Claimed by the Sheikh (4 page)

Everything had changed so much and he was to blame. He was the only heir to the throne and his father was sick. For the sake of his country he didn't have time to end one marriage and make another. He needed to be seen with his wife—the woman his people had witnessed him marry, the one they'd welcomed warmly. To annul the marriage now would make his people doubt him. If he couldn't hold together a marriage, how could he rule a country?

‘People may not believe your claim if your
profession
is discovered. Do you really want that scandal exposed? Your father's people, as well as mine, would turn their backs on you.' He let the words sink in, watched as her lovely eyes widened in shock. ‘The only thing that can save your reputation now is me.'

‘You're despicable,' she whispered, every syllable full of contempt. With barely contained fury in every step, she walked a few paces to another door, opened it and peered into the near darkness.

As she slipped into the darkened room he remembered the child and irrational anger consumed him once more. Why was she living here, sharing a cramped flat with a single mother who worked as a stripper? Was she trying to blacken her reputation beyond redemption?

Kazim stood and composed himself, steeling himself against the irrational anger that raged inside. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, willing control to return.

Moments later, composure seeped through him and, unable to help himself, he pushed the door open a little wider to reveal Amber tucking a young boy into a tiny bed. The child murmured in his sleep and she ruffled his blond hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. From the little he knew of children, he guessed the boy to be around two.

When Amber looked up her eyes met Kazim's and something akin to embarrassment briefly washed over him at having witnessed the tender moment. He'd intruded. The shock on her face told him that, but he wasn't going to let her off so lightly. He stood and looked back at her, his stomach turning against the thought of what could have been if he'd succumbed to his desire, if they'd had a child as a result of their wedding night. He didn't want to be a father, to expose a child to the same upset he'd known, but his position in life meant fatherhood was an obligation. He had to have a child—an heir to Barazbin.

In the dim light of the room he couldn't see her expression clearly. ‘If you don't mind...' Amber whispered so softly he almost missed the words.

In silent agreement he stepped back a pace. The child's bedroom was not the place for such discussions so he left, pulling the door closed again, and walked back to the depressing and claustrophobic kitchen, all sorts of questions racing through his mind.

Moments later, she stood in the doorway, hands on hips, her body poised as if ready for battle. ‘Give me one good reason why I should care what your people say of me, why I should care if my reputation is ruined, as you so nicely put it?' Fighting spirit resounded in her voice but he refused to rise to the bait.

‘Your family.'

* * *

Pain lanced through Amber as she looked at Kazim's questioning face. ‘I haven't seen my family since the day after we got married.'

The day you rejected me as if I were an unwanted parcel.

When her father had sent her away she'd begged her mother to help her, but her mother, committed to the ways of the desert, had turned her back on her, just as she had the Western world from which she'd come. To Amber's mother, arranged marriages were now normal and acceptable. It was as if she was trying to erase her English ancestry and, along with it, the scrapes her daughter, Amber, had got into at boarding school.

Lost in thought, Kazim's next words hurtled her back to reality, dragging her back from the hurt of her parents' rejection and disappointment.

‘So you turned your back on your family as well as your heritage, to come to Paris and work in a club.' He folded his arms across his chest, his dark eyes glaring accusingly at her, and she thought he was going to taunt her again, almost force her to admit to being a stripper instead of a waitress.

Did he really think she'd willingly left everyone behind?

She deflected the hurt, just as she had done on their wedding day, allowing all that pain to turn to anger. If he wanted to think badly of her then it could only help her cause to be free. He might be the man she'd loved from first sight, the man she'd dreamed of raising a family with, but he was also the man who would never love her. It was time she accepted that and moved on.

‘Where I work and what I do there is irrelevant,' she snapped at him, wishing she'd never let him into the flat. But this needed finishing; she needed to be free of him. ‘What is important is that here, with the two people who mean more to me than anyone else, I am needed and wanted.'

The only other person who'd ever made her feel needed and wanted was her grandmother, and Amber had missed her terribly since she'd passed away. So, since Annie and little Claude had stumbled into her life, Amber was happy for the first time in many years. They more than made up for the fact that the only job she could get without proof of identity was in the club.

‘You are needed in Barazbin.' Like an arrow, his reply shot across the room, the words wounding deeply.

‘Needed, maybe,' she said in a soft teasing voice, her head to one side as she shrugged her shoulders, trying hard to appear indifferent. ‘But not wanted, Kazim. Not by you.'

‘My father is ill,' he said, his face paling and his eyes becoming haunted. For a moment she felt his pain, wanted to reach out to him, but she couldn't. To show such weakness would be fatal. ‘It is my duty to secure the future of Barazbin.'

‘That still doesn't have to include me, not when we haven't seen each other since our wedding day. You even admitted my reputation would be brought into question. Your duty doesn't have to include me.' She clung to the hope that he would see she was far from suitable to be his princess, especially now. But his decisive stance warned her that such hope was futile.

