Alveus (ABC's Inc. Romance #1) (9 page)

“Ah,
my beautiful gem,” he said, reaching out to caress Lexi’s cheek. He ran his
fingers through her hair and slid the peignoir off her shoulder. His hands were
gentle, as were the lips he brushed across her bare shoulder. Ahmad’s tongue
came out to lick the spot, quickly followed with a painful bite as he sunk his
teeth into her skin. Lexi drew away.

“No,
my dear, you do not pull away from me,” he said gruffly.

“Surely
even you can understand basic instinct,” she replied. “Only a masochist or a
madman eases closer to pain… I am neither.”

“I
gave you no permission to speak,” he said. Grabbing her roughly by the
shoulders, he leaned toward her face. “You will learn to enjoy my touch,” he
growled, taking another bite, this time at her cheek.

Lexi
pushed him away and slapped his face. “And you would do to learn a little
respect!” She placed her hand protectively over her cheek. He’d broken through
the skin, again! Good God, was he some kind of a cannibal? Bracing herself for
his expected retaliation, she was thrown off balance when he laughed and began
to disrobe. Taking advantage of her newfound boldness, Lexi turned her back to
the prince and headed for the exit. He didn’t try to stop her – there was no
need. When she opened the door, a guard blocked the way out.

“Close
the door,” Prince Ahmad demanded. Lexi made an about-face and felt the door
being yanked from her hand as the guard complied with the prince’s order. “Now,
remove your clothing… slowly, and stretch out on the bed.”

Her
legs stubbornly immovable, Lexi drew the lacy robe tighter across the front of
her body. Watching her expectantly, Ahmad paced the floor with a bemused smile
on his face. It was obvious that he enjoyed the challenge she involuntarily put
forth. They were at a standoff; and as she watched him strut his naked body before
her, an effervescence of absurdity bubbled its way slowly to the surface. He
resembled a peacock attempting to impress a mate, his erect manhood bobbing
with each arrogant step. Hysteria took over and Lexi began to laugh.

A
sharp slap across the face usually works to put an end to hysteria, but it
seemed to have the opposite effect on Lexi. Tears of hilarity began to stream
down her face as she bent over to clasp her aching belly. One could not expect
the spoiled, pampered, crown prince to ignore such a blow to his self-esteem,
and so one slap turned into several strikes to Lexi’s body. The laughing worked
like nitrous oxide, numbing the pain, and she couldn’t stop it now if she
tried. Finally, a particularly hard blow from the prince knocked her off of her
feet. Stumbling backward, her head hit the solid edge of a table, rendering her
unconscious.

 

Lexi
woke to a throbbing headache and a burning desire to know where she was, and importantly,
how she had gotten there. Her brain was painfully slow to oblige, forcing her to
pry her eyes open in order to solve the mystery. The light, although dim, evoked
an involuntary groan. With a rustle, an elderly woman pushed herself up from a
chair in the corner and approached her. She reached into a basin sitting on the
table next to the bed and removed a dripping cloth. Wringing out the excess water,
she gently placed the cool rag on Lexi’s head.

“Thank
you,” Lexi murmured. It felt good. She brought a hand up to press it tighter
against her aching forehead. The old woman nodded and with soothing sounds,
tilted Lexi’s head toward the glass of water she held for her. Making sure she
drank several sips, the woman helped her to ease her head back onto the pillow
and then left the room.

The
small room was sparsely furnished with a chair, a table, a bureau, and the bed.
Aside from the door the old woman exited, there was another narrow door,
probably leading to a tiny closet, and one small window covered with heavy
draping. With nothing of interest to see, Lexi closed her eyes and pulled the
cool rag down over them. Her memories began to surface and she realized that
she’d dodged one bullet, only to be impaled by another. Is that what her future
held in store – choosing which pain she would rather endure?

Lexi’s
parents had brought her up believing that she was someone special. They
emphasized that the most important gift a person could give to another was to
give themselves – body and soul. It was a gift that could not be taken by
force, it must be given freely. Alex and Alicia Alberton practiced what they
preached. They were the embodiment of true love. Lexi worried that once that
gift was stolen, love would be out of her reach forever. Her thoughts were
interrupted by the sound of the door opening to Princess Fatiha.

