disobey his wishes and cover herself up?

‘No coy look for your prince this morning?’ he mocked. ‘No murmured thanks for the treasures he brought to your bedchamber last night which made you gasp aloud with such joy?’

Eleni kept her face expressionless, even though inside her heart was racing so fast that she felt dizzy. ‘But you told me not to be familiar with you in public, Highness,’ she protested.

He glanced around. ‘And you can see for yourself that the room is empty!’

Her smile was serene. ‘Far better to get into practice of maintaining normal protocol, Highness—that way no embarrassing mistakes can be made.’

To his fury, Kaliq felt himself taken unawares by this impudent minx of a girl. How dared she answer him back—in a way which managed to be both insubordinate and yet smoothly diplomatic? Almost as if she had the upper hand! Why, he should show her who was boss… and… and.

Beneath his robes, he could feel himself growing hard and was just about to lock the door and take her into his arms until he realised such an action would throw his whole timetable out.

‘Let’s go!’ he growled.

She followed him outside to where sat a low and gleaming car as scarlet and as bright as a sunset and Eleni looked at it suspiciously.

‘Come on,’ said Kaliq impatiently.

‘What sort of machine is this?’

‘It’s a Maserati and it goes like a rocket.’

‘But, Highness, I have no desire to travel in a rocket—’

‘Just get in, will you?’ he snapped.

What could she do but obey him?

‘Hey,’ said Kaliq softly as he roared off down the drive in a spray of gravel, relenting slightly as he saw her knuckles whiten in her lap. ‘Just relax, little lizard.’

‘How can I relax when you drive so fast?’ she demanded hoarsely.

‘Is that a criticism?’

‘It’s an observation.’

‘You can go pretty fast yourself on a horse—I’ve seen you.’

‘A horse is different—at least then I have some element of control.’

‘You don’t trust my driving, Eleni—is that it?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Oh?’ He shot the one-word question at her.

Fear and all the conflicting emotions of the preceding night had loosened her tongue. Eleni shrugged. ‘You have a reputation for being…’

‘For being what?’ he demanded.

‘Nothing.’

‘Tell me!’

Eleni wriggled in her seat. All the rules had been turned upside down—maybe if she offended him badly enough with the truth then he would have her shipped straight back to Calista and she would be liberated from the dangerous excitement of his company. ‘Reckless,’ she said reluctantly.

His mouth hardened. He knew that—for it was no secret. And on one level Kaliq had always revelled in his daredevil, playboy image. As a teenager, he had embraced risk and clung to it like an old friend. Adrenalin was his lifeblood—as was pushing life to its very limits. It had been his way of coping with a world made dark by the disappearance of his brother—and his guilt at the part he had played in it.

Yet he had to admit that as time had gone on he had found that risk could be wearing—even boring. But making that discovery for himself was one thing—having this little nobody pointing it out to him was quite another! He felt the fire of anger and indignation and something else he didn’t quite recognise.

On impulse, he turned the car sharp left well before they reached the main gates and then bumped down the lane into a shaded little copse before coming to a halt. He switched off the ignition and turned to look at her.

‘This isn’t the way to the polo field,’ said Eleni slowly.

‘No.’

‘I thought you were worried we were going to be late for the polo.’

‘I was.’

‘Then… then what are we doing?’

‘This,’ he said fiercely. ‘As you think I’m so reckless, then let me live up to my reputation.’ And he leaned over her and began to kiss her with a passion so intense that she couldn’t have stopped him, even if she’d wanted to.

Eleni went up in flames. It was as if he’d set her on fire with that first touch of his lips and hard embrace—so that when he caught her breast almost roughly in his hand she urged him on with a fervent, ‘yes!’ And when he started pushing up her tunic and began to untie the belt of her trousers she found herself moaning her impatience—lifting her bottom to help him pull them down as if she had been born to be seduced in the cramped and confined space of a sports car.

