Книга - The Sheikh and the Bought Bride

The Sheikh and the Bought Bride
Susan Mallery


Sold…to a gorgeous desert prince!



It was bad enough being hauled out of bed by palace guards. Now Victoria McCallan had just offered to pay off her father’s gambling debts – with herself as the prize! So the palace secretary was shocked when sexy Prince Kateb made her a counteroffer…

When Kateb whisked Victoria off to the desert to be his mistress for six months, the widowed ruler had no intention of falling in love. Duty decreed the El Deharia sheikh should wed a proper mate. But Kateb’s heart was telling him to claim Victoria as his woman now and forever.







“No!”

Victoria grabbed his arm with both hands. “No. You can’t. Please. I’ll do anything.” Tears filled her eyes. “I beg you. Don’t lock him away. Take me instead. He offered me in the game. Did you tell him no or did you accept? Was I in play? Did you win me?”



Kateb narrowed his gaze. “I knew he didn’t mean it.”



“You’ve spoken with him. You know he did. You took the bet. You played the hand. You won me. So take me instead.”



“As what?”



“As whatever you want.”





The Sheikh and The Bought Bride


By




Susan Mallery











www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


SUSAN MALLERY is a New York Times bestselling author of more than ninety romances. Her combination of humour, emotion and just-plain-sexy has made her a reader favourite. Susan makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her handsome husband and possibly the world’s cutest dog. Visit her website at www. SusanMallery.com.




Available in July 2010 from Mills & Boon® Special Moments™


From Friends to Forever

by Karen Templeton

&

The Family He Wanted

by Karen Sandler



Baby By Surprise

by Karen Rose Smith

&

Daddy by Surprise

by Debra Salonen



A Kid to the Rescue

by Susan Gable

&

Then Comes Baby

by Helen Brenna



The Sheikh and the Bought Bride

by Susan Mallery



A Cold Creek Homecoming

by RaeAnne Thayne



A Baby for the Bachelor

by Victoria Pade



The Baby Album

by Roz Denny Fox


To my editor, Susan Litman, who let me write the book of my heart.




Chapter One


When Victoria McCallan woke to find five armed and burly palace guards standing around her bed, she had a feeling this might not turn out to be her best day.

She was more curious than concerned about the intrusion, mostly because she hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, unless she counted the extra brownie she’d had at lunch, not that anyone but her would care about her skirts getting tighter. So this had to be a mistake.

Careful to keep the sheet pulled to her shoulders, she sat up and turned on the lamp on the nightstand, then blinked in the sudden brightness.

Yup, burly guards, in uniform. She frowned as she noticed their hands seemed to be hovering by their side arms. That couldn’t be good.

She cleared her throat and looked at the guy with the most ribbons on his jacket. “Are you sure you have the right room?” she asked.

“Victoria McCallan?”

Damn. Curiosity and concern flowed away, leaving a good dose of fear in their place.

Not that she would let the guards know. She’d always been good at acting as if everything was perfect, even as her world crumbled around her.

She raised her chin and did her best to speak without letting them see she was shaking. “That’s right. How can I help you?”

“Prince Kateb would like to see you right away.”

“Prince Kateb?”

She’d met him, of course. As personal assistant to Prince Nadim, she knew all the members of the royal family. Kateb rarely came into town, preferring to live in the desert. Much to the annoyance of his father.

“What does he want with me?”

“That is not for me to say. If you’ll come with us?”

The guard might be asking a question, but she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be allowed to say no.

“Of course. If you’ll just give me a moment and some privacy to get dressed, I’ll—”

“That won’t be necessary,” the guard told her. He tossed her the robe from the foot of the bed, then motioned for the other guards to turn around.

Victoria blinked at him. “I’m not meeting the prince in my robe.”

The head guard’s steely gaze told her that she just might have that one wrong.

What was going on? she wondered, as she pulled on the silk robe and then scrambled to her feet. She jerked the fabric closed and fastened the tie before slipping into her matching, lavender marabou slippers.

“This is crazy,” she muttered, as much to herself as to him. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

She was a good assistant, who kept track of Prince Nadim’s appointments and made sure his office ran smoothly. She didn’t have parties in her room or run off with the royal silver. Her passport was up-to-date, she was friendly with the other palace employees and she paid her taxes. What on earth would cause Prince Kateb, whom she barely knew, to send guards to her room? There weren’t any—

She came to a stop. The head guard motioned for her to keep walking, which she did, but she wasn’t paying attention to where they were going. She’d figured out the problem—and it was a big one.

A month ago, in a moment of weakness, she’d e-mailed her father. She knew better, knew that getting in touch with him would be a huge mistake. Once he’d answered, it had been too late to change her mind. He’d been delighted to discover she was living in the royal palace in El Deharia and had quickly flown out for a visit.

The man had always been nothing but trouble, she thought grimly as she was taken into an elevator and the basement button pushed. Palaces didn’t actually have basements…they had dungeons. She knew enough about El Deharian history to know that nothing good ever happened in the dungeon.

The doors opened onto a long corridor. But this wasn’t just any corridor. The walls were stone, and there were actual torches in iron holders, although the light came from wired fixtures on the ceiling. The place was cool and the air had a heaviness that spoke of centuries gone by and of fear.

Victoria shivered slightly and wished she’d brought a blanket to wrap around herself as well as her robe. Her high-heeled, feather-covered slippers clicked loudly on the worn stone floor. She kept her gaze firmly on the guard in front of her. His back was much safer than anything else she might see. She was terrified that ancient whips and torture devices could lie behind closed doors. She braced herself for the sound of screams and hoped if she heard any, they wouldn’t be her own.

Anxiety caused her throat to tighten and made it difficult to breathe. Her father had done something bad. She was sure of it. The only question was how bad and how would the consequences affect her…again.

The guard led her to an open door, then motioned for her to go inside. She squared her shoulders, sucked in a breath she hoped wouldn’t be her last and stepped into the room.

Surprisingly, the space wasn’t all that scary. It was larger than she would have expected with tapestries on the wall. A carved gaming table sat in the middle and there were a half dozen or so chairs that—

Her gaze returned to the gaming table covered with playing cards, then scanned the area until she found her father standing in a corner, obviously trying to look casual.

One look at Dean McCallan told her the truth. Her charming, handsome, gambler of a father had broken his promise to never play cards again.

He was pale under his tan. His too-long blond hair no longer looked stylish. He’d gone from successful man of the world to frightened failure in the space of an evening.

“What did you do?” she asked, not caring there were other people in the room. She had to know how bad things were going to get.

“Nothing, Vi. You need to believe me.” He held up both hands, as if to show his innocence. “It was a friendly game of poker.”

“You weren’t supposed to be playing cards. You said you were in recovery. That you hadn’t played in three years.”

Dean flashed her his famous smile, the one that had always made her mother weak at the knees. It triggered the opposite reaction in Victoria. She knew to brace herself because bad times were coming.

“The prince offered me a game. It would have been rude to say no.”

Right. Because it couldn’t be Dean’s fault, she thought bitterly. There was no way her charming father would ever think to say, “Hey, Your Royal Highness, thanks for the invite but I’m not a good bet. Actually I’m too good a bet. Show me a deck of cards and I’ll happily lose myself in any game. I’ll also take the rent money, the food money and any savings my wife might have scraped together.”

Victoria shook off the past. Her mother had died nearly ten years ago, mostly from the broken heart caused by loving Dean McCallan. She hadn’t seen her father since the funeral and now she was sorry she’d ever gotten in touch with him.

“How much?” she asked knowing she would have to clean out her savings and very possibly her I.R.A. to make this right.

Dean glanced at the guards, then gave her a friendly smile. “It’s not exactly about the money, Vi.”