‘You are my wife.' He stepped towards her, the words coming out slowly and firmly, the air around her becoming thick and heavy as he towered over her, making breathing normally difficult. ‘And you will come back with me.'

Amber sighed. When was he going to get it? To understand he couldn't just dismiss her from his life then drag her back into it when it suited him? ‘That little boy needs me.' She pointed towards the bedroom door where Claude lay sleeping.

‘And why is it so important that you are here, when you are not his mother?' He sounded angry now, as if his patience had slipped away to nothing. ‘If I didn't know better, I would question exactly whose child it is.'

How could he even think such a thing? She had never been intimate with a man. All she'd done was heed her mother's warning of Kazim's reputation with women and had tried to be something she wasn't. A seductress. The disgust she'd seen on Kazim's face plagued her still.

Amber groaned heavily, tired of talking in circles, and repeated herself. ‘I'm staying here, Kazim, where I'm needed and wanted.'

‘Why?' Suspicion laced the word and she knew he wouldn't give up until he knew the truth.

‘Claude needs an operation. A life-changing operation, one that will mean he can walk and grow up as normally as possible.' As much as she tried, she couldn't keep the passion from her voice. Meeting Claude and Annie had been life-saving for her and she wanted to give something back to the two people in the world who'd stood by her when nobody else had. If they hadn't come into her life when they did, she would have been homeless.

He stood tall and firm, his handsome face furrowed into a frown as he digested the information. ‘That is no excuse at all. Why do you have to stay?'

‘Have you no idea of real life, Kazim?' Now she was angry. ‘Annie is a single mother. One who works hard to provide for her son, and yes, she works as a dancer in the club. Do you know why? Because Claude needs to go to America as soon as possible for operations that will cost more than Annie can ever dream of earning in a regular job.'

‘So why are you involved?' he snapped angrily. ‘What about her family? The child's father?'

Amber remembered the day Annie had told her that she and Claude were alone in the world. All of Amber's own pain and misery at Kazim and her parents' rejection paled into nothing. Helping Annie had become her focus in life.

‘They disowned her.' She stood fiercely, looking into his eyes. ‘And I know exactly what that feels like.'

‘Your family disowned you?' Shock resonated in his deep voice and he came closer to her—too close.

‘After you sent me away, yes, I was disgraced in my family's eyes, forced to leave Quarazmir to avoid the scandal. I was disowned. Just as Annie was.' It was that one connection that had created a very strong bond between the two of them. ‘Because of that, I intend to do all I can to help her.'

Amber watched as Kazim took a deep breath in through his nose and could see the anger bubbling inside him. His lips pressed together in a firm line as he exhaled and she felt a dart of satisfaction rush through her. Finally, he was realising the implications of what he'd done.

A key turning in the front door drew their attention and he looked at her in question. Seconds later, Annie breezed in, her usual buoyant self. ‘Oh, what a night,' she whispered then stopped as she saw Kazim, her eyes wide with shock.

‘Annie, this is Kazim. I was just telling him about Claude.' Amber saw the usual sadness wash over her friend's face and hated that she'd had to mention it.

‘I'll just go and check on him and leave you to it. If you want me to, that is.' Annie looked from Kazim to Amber, a worried expression on her face.

Amber's heart warmed at the genuine concern her friend was showing. It seemed that Kazim didn't completely intimidate her and that, if need be, she'd stand by her friend.

‘I'm fine, thanks, Annie,' she whispered and gave her a reassuring smile, all the while feeling Kazim's eyes on her.

‘If you need anything, though,' Annie said softly before she slipped into Claude's room and they were alone again.

Amber felt drained, too tired to deal with Kazim, too tired to talk any more about something she had no intention of doing. ‘You need to go now.'

‘Not until I have your word that you will come back to Barazbin with me.'

She shook her head slowly, drawing on new reserves of determination. ‘No, Kazim, I can't; this is where I belong.'

Amber opened the front door of the flat and stood back, her chin held high, waiting for Kazim to leave. She had nothing more to say. Their marriage was over.

He walked towards her and stopped. In hushed tones, he threw everything into turmoil. ‘The child will have the operations he needs; I will see to that.'

Kazim's words rushed at her and she could hardly take them in. Claude was going to get the help he needed—from Kazim?

Amber's breath shuddered in and she clutched the door for support. ‘You mean you will help us?' Hope soared inside her. Claude was going to be able to walk.

‘On one condition.'

She frowned, her eyes searching his handsome face. ‘Condition?'

‘That you return to Barazbin with me.'

She shook her head, small frantic movements of disbelief. ‘No.' How could he ask that of her?

Kazim stepped so close that he towered over her, dominating the very air she breathed. ‘He will have all the operations he needs as quickly as possible and I will set him and his mother up in a home, wherever she wants to be. They will be secure and safe whilst the child grows up.'

‘But...' She couldn't even put a sentence together. To be given everything she wanted and to have all she'd fled from forced on her at the same time was too much.