“I
have brought you some pain medication,” she said, tucking a small folded cloth
under Lexi’s pillow. “You must keep them hidden; my brother wishes you to
suffer. I did try to warn you.” Sitting on the side of the bed, she placed a
pill on Lexi’s tongue and held out the glass.

“Thank
you,” Lexi said, after swallowing the medication. “Won’t you get into trouble by
helping me?”

“Do
not worry, I am quite a spoiled princess,” she laughed. “That does not mean I agree
on how my father and brothers treat their women. I like that you do not lower
your eyes or bow your head when they are in the room. You are strong and
beautiful.” Fatiha stroked Lexi’s hair, and then the cheek her brother had
bitten. “I will bring something to heal this on my next visit.” She stood up to
leave.

“Wait,”
Lexi said, “where am I? Do you know what is expected of me, now?”

“You
are in your room,” the princess replied. “It is not locked. When you are well
enough, you may go into the common room to gossip with my father’s concubines.
There are guards that keep unwanted visitors out of the women’s wing and will
remind you not to wander unescorted into the royal areas of the palace. Mostly
they are here for your protection. The women are free to wander the grounds and
have their own pool. You will be well taken care of. My brother will not call
for you until your wounds are healed. He does not like to see the results of
his anger.”

“And
the old woman that was in my room – who is she?”

“That
is Salma,” Fatiha explained, “she takes care of the women. They think of her as
a mother, although be aware that she reports everything to my father’s first
wife. I must go now. I will return with the medication for your face.”

 

Lexi
slept a good bit the next two days. True to her word, young Fatiha applied
medication to her bite marks and they began healing. Salma kept a watchful eye
over her, making sure she was drinking plenty of water and the broth she
brought. By the third day, Lexi was becoming restless. The view out her window
shared little more than a landscape of sand, and although her body was still
bruised and stiff, Lexi determined to see what lay beyond the four walls of her
room. She found a pair of jeans (slightly big) and a short sleeved cotton shirt
in the closet. After painfully pulling them on, she opened the door and
ventured out.

Lexi
knew that the room opposite hers was the bathroom she’d been introduced to
early on, so she followed her ears down a long hallway, honing in on the casual
rhythm of female voices. She passed a few open doorways affording her glimpses
into bedroom suites with feminine décor. Her stomach growled at the enticing
scent of food cooking – how long had it been since she’d eaten an actual meal?
Continuing on, she could see that the hall ended with two open rooms, left and
right. A girl crossed from the right and upon spotting Lexi turned back to
announce her presence. Within nanoseconds the hall was filled with a half a
dozen women of diverse age. One thing they all had in common – each had a
unique beauty.

Rooted
to the spot, Lexi’s hand rose up to cover her injured cheek self-consciously. She
waited, uncertain what to do, while the women discussed her presence among
themselves. So, this was the Sheikh’s harem. He certainly likes variety. Yes, a
couple of the ladies looked to be of middle-eastern descent, but there were
also two blondes, a girl with pale skin, freckles, and light brown hair and a
dark-skinned African. The eldest looked to be in her mid-thirties, and the
youngest appeared barely into her teens. Their clothing was casual, shorts,
yoga pants and jeans with light cotton tops. They all seemed content enough.

A
commanding voice barked out some orders in Arabic and the girls opened ranks to
allow Salma to come through. She took Lexi by the hand and drew her into the
room on the left, patting her reassuringly. She continued to chatter in her
native tongue as she gestured for Lexi to sit at the large table. The rest of
the women filled the chairs around her.

“UK?”
A tall leggy blonde asked.

“American,”
Lexi replied.

“Oh,
it’s just that your coloring…”

“My
mother’s family was Irish,” she shared. “Aussie?”

The
blonde nodded, “Yes, I’m Clare. You’re our first American. I’m surprised; Sheikh
Saleh
has never been fond of your countrymen.
” She shrugged her
shoulders. “I guess his nasty little son is. Cadie over there,” she pointed to
the girl of African descent, “is French Canadian. Ginny is Welch,” she gestured
to the brown headed girl, “Anna, the other blonde, is from Denmark, and Mickey
and Minnie over there are from Turkey.” The two women glared at my informant.
“They hate their nicknames, but nobody can pronounce their real names to their
satisfaction.” She stuck her tongue out at them.