Her stomach knotted as cold fear swept through her. “Tell me you didn’t cheat,” she whispered, knowing if he had, it would have pushed him past saving.

There were footsteps in the corridor. Victoria turned and saw Prince Kateb sweep into the room.

She might be wearing four-inch heels, but he was still considerably taller. His eyes were dark, as was his hair, and there was a vicious scar along one cheek. The end of it just kissed the corner of his mouth, pulling it down and making him seem as if he were contemptuous of everything. Of course, that might not be the scar.

He wore dark trousers and a white shirt. Practically casual clothes, but on him they appeared regal somehow. Without the scar, he would have been handsome. With it, he was a child’s nightmare come to life. Victoria had to consciously keep from shivering in his presence.

“This is your father?” Kateb said, staring at Victoria.

“Yes.”

“You invited him to visit you?”

She thought about saying she was sorry. That she hadn’t seen her father in years, and he’d sworn he’d changed. She’d been stupid enough to believe him.

“Yes.”

Kateb’s dark gaze seemed to see through to her soul. She pulled her robe more tightly around her body, wishing the fabric was something more substantial than silk. Why couldn’t she have a chenille robe like normal people? And sweats. She should be wearing sweats instead of a short nightie with cute matching panties. Not that Kateb would care about her fashion sense.

“He cheated at cards,” Kateb said.

Victoria wasn’t even surprised. She didn’t bother looking at her father. He would say or do anything to try to make the situation better. The truth would only be a happy accident.

She raised her chin. “I apologize, sir,” she said. “I assume you’ll be deporting him immediately. Is it possible for me to reimburse you for the money he tried to take?”

Kateb took a step closer. “Deportation isn’t enough punishment for his crime, Ms. McCallan. He has dishonored me and by doing so has dishonored the royal family of El Deharia.”

“Wh-what does that mean?” Dean asked, his voice shaking. “Vi, you can’t let them hurt me.”

Victoria ignored him. Her mind raced. Hiring a lawyer wasn’t a quick option. She would have to find one willing to take her father’s case. And as it was against the royal family, that could be a trick. There was always the American embassy, but they tended to frown on U.S. citizens breaking local laws. Especially when breaking those laws insulted princes of friendly countries.

“When his dishonestly was discovered,” Kateb continued, staring into Victoria’s eyes as if to impress the seriousness of the situation upon her, “he didn’t have the money to cover his debts.”

Why would he bother, she thought bitterly. Dean had never been a fan of being responsible.

“As I said, sir, I’ll cover his debts.”

Kateb seemed unimpressed. “He offered something else, instead.”

Victoria didn’t understand. “What could my father possibly have that would be of interest to you? Whatever he’s been telling you, he’s not a rich man. Please. Let me pay the money he owes you. I have it in the Central Bank. I can get the account number right now and you can confirm I’m—”

“He offered you.”

The room began to spin, and Victoria put out a hand to steady herself. She felt the cool, smooth stone of the wall and wished she could sink into it.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

Kateb shrugged. “When I confronted your father with his cheating, he begged me to be merciful. He offered me money, which I’m sure he did not have. When that didn’t work, he said he had a beautiful daughter here in the palace who would do anything to save him. He said I could have you for as long as I wished.”

Victoria straightened, then turned to stare at Dean. Her father sagged a little.

“Honey,” he began, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” she said coldly. “You could have not played cards.”

The sense of betrayal was familiar, as was the disappointing realization that Dean wasn’t like other fathers. Nothing mattered more than the thrill of gambling. No matter how often he promised or went to meetings or said all the right things, in the end, the cards won.

She forced herself to stand tall and face the prince. “What happens now?”

“Your father goes to prison. It will be up to the judge to determine the sentence. Eight or ten years should suffice.”

“Dear God, no!” Dean McCallan sank onto the stone floor and covered his face with his hands.

He looked broken and defeated. She wanted to believe he finally understood that his actions had consequences, that he’d learned his lesson, that he would change. But she knew better. He was probably incapable of being different. It was time to turn her back on him.

Except she’d made a promise ten years ago. As her mother lay dying, she had made Victoria swear she would protect Dean, no matter what—at any cost. And Victoria had agreed—because her mother had always been there for her, had always loved her and supported her. Dean had been her only weakness and wasn’t everyone allowed a single mistake?

“Punish me instead,” she said, turning back to Kateb. “Let him go and take me.”

Dean scrambled to his feet. “Victoria,” he said, sounding hopeful, “you’d do that for me?”

“No. I’d do it for Mom.” She stared at the prince. “Put me in jail. I’m a McCallan as well. The shame and dishonor is as much mine.”

“I have no desire to imprison you,” Kateb said, wishing he were back in the desert, where life was simple and rules enforced without thought. Had Dean McCallan been caught cheating out there, someone would have cut off his hand…or his head. There would not be endless discussion of the problem and various solutions.

Send a woman to prison for her father’s crimes? Impossible. Not even this woman who was nothing but a waste of space.

He knew Victoria McCallan—at least as much as was necessary to understand her character. She was pretty enough, in an obvious way, with impressive curves and blond hair. She worked for Prince Nadim as his assistant and had spent the past two years trying to get Nadim to notice her. She wanted to marry a prince. She cared nothing for Nadim, not that he could blame her for that. Nadim had the emotional depth of a grain of sand and the personality of gray paint. Still, Victoria had pursued him. Not that he had noticed.

Nadim’s recent engagement to a woman of the king’s choosing had shattered her plans. Kateb was sure that Victoria would soon be leaving their country in search of other potential rich husbands. In the meantime, there was the problem of what to do with her father.

He looked at the head guard. “Take him away.”

Victoria sucked in her breath, then grabbed Kateb’s arm. He ignored his body’s reaction to her touch. She was female, he was male—it meant nothing more than that.

“No. You can’t.” She stared at him. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

He shook off her hand and her claim. “You exceed your position and try my patience.”

“He’s my father.”

Kateb looked between her and the other man. He would have sworn Victoria had nothing but contempt for her father, so why this display of emotion? Why would she care? Unless the situation with Dean wasn’t the main point at all. Did she see this moment as an opportunity? Was one prince as good as another?

There was a time when he had not been so cynical about women. When he had believed in love and marriage and a happy union. But he had spent the past five years being pursued by women on every continent. They didn’t care about him directly—they wanted the title and the wealth that came with marrying a sheik. Nothing more.

He stepped back and looked at the woman before him. She was dressed in silk and lace, and ridiculous slippers. Her long, curly hair, large eyes and red lips were all designed to seduce. Where her robe gaped open, he could see full breasts that quivered with every breath.

She would do whatever was necessary to get what she wanted. And while he respected an adversary who would use any means to win, he didn’t like those tactics being used on him.

Did she really think he was foolish enough to fall for her superficial beauty? How far would she go in her pursuit of a prince?

He looked at the father who stood anxiously awaiting the next move in the game. The man who should be defending his child, yet did nothing. Would Dean allow his daughter to sacrifice herself on his behalf, or was he in on the scam as well? Had they conspired to set up Kateb?

His gut told him they had not, but until he was sure, he would assume the worst.

“Take him into the hallway and keep him there,” Kateb said, his voice low.

The guards grabbed Dean, who whimpered and pleaded, and dragged him out. The door closed behind him.

“What will you do to save your father?” he asked.

“Whatever you ask.”

Something flickered in her blue eyes. Had he been a kinder man, he would have assumed fear. But he hadn’t been kind for many years now.

“It must be difficult for you, a woman alone, to make her way in a man’s world,” he said, ignoring the growing need pounding through his body. Even disheveled and taken from her bed, she appealed to him. “The equality you took for granted in America is more difficult to find here. Yet you have done well. You’ve been Nadim’s assistant for some time now.”