And her eagerness seemed to ignite him—as if he needed any more encouragement! He groaned as he freed himself, so hard and so hot for her that he felt he might burst. If she had been more experienced, he might have just told her to take him in her mouth—but for some reason he found himself glad that she wasn’t. He wanted her—to plunge deep into her tightness and lose himself.

Letting the seat down so that it was almost horizontal, he loosened his clothing and positioned himself so that he could enter her. And after that first delicious thrust, he stayed completely still for a moment—just revelling in the magnificent sense of filling her with himself, staring down at the darkening of her eyes and the slow pinkening of her cheeks.

‘By the desert storm,’ he murmured, and began to move inside her.

It all happened very quickly. It seemed only seconds before Eleni was gasping with the same sweet pleasure that she had so recently discovered—and something in her swift orgasm seemed to please him because she was half aware that he was watching her before finally he jerked against her body with a low, wild groan of his own.

He did not move. They stayed like that for seconds—or maybe it was minutes—until he had stilled inside her. He cradled her head against his chest with his hand, stroking it almost absently as he struggled to free himself from the dreamy lethargy which had settled over him like a soft blanket and was quite unlike anything he’d ever known before. How could it be that a functional and urgent coupling in his car could feel this good?

He wrapped a silken curl around his finger. ‘You learn very quickly,’ he commented unsteadily.

Aware of a sudden danger—of the strange desire to tell him that he made her heart sing—Eleni pulled her head away from his chest. ‘Am I to be judged like a horse in the field?’ she questioned lightly.

His hand skated down to rest proprietorially on her bottom, letting it splay over the silken-soft skin. ‘Well, you do have a magnificent flank,’ he teased.

Automatically, she whispered her fingertips over the iron-hard muscle of his thigh. ‘And so do you.’

Kaliq swallowed, feeling himself stir once again. It was bizarre how easily and how comfortably she had slipped into the shadowy world of intimacy, he thought—but her words reminded him of where he was, and who with. He glanced at the heavy gold timepiece which gleamed at his wrist. ‘We had better get moving,’ he said, his gaze raking over her critically. He sighed. She looked exactly like a woman who had just been ravaged in the back of a car. ‘Can you repair your appearance?’ he demanded.

The pleasure of that urgent coupling was shattered as surely as an egg dropping onto stones from a great height—spattering her with shame and the realisation of how she must look. How quickly he could change from ardent lover to cruel critic, she thought.

‘I will do my best,’ she said tightly.

As he reversed the car back along the road and renewed their journey Eleni sat and brushed her hair—not caring that he kept glancing at the abundant fall, like a snake fascinated by a charmer.

‘You should wear it like that all the time,’ he commented.

‘It is not practical on horseback,’ said Eleni tartly, for his earlier words had stung her.

‘Are you angry with me?’ Now why the hell was he asking her that?

‘I just think it is unrealistic for you to expect me to look… neat… when you have been climbing all over me.’

Kaliq bit back a smile. He should be remonstrating with her for daring to berate her sheikh, not admiring her feistiness. ‘I thought you liked me climbing all over you.’

‘That isn’t the point.’

They arrived just as the match was starting and at least the thundering of the horses’ hooves on the grass was a welcome distraction from Eleni’s distracted and erotic thoughts as she tried to ignore the towering presence of the dark sheikh at her side. Or the attention he was getting. The polo field was absolutely packed with spectators—including some of the most beautiful and outrageously dressed women she had ever seen.

And every single one of them seemed to be staring at Kaliq.

‘All the women are looking at you,’ she blurted out, before she could stop herself.

He gave the flicker of an arrogant smile. ‘But of course they are,’ he said, with a careless shrug. ‘I excite the attention of women wherever I go—they are naturally drawn to my power and virility.’ His black eyes glittered. ‘You aren’t displaying signs of jealousy, are you, Eleni?’