Salma
brought in a steaming plate, filled with meat, rice and green vegetables, and
plunked it down in front of her. She spouted out a string of Arabic, causing
the girls to jump from their seats and fetch their own plates.

“Oh,
I could have…” Lexi felt bad that she was being treated different from the
others. Salma patted her shoulder and gestured for her to eat. Soft reassuring
words accompanied her touch.

“She
said not to worry, you may help when you are well enough,” Clare said, sliding
back into the seat next to hers. “She knows what a bastard Ahmad is. Every girl
he’s ‘borrowed’ from his father has had to recover from their time spent with
him. Never known him to bite their face before, though, or knock them out,
either. I sure don’t envy you.” Lexi’s new friend turned her attention to her
food and she followed her lead. It probably wouldn’t be prudent to explain how
she’d encourage his temper by her reaction to the prince’s nude overtures.

 

A
couple of days later, Lexi was lounging by the pool with the other girls when
she heard the sound of horses approaching. She wasn’t the only one alerted, the
women became excited and flustered as the horsemen drew close. Lexi set aside
the magazine she was browsing to watch the women with amused curiosity. It was
obvious they knew who the riders were, and they were frantically checking out
their reflections in the large patio windows – straightening their clothing and
fluffing up hair. Even Clare, putting out an air of indifference, straightened
her shoulders in an attempt to show off her assets to their best advantage.
Seriously?
Lexi felt a tug of sadness toward the women, as the identity of the visitors
became clear to her, as well – Sheikh
Saleh and
Prince
Ahmad.

Surprisingly
amiable, and wearing the first genuine smile Lexi had ever seen on his face,
the sheikh fawned over the girls like a child with a fresh litter of kittens. They
reciprocated in kind, eagerly surrounding him – except for Clare. She dutifully
remained seated on the lounge next to Lexi’s.

“Go,”
Lexi whispered to her friend. Her protective presence only served to draw more
unwanted attention toward her. She picked up the abandoned magazine and focused
on an article about a well-known rock star.

“I
don’t trust that little bastard prince,” Clare replied.

“I’m
sure he’s not a bastard, else the sheikh would not have made him the heir to
the throne,” Lexi retorted.  Her friend conceded with a laugh.

“Clare,
my beauty,” Sheikh Saleh called, “come, I’ve brought you a trinket. In honor of
the new addition to your community, I’ve gotten all of my beautiful flowers a
special gift.”  He spoke in his mother tongue, but Lexi understood the words.
She’d picked up a lot of the language while listening to the women’s chatter.

Clare
eased from her chair and patted Lexi reassuringly on the arm, before strolling
seductively toward the sheikh. “Just waiting my turn,
Your Excellency
,”
she cooed, turning the title into a double-entendre.

More
like
sugar daddy
Lexi thought, as she watched Saleh stroke her friend
intimately before placing a glittering bracelet around her ankle. Straightening
up, he kissed her neck affectionately, whispering into her ear. “Gag me,” Lexi
murmured, feeling the truth to her statement as her stomach churned to acid.

Deciding
it best to turn her mind elsewhere, Lexi thumbed through the month-old magazine
on her lap. Bingo – an article immediately grabbed her attention with its
headline.
Dane Wellesley announces his engagement as he angrily drags his
fiancée away from admirer.
The picture accompanying the piece showed Dane’s
angry face looking over his shoulder, as he pushed her along in front of him.
Lexi’s back was to the camera so the journalist went into speculation as to her
true identity, calling her the mystery woman. A rather extensive list of female
names were listed, and dissected to get to the answer. Lexi had been trying not
to think about Dane, succeeding admirably – until now. Her stomach made its
presence known again, this time twisting painfully. No! She was about to rise
from her chair to go in and see if Salma needed help with food preparation,
when Clare returned. She dropped onto the patio lounger next to Lexi with a
smug look on her face.

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