“Two years.”

“A pity about his engagement.”

“He seems very happy.”

“But you are not. All your plans…crushed.”

Her spine stiffened. She stared him in the eye. “That has nothing to do with my father.”

“Are you so sure? Perhaps you are eager to try to win me instead. What an excellent opportunity this must be for you. To present yourself dressed as you are? To beg?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m dressed like this because your guards wouldn’t let me put on regular clothes.”

“And this is how you sleep each night? I think not.”

“Then you need to go check my closet.” Anger added force to her voice. “You think I’m trying to seduce you? That when I woke up and saw five guards standing around my bed I thought it was my lucky day? Oh, goody. Now I get a shot at Prince Kateb? And then they stood there while I flipped through my wardrobe and found something appropriate?”

She dropped her arms to her side. “No, wait. I know. I actually dress like this every night hoping my father, whom I haven’t seen in years, happens to come by where he gets in a card game with you so he can cheat and then you send for me. Thank goodness all my plans are finally working out.”

She had a point, he thought grudgingly. Not that he would admit that to her. And she had spirit, which appealed to him nearly as much as her body.

“Do you deny you wished to marry Nadim?” he demanded.

The fight seemed to go out of her. “I wouldn’t have said no,” she admitted, staring at the floor. “But it’s not what you think. It was about security. Princes don’t get divorced. At least not here.”

“But you have no feelings for him.”

“He’s very nice.”

Kateb waited.

She raised her head and glared at him. “What do you want from me? Am I to be punished because I fantasized about marrying a prince? Fine. Do what you want. You have all the power here. Right now I’m more concerned about my father.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my father.”

“That isn’t the reason. I saw how you looked at him. You resent him for putting you in this position. You are angry with him.”

“He’s still my father.”

Kateb allowed the silence to weigh on her. She stood her ground, meeting his gaze, not speaking. Whatever else there was, she would not tell him. Interesting.

“Will you take his place?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

“In jail?”

She swallowed. He could smell her fear.

“Yes.”

“Life there is harsh. Unpleasant.”

“I made a promise.”

The words seemed forced out of her. He knew he had won something important but couldn’t say what.

A promise. What did a woman like her know about promises?

He stared into her eyes and saw a lifetime of weariness there. Her soul was old beyond her years. Or was he simply looking for a reason because that appealed to him more than the reality of a mercenary woman taking advantage of the situation?

If only Cantara were here, with him. She would know the truth. But if she were still here, he would not be in this situation. He would not need a night of cards to fill his hours. He would not have to face the darkness that surrounded him. The emptiness.

“Your father attempted to steal from me,” Kateb said coldly. “Had I not caught him cheating, he would have left this place with several hundred thousand dollars.”

Victoria’s breath caught.

“He cheated in the royal palace, with guards in the room. Now that there are consequences, he is content to let you take his place in prison.”

“I know.”

What kind of father did that? Why wasn’t the man willing to be responsible? Why was she enabling his cowardice?

He wanted to teach them both a lesson. The obvious solution was to put Dean McCallan in jail.

“Return to your room,” he told her. “You will be notified when he is sentenced. You will be able to visit with him before he begins serving his time, but not after. There are—”

“No!” She grabbed his arm with both hands. “No. You can’t. Please. I’ll do anything.” Tears filled her eyes. “My mother made me promise I would take care of him. That I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. She died loving him. Please, I beg you. Don’t lock him away. Take me instead. He offered me in the game. Did you tell him no or did you accept? Was I in play? Did you win me?”

Kateb narrowed his gaze. “I knew he didn’t mean it.”

“You’ve spoken with him. You know he did. You took the bet. You played the hand. You won me. So take me instead.”

“As what?”

Victoria drew herself up to her full height. “As whatever you want.”




Chapter Two


Victoria sensed Kateb’s impatience with both her and the situation. She knew she was running out of options. Desperate times and all that, she thought grimly, then shrugged out of her robe.

The silk fell to the stone floor and puddled at her feet. Kateb’s gaze never left her face.

“Perhaps you’re not as tempting as you think,” he said coolly.

“Perhaps not, but I have to try.”

“You are offering yourself? For a night? Do you really think that could repay your father’s transgressions?”

“I only have myself to offer.” She felt cold and thought she might throw up. “You won’t take my money and I have no other skills you’d appreciate. I doubt my computer skills are of much use to you in the desert.” Her throat tightened and she fought fear. “It doesn’t have to be for a night.”

One eyebrow raised. “Longer? To what end? You are not worthy of marriage.”

A well-placed slap, she thought, refusing to let him know he’d hurt her. “I will be your mistress for however long you wish. I’ll go with you into the desert and do whatever you say. Anything. In return my father goes free. You can banish him from the country. Make sure he never returns to El Deharia. Just don’t put him in jail.”

Kateb’s dark gaze continued to study her. She trembled but was determined not to let him see. At last he reached for the skinny straps on her nightie. He slid first one then the other off her shoulders. The short gown joined the robe on the stone floor.

Except for a pair of tiny bikini panties, she was naked before him. She desperately wanted to cover herself, to turn away. Embarrassment burned her cheeks, but she continued to stand there. It was the last card in her hand. If this didn’t work, she would have to fold.

Dean McCallan wasn’t worth it—she was clear on that. But this wasn’t about him. This was about the promise she’d made her mother.

He looked her up and down. She had no idea what he was thinking—if he wanted her or not. Then he turned away.

“Cover yourself.”

She had lost.

There was nothing left, she thought, refusing to cry in front of him.

Kateb stepped into the hall. Not knowing what else to do, she followed him. He stopped in front of Dean.

“Your daughter has agreed to be my mistress for six months. I will take her into the desert with me until the time is up. Then she may return. You will leave El Deharia on the first flight out in the morning. You are never to step foot in this country again. If you do, you will be shot on sight. Do I make myself clear?”

For the second time that night Victoria had trouble maintaining her balance. He was accepting? Her father wouldn’t go to jail?

Momentary relief was followed by the realization that she’d, in essence, sold herself to a man she didn’t know and who obviously thought very little of her.

The guard released her father. Dean grabbed Kateb’s hand and shook it. “Of course. Of course. Good of you to see it was all a misunderstanding.” He turned to Victoria and actually smiled at her. “I guess I need to be going. That’s all right. I have business back home. Places to go. People to see.”

Victoria wasn’t even surprised. It was as if he hadn’t heard anything except he was free to go. Nothing else mattered.

Kateb glared at him. “Did you not hear me? I’m keeping your daughter.”

Dean struggled. “She’s a pretty girl.”

Victoria felt Kateb’s fury. As a man of the desert, he would hold the protection of his family above all. That a father could give up his daughter to save himself was beyond anything he could imagine.

She quickly stepped between them. She turned her back on her father and stared into Kateb’s angry, dark eyes.

“He’s not worth it,” she whispered. “Have the guards take him away.”

“No tender goodbyes?” he asked cynically.

“What would you have to say to him if you were me?”

Kateb nodded. “Very well. Escort Mr. McCallan to his room. Guard him while he packs his things, then take him to the airport.”

Victoria turned and watched her father being led away. When he reached the corner, he glanced back and waved. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Vi. Call me when you’re back home.”

She ignored him.

Then she and the prince of the desert were alone.

“We will also leave in the morning,” he told her. “Be ready by ten.”

There was an odd taste in her mouth. She supposed it was a combination of fear and apprehension.

“What should I bring?” she asked.

“Whatever you like. You will be with me for six months.”

She wanted him to tell her that it would be all right. That he wasn’t horrible and the time would go quickly. But she was nothing to him. Why would he offer comfort?