She heard the unmistakable warning in his voice and heeded it, even though the predatory look on the faces of the women was like rubbing salt on her already-raw senses. ‘It is not my place to show signs of jealousy or possession, Highness,’ she said meekly.

Kaliq’s eyes narrowed. That submissive little tone of hers sounded suspiciously like insubordination, especially following on from her spirited responses in the car. ‘Just make sure you don’t,’ he snapped.

Occasionally, the women looked at her, as well—and Eleni knew she wasn’t imagining their undisguised disdain at her appearance. And suddenly she understood why Kaliq had warned her that she risked being patronised if she did not attempt to blend in. Had she really thought that this was going to be simple?

Until she forced herself to remember that none of these things mattered. Your feelings do not count. You are here for one purpose and that is to offer him your expertise on the proposed purchase of a horse. The fact that you have allowed the sheikh to bed you and make frantic love to you in his car is of no consequence to him, or to you.

‘So which horse is it that you’re thinking of buying?’ she asked him, her calm voice in complete contrast to the tumult of her thoughts.

He glanced down at her, sensing that she was completely oblivious to the impact she’d just had—and was continuing to have—on his senses. The faint pink of post-coital flush highlighted her high cheekbones and her hair looked like a dark satin waterfall.

She looked, he realized, a million times more alluring than the women who watched him, with their breasts and legs on display as if parading themselves to the highest bidder. And the other men in the crowd were not oblivious to her appeal, either. She stood out like a bright and exotic flower in a subdued suburban garden.

He swallowed. Why, who would think with that cool sense of self-possession that she had been writhing beneath him in the Maserati only minutes earlier? He felt the hot leap of renewed desire and forced himself to concentrate on the horse. ‘Which one do you think I favour?’

Eleni narrowed her eyes and searched the field. ‘The bay, I’d say—the one in the yellow colours. He’s certainly the most eye-catching.’

Kaliq smiled. ‘Bravo,’ he said softly. ‘He’s from Argentina—the home of the finest of all polo ponies. See how he moves.’

She fixed her eyes on the horse and watched him—a streak of pure muscle and agility as his rider urged him towards the goal.

‘So what do you think?’ asked Kaliq.

‘He is indeed magnificent,’ she replied, after a moment. ‘He seems to follow the ball with his eyes, wherever it is on the field.’

‘To watch the ball is the mark of a great polo pony!’ said Kaliq triumphantly. ‘You see, Eleni—you know nothing of polo and yet your instinct guides you towards the most important factor when determining whether to buy!’

At that moment the bay’s rider scored a goal and the crowd erupted into polite applause.

‘So shall I buy him, lizard?’

She looked at him. ‘The sheikh is much too extravagant with his money! It is too early to say—I would need to ride him first.’

‘That can be arranged.’

Eleni didn’t speak any English, but it was very clear from the sceptical glances directed at her by the horse’s owner after the match that he doubted her ability to ride such a towering creature.

Kaliq turned to her. ‘He wants us to come back tomorrow—when the horse is fresh.’

‘The best test of all is when a horse is tired,’ said Eleni stubbornly. ‘Tell him that five minutes is all I need—and I will be gentle with him.’

Kaliq’s lips curved. ‘Whatever the lady wants, the lady shall have.’

It shocked Eleni how thrilling she should find his compliment but why shouldn’t he be flattering about her? Just because she wasn’t high-born didn’t mean that she shouldn’t have the praise she assumed all men gave to lovers who pleased them.

And how to please him more? she wondered as she swung herself lightly up onto the bay. How to make herself the most unforgettable of all his bed-partners? So that he would always ache whenever he stopped to remember her.

It took just ten minutes for her to find out everything she needed to know about the horse and she jumped off, her face completely blank as she met the searching question searing at her from Kaliq’s black eyes.

‘You don’t rate him?’ he questioned shortly.