“You may return to your room,” he told her.

She nodded and went in the opposite direction of the guards and her father. The walk to the elevator would be longer, but she wouldn’t have to worry about running into them.

She had gone halfway down the hall when Kateb called to her.

She looked over her shoulder.

“The promise?” he asked. “Was he worth it?”

“Not to me,” she admitted. “But he was to her.”



Victoria had worried she might have trouble being ready on time, but it turned out not to be an issue. The whole not-sleeping thing really helped with time management, she thought as she checked her drawers one last time. There was nothing like a run-in with a guard and a prince, not to mention the worry of being a stranger’s mistress, to keep one tense and awake. Now if only the stress took away her appetite, she could finally lose ten pounds.

She’d had no idea what to pack for six months in the desert. Nor did she know what would happen when her time with Kateb was finished. She knew she wouldn’t have a job to return to. Nadim wasn’t the type to hold the position open, assuming he would be interested in Kateb’s former mistress as office staff. No doubt Nadim would replace her quickly and then forget she’d ever worked for him.

To think she’d spent two years trying to get her boss to notice her. Not that she’d ever been in love with him, or even sure she’d liked him. From what she’d seen, he’d been a little lacking in the personality department. But he’d represented safety and security and after the way she’d grown up, both were very appealing.

Now she had neither, she thought as she sealed the last of the boxes she was leaving behind, then pushed away the fear that made it difficult to breathe. It was only six months. Then she would return to the United States and start over. She had her savings. She would start a business of some kind, make a life. She was resourceful.

At exactly 9:58 a.m., she heard people in the hallway. She’d already sorted her luggage—the suitcases held what she would bring into the desert and the boxes contained everything else. There was an impressive pile of both. She’d accumulated a lot in the past two years.

There was a sharp knock, then Kateb swept into the room.

There was no other way to describe his appearance. He moved quickly, confidently, with a masculine grace that spoke of a man comfortable in any situation. She’d thought he might wear traditional robes for their travel but instead he had on jeans, boots and a long-sleeved shirt. If not for the air of imperial arrogance, he could almost pass for a regular kind of guy—a very handsome regular guy with that wicked scar and dark eyes that made her wonder if he could see right into her.

“You are ready?” he asked.

She motioned to the boxes and closed suitcases. “No. I just stacked these here for show.”

One eyebrow raised.

Okay. Perhaps snarky humor wasn’t his thing. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m nervous. Yes, I’m ready.”

“You did not try to escape in the night.”

She noticed the use of the word try. As in “you can try, but you will fail.”

“I gave my word,” she said, then held up her hand. “Don’t say anything bad, please. My word has value. I don’t expect you to believe that, but it’s true.”

“Because your father’s does not?”

“I know, I know. Classic psychological response to living with a chronic liar. Can we go now?”

The other eyebrow went up. Note to self: Prince Kateb didn’t like snarky humor or someone else making the rules. Neither was especially good news, she thought.

Kateb said something she couldn’t hear and several men crowded into her quarters. They reached for the luggage and the boxes.

“I’m taking those with me,” she said, indicating the bags. “The boxes will be stored.” She gave the floor and room number of where they should be taken.

Kateb nodded, as if his permission were required for them to do as she said. And it probably was.

“Is there electricity where we’re going?” she asked. “I brought my curling iron.” Not to mention her blow-dryer, her iPod and her cell-phone charger. She wasn’t sure about cell service out in the desert, but she would want to charge it before she returned to the city.

“Once we arrive, you will have everything that you need,” he told her.

Which, she noted, wasn’t exactly a yes. “I’m guessing we have different ideas about what I need. You are unlikely to see the importance of a curling iron.”

His gaze moved to her hair, which she’d pulled back in a ponytail for the trip. But she’d still curled the ends. She might be going to the girlfriend equivalent of prison, but she would look good on the way.

“We will leave now,” he told her.

She followed him out of the room and into the corridor. There was no one to see her off. Her friend, Maggie, was on a trip with her fiancé, Prince Oadir—Kateb’s brother. Victoria had left a note explaining she would be gone for a while. After two years in El Deharia, she didn’t have any friends back home who would notice she’d disappeared for a few months, and she certainly wasn’t going to be in touch with her father. It was, she thought sadly, a very lonely feeling.

They walked through the palace, heading for the back. When they stepped outside Victoria saw several large trucks in the rear courtyard.

“I don’t have that much luggage,” she said, wondering what they were for.

“We are taking supplies,” Kateb told her. “The desert people trade for what they need. You will travel with me.” He pointed to a Land Rover parked on the side.

“The SUV of kings,” she murmured. Didn’t the British royal family also use Land Rovers? But she didn’t ask. Speaking suddenly seemed difficult. Despite the bright sun and warm temperature, her body felt stiff and cold. The closer she got to the SUV, the harder it was to move. Fear clawed at her throat. Panic made her stomach clench.

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t go out in the desert with a man she didn’t know. What was going to happen? How horrible was it going to be? Her father didn’t deserve her sacrifice, she thought bitterly. He certainly didn’t appreciate it.

But she hadn’t done it for her father, she reminded herself.

“Victoria?”

A guard held open the passenger door. She sucked in a steadying breath and slid onto the smooth leather. The car door closed next to her. The sound seemed unnaturally loud—as if she’d just been cut off from everything safe and good.

Her luggage had already been loaded into one of the trucks. She was the only woman in a sea of workers and guards and drivers. There was no one to appeal to, no one to protect her. She was truly on her own.



Kateb drove the familiar road into the desert. For the first day, they would see signs of villages and small towns but by this time tomorrow, all civilization would have been left behind.

Victoria was mercifully silent. After a restless night, he wasn’t in the mood for inane conversation. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have blamed her for his lack of sleep, but he’d spent the hours of darkness tossing and turning in his bed, trying not to think about her. An impossible task, given that he’d seen her nearly naked the day before.

It was as if the image of her body were imprinted on his brain. He didn’t have to close his eyes to see her pale skin and full breasts. The vision taunted him, reminding him how long it had been since he’d been with a woman. And the wanting made him angry.

He knew the anger was more about himself than her, but she was easy to blame. If he’d had less self-control, he would have pulled over and taken her right there, on the front seat, the men with them be damned. But he wouldn’t. Not only because he would never force her or put on a show for his men, but because the need was too specific. He wanted Victoria, not a faceless woman to satisfy himself, and that bothered him.

It had been five years since Cantara had died. Five years during which he’d mourned her loss. There had been times when desire had driven him to someone’s bed, but those brief hours had been about physical need. The woman herself had been a means to an end. Nothing more. He refused to have Victoria be different.

She was nothing like Cantara. His beautiful wife had been desert born, a laughing, dark-haired beauty. They’d grown up together. He’d known everything about her. There had been no surprises, no mysteries, and he preferred that. She had understood him, his position, his destiny. She had been proud, but never assumed they were equals. She had been his wife and that had been enough for her.

He glanced at Victoria, taking in the perfect profile, the fullness of her mouth. This woman would not be content to be anything but a man’s true match, he thought. She would expect her opinion to matter. She would want to talk about everything. Her feelings, her plans, her life. It was more than a prince should have to bear. She would—

He glanced at her again and noticed the slight tremor in her cheek. As if her teeth had been tightly clenched for some time. She was pale and had her hands tightly clasped. He caught it then, the bitter scent.

Fear.

The knowledge made him weary. He was not cruel enough to allow her to terrorize herself with her concerns.

“Nothing will happen until we arrive at the village,” he said sharply.

Her breath caught. He felt her glance at him. “H-how long will that take?”

“Three days. Very few people know the place. It’s beautiful, at least I find it so. Like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

He hoped she wouldn’t ask what would happen when they did finally arrive. He had no answer for that. He had taken her because she had offered herself in exchange for her father and the desert law respected a noble sacrifice. But to what end? Did he really plan to take her for his mistress?

He looked at her again. She wore jeans and ridiculous boots with high heels. The shirt was made of some clingy fabric that seemed to hug her breasts. He forced himself to return his attention to the road.

He found her attractive and would enjoy her in his bed, but he was reluctant to commit to longer than a single night. Which meant he was going to have to find something else for Victoria to do.

“I, uh, thought the people of the desert were nomadic,” she said.

“Many are, but many also enjoy life in the desert and do not feel compelled to move from camp to camp. The village provides the best of both worlds.”

“I hope I brought enough sunscreen,” she murmured.

“We will send for more if you did not,” he told her.

“So you don’t plan to stake me out in the sun and let the ants eat me alive?”

“This is not the Old West,” said Kateb, bemused.

“I know, but it’s still a pretty gruesome punishment. Hanging would be faster.”

“There is less opportunity for a rescue with a hanging.”

“Good point.”

The fear had faded. Now he could smell her perfume, or maybe just the scent of her body. Either way it pleased him and in being pleased, he was annoyed.

Kateb sighed. It was going to be a long six months.



They made two brief stops for water and bathroom breaks. Victoria was thrilled they used something very close to a rest area, although she had a bad feeling the amenities were going to get worse before they got better.

Just before sunset they stopped for the night and made camp. Several tents were put up along with what looked like sleeping bags and bedrolls. Two men went to work over a large camp stove while another set up something that looked suspiciously like a gas barbecue.

Kateb came up beside her. “You look concerned. Are the facilities not to your liking?”

She guessed he was seeking information rather than offering to change anything on her behalf. She pointed at the stove. “I thought there would be an open fire and we’d be cooking food on sticks.”

That single eyebrow raised again. “Where would we get fuel for the fire?”

She glanced around at the campsite. They’d backed in the trucks, butting them up against a cliff. There were a few sad-looking shrubs, but nothing that could pass for logs or even sticks.

“True.”

“The stoves are more efficient. They heat quickly and there is little danger from fire.”

“There’s not that much to burn.”

“There is us.”

“Oh. Right.” She looked at the men working quickly by the stove. “Should I offer to help? At the castle the chefs were very fussy about who they allowed in their kitchen. They let me rinse off berries once.” Which she’d apparently done incorrectly because one of the cooks had muttered something under his breath and grabbed the basket from her.

“Why would you help?”

“They’re staff, I’m staff. It’s polite to offer.”

“You are not expected to cook the meal.”

Right. Because she was expected to provide other services. Her stomach tightened, which she ignored, along with any thoughts about sharing Kateb’s bed. That was for later. When they arrived at the mysterious desert village. For now she was safe.

She glanced at him, at the proud set of his head, at the deep scar on his cheek. Kateb ruled the desert. He could do what he would like with her and no one would stop him. Which made safe a relative term. She took a step back.

“I’ve never been camping,” she said. “This is nice. Desert life is more modern than I would have thought.”

“This is not desert life. This is efficient transportation. To be in the desert is to be one with the land. It is to travel with camels and horses, bringing only what you need, knowing what you forget you do without. There is beauty deep in the desert, but danger as well.”

Her gaze was drawn to his scar. She’d heard rumors that he’d been attacked as a teenager, but she never learned the details. Asking hadn’t seemed important. Her total knowledge about Kateb would barely fill a good-sized e-mail. If she’d known she was going to be spending some serious time in his company, she would have asked more questions.

One of the men brought over two folding chairs, setting them in the shade. Victoria wasn’t sure of protocol, but she waited until Kateb was seated before sitting down herself. When the man returned with two bottles of water, she accepted one gratefully.

“I grew up in Texas,” she said, more to fill the silence than because she thought he was interested. “A little town between Houston and Dallas. It was nothing like this, although it could get hot in the summer. There weren’t a lot of trees, so when people were outside, there wasn’t anywhere to go to escape the sun. I remember summer storms racing through. I would stand out in the rain, spinning and spinning. Not that the rain cooled things off very much.”

“Did you like living there?”

“I didn’t know anything else. My dad would disappear for weeks at a time. Mom missed him when he was gone, but I liked that it was just the two of us. It felt safer. Then he would come back, sometime with a lot of money, sometimes broke and driving on fumes. Either way she was happy—until he left again.”

That was a long time ago, she thought sadly. But she remembered everything about those days.

“When did she die?”

“On my seventeenth birthday.”

Victoria didn’t want to think about that. “She worked two jobs most of the time. She did hair during the day and worked at a bar at night. She used to talk about us opening a beauty shop together. I never wanted to tell her that I was just waiting to turn eighteen to leave.”

“Where did you go?”

“Dallas.” She smiled at the memory. “It was really the big city for me. I got a job, enrolled in community college and worked my butt off. I started off waitressing at a diner, then moved up to nicer places. I made a lot with tips and when I got my associates degree, I found a job as an administrative assistant.”

“Why not a four-year degree?”

“Have you priced college lately?” She shrugged. “It’s a lot more money. Working full-time and going to college isn’t easy. So I got a job working for an oil company.”

“And through them, met Nadim.”

She could hear the judgment in his voice. “Eventually.”

“What about your father?”

“I didn’t talk to him much. He came by a few times, looking for money.”

“Did you give him any?”

“The first time. Then I stopped.” She didn’t want to think about that, either. “So there’s probably not a shower in one of those trucks.”

“No. You will have to wait until we arrive at the village.”

Great. “And I’m going to go out on a limb and say you didn’t think to bring an extension cord. For my curling iron?”

He stared at her. There wasn’t a hint of humor in his dark eyes or even a twitch of his mouth. “No.”

“You don’t actually do the humor thing, do you?” she asked, knowing it was probably a mistake, or at least presumptuous.

“Were you being funny?”

She laughed. “Careful. You wouldn’t want to appear human.”

“I am many things, Victoria.”

His gaze was steady as he spoke. Steady and almost…predatory.

No, she told herself. She was imagining things. He wasn’t actually interested in her. Keeping her around was all about her paying her father’s debt. But once the idea appeared in her brain, she couldn’t seem to push it away. It made her aware of him, sitting close to her. Of the way he dominated the space, despite the fact that they were outdoors.

She shivered.

“Do we, um, drive the whole way?” she asked, hoping a neutral topic change would make her feel better.

“Not quite.” He looked away. “There is a road to the village. The last day I will ride. You may join me if you wish. Assuming you ride.”

“Horses, right? Not camels.”

“No camels.”

“Then I ride.” She’d learned the first year she’d been in El Deharia. Having access to the royal stable was one of the perks of her job. Even the lesser horses the staff was permitted to ride were still amazing, purebred animals that ran like the wind.

“I hope you have more sensible boots than those.”

She glanced down at her fashionable boots with their four-inch heels. “These are stunning.”

“They are impractical.”

“They were on sale. You would seriously die if I told you how much I’d saved.” She looked at him, then away. “Or maybe not.” Something told her Kateb wasn’t the type to shop. Or care about a sale.

She heard a sharp cry in the distance. A louder call answered nearby. Whatever made it sounded large and wolflike.

Her instinct was to run for safety, but Kateb didn’t move and none of the other men reacted.

“Is that something we should worry about?” she asked.

“Not if you stay close to camp.”

Suddenly their location seemed more thought-out than she’d first thought. With the cliffs at their back and the trucks forming a semicircle, it would be difficult for someone to attack from any direction.

While she appreciated the planning, she hoped it wasn’t a necessary precaution. If they were attacked, she wouldn’t be good for much more than shrieking panic.