‘I rate him very highly indeed. That bay is the finest horse I’ve ever ridden. He’s light in the mouth and finely balanced—why, he responds so well that you could turn him on a market-trader’s coin!’

‘Then why the glum face?’

Eleni patted the animal’s neck. ‘I am aware that his owner is standing close by and while he cannot understand when we speak in our native tongue—he can certainly read the expression on our faces. And it is better that he thinks the worst. That way you will get a much better price for him, Highness.’

‘I commend you,’ Kaliq said, with a low laugh. ‘But do you really think that a man in my position needs to barter, lizard?’

Eleni shrugged. ‘I would have thought that pride would make you pursue the best possible price.’

His gaze ran over her with insolent appreciation. ‘What a perfect find you have turned out to be,’ he murmured. ‘But don’t you realise that your resourcefulness excites my sexual hunger? Suddenly I long to feel you in my arms and between my legs again.’

Eleni blushed. ‘Highness, please stop it. For we are not alone—and there is your reputation to think of.’

‘You must know that I’ve never cared about my reputation.’

‘Maybe not, but I do care about mine. And there will be time enough for that later—when we are alone once more.’

‘That’s a promise, is it?’ he questioned silkily.

Suddenly, Eleni found herself enjoying this game they seemed to be playing and she found that she was growing aroused herself. The steady beat of her heart accelerated and she wished that she could shout at the bay’s owner and tell him to leave them in peace, so that she could pull her dark lover down onto a bed of straw and lie with him in the most basic of ways.

I want to kiss you, Kaliq, she thought with a fierce pang of longing—I want to kiss you all over. I want to start with your lips and end with your toes and tell you that you are capturing my heart as surely as if you had thrown a silken net around it.

But wasn’t that what he had explicitly warned her against? Mistaking the pleasure he brought to her body for love itself? Eleni shut her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate on the physical. His body is all you are allowed, she reminded herself—and that is only for a limited period.

I need to make the most of my time with the sheikh, she thought, but her face showed nothing of the sudden fierce ache in her heart as she smiled up at him.

‘Buy the horse,’ she urged.

He nodded. ‘I will take your advice.’ He turned to the horse’s owner and began speaking in English and the man said something else which caused Kaliq to frown.

‘He doesn’t want to sell?’ questioned Eleni in surprise. ‘What did he say?’

Kaliq looked at her assessingly before switching to Calistan. ‘He said that he has never seen a woman display such skill in the saddle. And that if ever you could be tempted away from working for me—that he would offer you a job here.’

‘Well, that’s a compliment, isn’t it?’ said Eleni, wondering what had made his face darken with anger. ‘A compliment to you, as well as to me?’

‘It is not his place to try to poach the staff of the sheikh!’ he retorted hotly.

Eleni felt the sting of humiliation. How insulting his words were—as if she was nothing more than a tiny cog, a part of the sheikh’s huge workforce. But that’s all you are, taunted the voice of reason. All you ever will be. His employee. His horse girl. Or was she really labouring under the illusion that sharing his body gave her any real rights in his life?

‘He probably wants you in his bed, too!’ Kaliq added.

Eleni felt sick. Not just his horse girl, but his sexual toy, too. Until he grew bored with her. And then she felt the shiver of ice over her skin as a fragmented future swam before her eyes. What would happen to her when that day came—when the prince cast her aside—when another lover caught his eye and his imagination? Eleni swallowed down the acid taste of fear as she looked at him.

‘The man is about sixty,’ she said coldly.

Their eyes met. ‘You think that a virile man’s sexual desire is ever diminished by age?’ he questioned, on an arrogant boast.

Eleni swallowed. ‘I hadn’t given it much thought,’ she said listlessly.

His eyes narrowed. What was the matter with her now? Did she not realise that her place was to smile and to please him—not to stand before him creasing her creamy skin with a frown? Perhaps he would just have to show her and drive the lesson home. ‘Come on. Let’s go. I’m taking you home to bed,’ he said roughly.