What on earth was she doing here, in the middle of the desert with a man she didn’t know? What had she been thinking, throwing herself on Kateb’s mercy and offering to take her father’s place? Dean had earned some time in jail. He’d cheated at cards and offered her as payment. She shouldn’t care what happened to him.

Only she hadn’t done it for him, she reminded herself.

She looked at Kateb, wondering what he expected of her. What would he want her to do? Did he really plan to take her to his bed? Fear claimed her, making it difficult not to bolt for freedom. Not that the desert provided much more safety.

“Is one of those tents mine?” she asked.

He pointed to the one in the middle.

“Excuse me,” she said, and walked toward it.

Inside she found a cot with bedding. Her luggage had been piled against the other cloth wall. She supposed by tent standards, it was very nice. There was certainly enough room.

But she didn’t care about any of that. Instead she sank onto the cot, then rolled onto her side and curled up in a ball. The unknown loomed like a circling vulture, ready to pick her bones clean.

She sniffed. Okay, that was a bit melodramatic, but she was scared. Down-to-the-core terrified.

Outside she heard the men talking. A while later, the tent flap opened and one of the cooks told her that dinner was ready.

“Thank you,” she said as she pushed up on her elbow. “I’m not hungry.”

He said something she didn’t understand and backed out of the tent. Seconds later Kateb stalked in.

“What is your problem?” he demanded.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Are you pouting? I will not tolerate an emotional tantrum. You will get up and come and eat.”

His obvious contempt drove her to her feet. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“You don’t get to judge me,” she snapped. “I’m having a really bad day, okay? I’m sorry if that reality upsets you, but you’re going to have to deal with it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. You think I’m trash. Worse than trash, because you don’t think of me at all. I’m just an…I don’t know what. But from my perspective, I just sold myself to you. I don’t know you from a rock and I don’t know what’s going to happen. I sold myself for a man who doesn’t deserve it and now I’m here with you in the desert. You said I have until we get to the village. What happens there? What are you going to do to me? Are you going to…r-rape me?”

Her voice started to shake and she could feel her eyes burning, but she refused to look away or back down.

Kateb sucked in a breath. “I am Prince Kateb of El Deharia. How dare you accuse me of such things?”

“It’s actually pretty damned easy. You won me in a card game and now you’re dragging me into the desert to be your mistress for six months. What am I supposed to think?” She glared at him. “Don’t you dare tell me not to be upset. I would think, under the circumstances, I get to be a little nervous.”

He grabbed her arm. “Stop.”

A single tear escaped. She wiped it away and was still.

“I will not hurt you,” he said quietly.

“How do I know that?”

Their eyes locked. She wanted to see something on his face, something yielding or gentle. There was only the darkness and the sharp edges of the scar. Kateb turned and left.

She stood alone in the center of her tent, not sure what to think. Exhaustion made her sit on the edge of the cot. Now what?

Before she could figure out what to do next, he returned carrying a plate along with a bottle of water and an odd-shaped black box. It was about the size of a small loaf of bread.

“You must eat,” Kateb told her, handing her the food. “You don’t want to get sick.”

The scent of meat and vegetables made her stomach growl, but she was too afraid to eat.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the box.

“A battery-pack converter.” He turned it so she could see the shorter side. When he lifted the flap, there was a plug, just like a regular outlet. “For your curling iron.” He set it on the floor of the tent.

She couldn’t believe it. “Really? I can curl my hair?”

“You seem to find that very essential.”

She was still afraid, but didn’t seem so desperate now. Her stomach growled again, and she thought maybe she could eat. Answers continued to elude her, but for now, that was all right.




Chapter Three


By day three, they had settled into a routine. One Victoria found easy to deal with as it mostly involved Kateb ignoring her. While he was in the camp and occasionally spoke to her, he’d had her ride in a different vehicle and acted as if she were just one of the guys. That allowed her to relax a little and ignore their destination.

The desert had a unique beauty, she thought when they stopped for lunch. She accepted a bowl of stew from the cook and smiled her thanks. The dry air meant good hair days, although she was dying for a shower. At this point she was desperate enough to be willing to give up her favorite leather jacket for fifteen minutes of warm water and a bar of soap.

She sat in her usual place, at the back of the camp. This time there weren’t cliffs behind them, but more of the trucks. While no one walked around with a rifle, she knew that the men were always aware of the surroundings. Kateb more so than any.

He watched the sky, scanned the horizon. She suspected he would be able to tell her if there was a rabbit or fox within five miles. Or something more dangerous.

She liked how he was with the other men. He commanded their respect without being pushy about it. They looked to him because he was naturally their leader.

Her gaze returned to the scar. What had happened to him? She wanted to ask, but they weren’t speaking that much and it didn’t seem like a good conversation starter. There was a sort of truce between them she didn’t want to disrupt. Last night he’d brought her a lantern, so she could read if she wished. Not exactly the actions of a savage madman.

So maybe the mistress thing wouldn’t be too horrible. He was intelligent and strong. He joked with the other men. She liked the sound of his laugh, not that he ever laughed with her.

When she finished her lunch, she carried the bowl over to the wash bucket and cleaned it. When she straightened, Kateb stood next to her.

She jumped. “Why do you have to be stealthy?”

“We are close to the village. It’s less than twenty miles by horseback, although nearly fifty in the truck. The trucks require a road. I will be riding the rest of the way. Would you care to join me?”

“Sure. Thanks. Give me ten minutes to change my clothes.” She glanced around. Tents weren’t put up in the middle of the day, which meant privacy was an issue. Maybe she could climb in the back of one of the trucks.

“Why do you need to change your clothes? You’re even wearing sensible boots.”

She glanced down at her authentic cowboy boots. “I know. They’re so cool. I got them on sale. But I have a riding outfit.”

“Do you have different clothes for every event?”

“Of course. It’s a girl thing. Although I was challenged by the whole ‘you’ll be my mistress.’ That was a stumper. They don’t cover it much in the fashion magazines. I think they’re missing a real market.”

He was much taller than she and had to look down to meet her gaze. “You hide your emotions behind humor,” he said.

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. “Well, duh.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. An actual twitch, which was nearly a smile. She wasn’t sure why making him smile or laugh would make her feel better, but she believed that all the way down to her toes.

“What you are wearing is fine,” he told her.

“But the outfit is really cool.”

“You can show me later.”

“You just don’t want to wait while I dig through all my luggage.”

“There is that, as well. Be ready in five minutes.”

“There aren’t any horses.”

“There will be.”

Kateb walked away. Victoria watched him go, not sure what to make of him. On the one hand, he’d taken her for his mistress for six months and that couldn’t be good. On the other hand, he’d given her electricity for her curling iron and taken care of her, albeit from a distance. Which meant this was the strangest semi-relationship she’d ever had in her life.



Four minutes and thirty seconds later, a man rode up leading two horses. Kateb spoke with him, then brought the horses to her.

“How well do you ride?” he asked.

“Isn’t it a little late to be worrying about that?”

He looked at her.

So much for the lip twitch. “I do okay. I’m not an expert, but I’ve been riding every couple of days for nearly two years.”

One of the men walked over and laced his fingers together to form a step. Victoria glanced back at the trucks holding all her things, including her purse. Was she just going to ride away and leave them all behind? Did she have a choice?

She stepped in the man’s hand, pushed off the ground, then swung into the saddle. After three days of driving, it felt good to be on a horse, out in the fresh air. Kateb got on his horse and moved the animal next to hers.

“We’ll be heading northeast.”

“Do I look like I know what direction that is?”

He pointed out into the wilderness, toward rolling hills dotted with low shrubs and grasses growing out of the sand. Like that would help.

He urged his horse forward. Hers moved into step without her doing anything, which meant it was probably going to be an easy ride. Her favorite kind.

“If you try to escape, I won’t look for you,” he told her. “You’ll wander for days before dying of thirst.”

“Oh, please,” she said, before she could remember he was royalty and sometimes it was better not to say everything she was thinking. “That’s so much crap.”

He didn’t bother looking at her. “You think so?”

“You’re not going to leave me out here to die.”

“Do you want to test your certainty?”

“Probably not.”

He smiled then. A real lip-moving kind of smile. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his expression relaxed. His face was transformed from unreadable and stern to approachable and handsome.

Somewhere deep inside, her stomach tightened, but this time it had nothing to do with fear or apprehension and everything to do with the man. She felt a little tingly and light-headed. Those reactions were quickly followed by a different kind of panic.

No, no, no, she told herself. There was no way she could be attracted to Kateb. None at all. Talk about the danger zone. She knew better than to give her heart to a man. That road led only to ruin. And falling for a sheik who was going to toss her aside in six months was a whole new level of stupid.

She drew in a breath. She had to get a grip. Finding Kateb attractive didn’t mean anything. It was biology. Okay—there’d been a tingle, but a tingle was a long way from love. She was completely safe. All it meant was that when he finally wanted her in his bed, the experience might not be icky. That was a good thing.

“What?” Kateb demanded. “Are you sick?”

“No. Why?”

“You look odd.”

Which was probably prince-speak for “you have a strange look on your face.” At least that was her assumption. Not that she was going to answer the implied question of “what were you thinking?”

Diversion seemed like a good idea. “How long have you lived in the desert?”

“Since I graduated from university.”

“Why the desert?”

“When I was ten, my brothers and I spent the summer in the desert. It is a traditional for the king’s sons to learn the ways of the nomads. I had always found the palace and rules constricting. For me, being in the desert was like coming home. I came back every summer, living with different tribes. One year I lived in the village and knew that was to be my home.”

“You didn’t want to spend all your time visiting Paris and dating supermodels?”

“I have been to Paris. It is a beautiful city. Just not for me.”

“And the supermodels?”

He didn’t bother answering.

The sun was hot, but not oppressive. Victoria adjusted her hat and was grateful she’d used her five minutes to slather on sunscreen.

“What do you do in the village? I can’t see you selling used camels.”

“I am working with the elders and business owners to develop a more stable financial infrastructure. There is plenty of capital flowing through the area, but no one is capturing it and using it effectively.”

“Let me guess,” she said. “You have a degree in finance.”

“Yes.”

“It shows.”

He changed tactics. “How did you come to work for Nadim?”

“He was in Dallas for several weeks. His assistant had a medical emergency and had to fly back to El Deharia. I’d worked with his assistant and apparently got a good review. Nadim asked that I be assigned to him and when he went back, he offered me a job.”

“Was it love at first sight for you?”

While there wasn’t exactly a sneer in the question, there was definite tone.

“I never claimed to love him,” she said primly.

“Does that make it better or worse?”

“I did my job well. Nadim had no complaints about my performance. As to the rest, arranged marriages are still a tradition in this part of the world. I was just trying to arrange my own.”

“So you could be rich.”

He still didn’t get it.

“It’s not about money.”

“So you have said.” He sounded as if he didn’t believe her.

She looked out over the desert. She couldn’t see anything resembling a village, but she wished they would get there quickly. Suddenly riding with Kateb wasn’t that much fun anymore.

Annoyance bubbled inside of her until it spilled out. “You haven’t got a clue,” she told him. “You can’t know. You grew up a prince, in privilege. You never worried about having enough to eat. You don’t know what it’s like to see your mom crying because there’s no food for dinner because your dad took all the money. He would do that—come in and take every cent she had. Sometimes he would sell stuff, like our TV. One time he sold her car and she had to walk to work for nearly a year while she saved enough to get a down payment for a new one.”

Victoria drew in a breath. “I was poor. Dirt poor. My clothes came from the church ladies who brought them by. While I appreciate their intentions, it was humiliating to be given clothes their daughters had already worn at school. To have to walk into class the next day and listen to the laughter and whispers. You’ve never had to stand in a different line at lunch because your food was paid for by the state and everyone knew. You don’t understand what it’s like to be a charity case.”

She hadn’t been paying attention so she hadn’t noticed how big the past had grown until it overwhelmed her. The need to get away made her kick her horse, then lean forward in the saddle as the gelding raced toward the horizon.

Kateb watched her go. She was riding in the correct direction so he didn’t worry about her getting lost. If she gave her horse his head, he would find his way back to the stable.

Victoria moved well in the saddle, although her shoulders were slumped forward, as if weighed down by a heavy burden.

Did she speak the truth? He didn’t know her well enough to trust her word, but the shame in her eyes had been real, as had the pain in her voice. If she had grown up as poor as she said, perhaps he could understand why security was so important to her. It also explained her obsession with clothes and finding things on sale.

She rode up to the slight rise, then reined in her horse. He joined her.

“Is that the village?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes.”

“You have to work on your definitions.”



Victoria had imagined a few tents, a primitive barn, maybe a lean-to. What she saw instead was a thriving rural city, with streets and houses and barns and fields.

“They farm?” she asked.

“Yes. There are several underground rivers that provide irrigation. In the desert, water is life.”

She couldn’t take it all in. “How many people live here?”

“Several thousand.”

“Hardly a village.”

“It has grown.”

The fields were outside the structures, stretching out along the edges of the valley and up the hills in terraces. There were several open-air markets, a larger building that could have been a church or a school. A road wound down into the valley. She could see the trucks slowly moving toward the village. At the far end of the valley, up against the cliffs, a stone structure seemed to dominate the landscape.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing toward it.

“The Winter Palace.”

“Palace for whom?”

“In ancient times, the King of El Deharia would spend a few months here each year. When that stopped, the elders’ council established a leader for the people. He is nominated and serves a twenty-five-year term.”

She remembered hearing about that. Kateb was supposed to be on the short list for that job. “Twenty-five years is a long time. They don’t want to make a mistake.”

“If they do, there are ways to unseat him.”

“And it always has to be a man, right?”

He flashed that killer smile again. “Of course. We are progressive, but we do not yet support the idea of a woman ruling.”

“That is just so typical,” she muttered. “So the leader gets the palace and all that goes with it?”

“Yes. The previous leader, Bahjat, died a few months ago, causing the new search. He graciously allowed me rooms in the palace when I was in residence.”

“Because you’re the king’s son.”

“Partially. We were close. He was like a grandfather to me.”

“Then you must miss him.”

Kateb nodded and started down the side of the mountain.

The trail was easier than it looked. Victoria hung on, letting her horse pick his way. She would guess he was a lot more sure-footed than she would be.

It took nearly an hour to make their way to the valley. They rode past fields and farmhouses, then moved onto a dirt path beside a paved road. She couldn’t believe how big the so-called village was and how many people lived here. There was an interesting combination of old and new. Wa-termills nestled next to generators.

The houses were mostly stone, with big windows and thick walls. Porches provided shade. Nearly every home had a garden and pipes bringing in water.

People waved at Kateb and called out greetings. He waved back. She felt the stares and didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

The relative calm of the journey faded as they approached the end of the trip. Kateb had given her a brief reprieve and it was nearly over. What was going to happen next?

“Will I be at the palace?” she asked. “Or somewhere else?”

“You will have quarters at the palace. They are separate from mine.”

Okay—that was good. She could use her own space.

“Is there a shower?”

He glanced at her. Amusement brightened his eyes. “One that will satisfy even you.”

How nice. But what happened after the shower? What happened that night?

“You will find electricity and many other modern improvements,” he said.

She did her best to ignore the chill brought on by fear. One step at a time, she told herself. They would get to the palace and then she could deal with the rest of her life. For now she should just enjoy the ride.

But the ride was going to be too short, she thought, feeling the first wisps of panic curling through her.

She did her best to distract herself by studying the open-air market they passed. There were plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables for sale, along with a display of the woven gold she liked so much. Later she would come back to shop. That would make her happy. Shopping was—

They turned a corner and the Winter Palace loomed before them.

From what she could see, the palace was made up of several buildings, with the central one being the largest. It was stone, with rising towers and a formidable stone wall surrounding the grounds. The roof was tile and seemed to have an iridescent quality that glimmered in the bright sun. There was a real drawbridge in the center of the stone wall, along with several permanent bridges to the right and left. People walked back and forth through the opening.

“How will the trucks get in?” she asked.

“The road goes around back. There are garages and a delivery entrance.”

Once they rode over the drawbridge, more people called to Kateb. They greeted him warmly, welcoming him back. Although they glanced at her, no one asked why she was here. Victoria didn’t want to know what they were thinking. As there had been no talk of Kateb taking a new bride, they would probably guess the reason for her presence. That she was here to service the prince. It was like standing in the free-lunch line in elementary school all over again.

Kateb reined in his horse and dismounted. She had a wild urge to bolt for freedom, only to remind herself she had no idea which way to go. And as much as she was frightened of that night, it was better than a slow, dry death in the desert.

She got off her horse. It took a second for her legs to remember what it was like to walk rather than ride, then she followed Kateb into the palace.

The entryway soared up several stories. The stone walls were smooth, the windows stained glass. Sunlight created colors on the floor and people passing through the entry. Large tapestries told the history of the desert.

Victoria wanted to move closer and study them. She’d found El Deharian history fascinating and was sure it would be just as interesting to study this place.

“Is there a library?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Can I use it?”

“Of course. Come this way.”

She followed Kateb down several long corridors. While there were still people everywhere, she ignored them as she took in the paintings and statues that dotted the palace. There were treasures everywhere she looked. Marble and gold. A portrait that looked eerily like a da Vinci. Not that she was much of an art expert. But wouldn’t it be fun to search for the signature?

She was so caught up in the beauty of the palace that she nearly forgot why she was here. It wasn’t until Kateb stopped in front of a single carved door that she remembered to be afraid.

“You will be staying here,” he said as he pulled open the door. “I trust you will find your quarters comfortable.”

It wasn’t a question, she thought, her heart pounding hard and fast.

Beautiful rugs in a rainbow of colors muffled the sounds of their steps. She had a brief impression of oval couches and overstuffed chairs, inlaid tables and hanging lanterns.

There were many rooms, all flowing from one to the other. Everything about the space spoke of time and past lives, as if they were in the oldest part of the palace.

Kateb kept walking until they reached a walled garden. Lush plants grew everywhere. Jasmine scented the air. She saw a flash of movement as a parrot flew by.

Victoria turned in a slow circle. Her brain resisted the information but it was hard to ignore. Many rooms. Walled gardens. Parrots.

The rooms would be required for all the residents who had once lived here. The walled gardens kept the women in and the men out. And the parrots concealed the sounds of their voices, for no one else could hear their words or their laughter. It was forbidden.

She stopped in front of Kateb, put her hands on her hips and wished she had something to throw at him.

“You brought me to the harem?”

“It seemed appropriate,” he said, with the hint of a smile, then left.




Chapter Four


Victoria stared at the closed door of the harem, wondering if she’d heard the click of a lock, or if that was just her imagination at work. And did she really want to find out which? She supposed the good news was he hadn’t taken her to his own suite, which meant she would have plenty of privacy and space. A good thing, she thought, trying to find the silver lining in what might be a very dark cloud.

She turned so she could study the huge space. Dozens of rooms all flowed into each other. There were amazing tapestries on the walls and beautiful, handmade wooden tables. She crossed to one and touched the inlaid wood. Master craftsmen, she thought. How many months had it taken for just this one piece?

Had anyone bothered to document the furniture or artwork? If not, it should be done. A history preserved. Maybe, if the library had research books that could help, she could start. Assuming she wasn’t locked in here like a prisoner.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she murmured, as she crossed the stone floor. But before she reached the carved door, she heard footsteps.

She turned and saw a tall, older woman walking toward her. She was dressed in a flowing long dress that looked both cool and comfortable. Her gray hair had been piled on her head. Gold earrings dangled and there were dozens of bracelets on both wrists.

“You must be Victoria,” she said with a smile. “I was told you were coming. Welcome to the Winter Palace. I am Yusra.”

“Thank you.”

“We are all excited that the harem is back in use. It has been too many months of silence in these walls.”

That made Victoria take a step back. “You think trapping women inside these walls is a good thing?”

“Of course. The old ways must be preserved. Just because something is old doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value.”

“I agree with that, but I’m missing the positive side of being locked up against one’s will for the sole purpose of pleasing a man. How is that helpful to the women?”

Yusra frowned. “To be in the leader’s harem is to be given a privileged life. If one was fortunate enough to bear him children, then that woman would live here forever. Even if the leader got tired of her.”

“Not a great argument. Why does he get to say when he’s tired? Why not her? What if she doesn’t want to stay here? What if she wants to go out in the village and have a real husband and family?”

“Then she would go.”

“Just like that?”

“Of course. There is no lock on the outside of the door, Victoria. Only one on the inside, to keep out those who don’t belong. No woman has ever been kept in the Winter Palace against her will.”

Until now, Victoria thought grimly. Although she wasn’t here against her will. Not exactly. She’d offered herself in exchange for her father. She’d begged Kateb to take her instead.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m tired and everything is new and confusing. I wasn’t expecting…this.”

Yusra smiled again. “The harem is a beautiful place. You will find it such. There are many wonders, many things to explore. Come. I will show you.”

Victoria followed her down a hallway to several sleeping rooms. There were big beds with gauzy curtains and windows that opened out onto the gardens. Beautiful ceiling fans stirred the air and handmade rugs added color to the floor.

“I took the liberty of choosing this room for you,” Yusra said, entering a large space with French doors that led directly into the garden. “If you don’t like it, you may choose another.”

“This is very nice,” Victoria said, trying not to notice the very big bed—one plenty large enough for two…or even six. Kateb was unlikely to come to the harem. While she was here, she was safe. It was only when he called for her that she had to worry. At least that’s what she told herself as she felt nervous tension tightening her throat.

“Your things are here.” Yusra motioned to the suitcases along the far wall. “Will you need assistance unpacking?”

“No, thanks. I can do it.” After all, she’d managed to pack and unpack for herself for years now.

“I have also provided you with more traditional clothing.”

Traditional as in what?

Victoria followed her into a dressing area with a large closet and several sets of drawers. Long, flowing dresses hung in the closet. She touched one of the patterned sleeves and discovered the material was silk and decorated with impossibly small stitches. Each dress was more beautiful than the next, with swirls of color and fluttering sleeves. It was only when she removed one from the hanger and held it in front of her that she realized the fabric was completely sheer.

Her thighs started to tremble. “So, um, what do I wear under something like this?”

Yusra’s smile turned wicked. “Nothing at all.” She laughed. “You will enjoy these. I did in my day. The beading and patterns are designed to provide a little modesty for the woman and some mystery for the man. The fabric caresses the skin, reminds her of her lover’s touch. You’ll see.”

Too much information, Victoria thought as she quickly returned the dress to the closet. She wasn’t sure why she was the one blushing, but she felt definite heat on her cheeks.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/suzen-melleri/the-sheikh-and-the-bought-bride/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.