Finally she could breathe and think. Would he be so ruthless? ‘What if I say no?'

‘Then I will walk away from here. We will have nothing more to do with each other—apart from a divorce.' There wasn't a second's pause before he answered. He was as mercenary as ever.

‘That's blackmail.' Her fingertips touched her lips as she looked at him, totally unable to believe he could be so callous, so unfeeling.

‘No, Amber. It's just a way of getting what we both want.'

‘You're unbelievable.' She fought hard against the urge to pummel her fists on his chest as frustration erupted like a volcano inside her. How could he put her in such a position? Claude would be well and Annie would have a home, but it wasn't just Kazim who would give them that. It was her too.

‘The decision is yours, Amber. I will return at first light and I expect you to be ready to leave.'

CHAPTER THREE

A
S
THE
SKY
lightened over Paris, Amber quietly closed the door of the flat. She'd left a note for Annie, explaining she had to go away for a while but saying nothing about Kazim's promise or, rather, his blackmail. She hadn't known what else to tell her. How did you explain a husband you'd never mentioned, let alone that you were a princess and far from an ordinary girl?

As if conjured up by her thoughts, what could only be Kazim's sleek black car purred to a stop in the narrow street. She swallowed down the guilt of running out on Annie, which mixed with the nerves of what she'd agreed to do. Was she really about to go back to Barazbin?

She took a deep breath of early morning air and blew out softly, trying to still her nerves. She was going back, but it would only be for a while; of that she was certain. Just until Claude was well enough to return home, then she would too.

Amber looked at the car and what it represented—her return to a life she'd thought she'd turned her back on. Ever since the day she'd left, she'd thought that if she ever heard from Kazim again it would be to arrange their divorce. Although secretly she'd wished he would turn up and whisk her back to his kingdom with declarations of true love.

The thought that he'd turn into a ruthless blackmailer hadn't entered into the equation at all. She stood on the steps and looked down at the car, its darkened windows preventing prying eyes, and for a moment she had to fight the urge to run away, as far and as fast as she could from the hand that fate had dealt her.

‘Good morning, Princess.' The driver got out and walked around the car to her, his greeting rasping her already jittery nerves. Where was Kazim? Was he so sure she'd go back with him that he hadn't even considered it necessary to fetch her personally?

For a moment she wanted to bolt back inside the flat. If he couldn't be bothered to greet her himself why was she even thinking of going with him? Did he assume he could just pack her up like a parcel and send her back to the desert?

The driver took her bag and opened the back door of the car. Apprehension skittered over her as she stepped into the spacious interior. But it was already occupied. A startled gasp escaped her before she had a chance of regaining composure as Kazim sat, full of regal command, watching her.

Calm, completely sure of himself and devilishly handsome, he sat and watched her as she froze, unable to sit or turn back. She could see the question in his eyes and wondered if he sensed the turmoil racing through her at top speed. Warily, she sat opposite him, not daring to get too close to the commanding presence that radiated from him and was sapping her strength.

Nerves mixed with anxiety, making her irrationally angry. He hadn't bothered to get out of the car, much less speak to her. She shot him a glare. ‘You could at least say good morning.'

He smiled. A slow sexy smile that deepened his eyes to the colour of the midnight sky. He was far too sure of himself. ‘If it makes you feel better, I will. Good morning, Amber.' His voice sounded deeper, more intense than she had ever noticed before. ‘It is, however, not long since we parted.'

She refused to rise further to the bait and focused instead on the streets of Paris, the daily life she'd found so entertaining beginning around them. As the car moved silently, like a predator stealing her away, she glanced up at the magnificent buildings. Then the chic cafés that she'd always promised herself she'd visit passed before her, teasing her with all she hadn't yet done.

It didn't seem possible that this man had managed to turn her life upside down again. Worse still was the fact that she'd given him all the ammunition he'd needed, by telling him about Claude. He wouldn't have had any kind of lever if she'd said nothing. She should have just refused to go back with him. Insisted on a divorce.

‘Not long enough,' she said quickly, her tone flippant. ‘I just wish our next meeting had been for the purpose it should have been for—to arrange a divorce.' She turned to look at his face and tried not to pay any attention to the way her body reacted to being so close to him. Those childish dreams of passion and happy endings needed to be stamped out once and for all—and quickly.

‘Things have changed.' He leant forward in the seat, coming too close to her, serving only to increase her irritation. His heady aftershave, potent within the confines of the car, caused her heartbeat to accelerate rapidly. She couldn't allow him to affect her like this, to turn her insides to molten lava with just a look. She had to maintain control.

‘It's you who came to find me, Kazim. It's
you
who needs
me
.' She injected a steely edge into her voice, wondering why she'd ever agreed to his demands—but instantly reminded herself of Claude. This could be his only chance to get the treatment he needed. So, for Claude, she would go. She would protect her foolish heart and keep her distance from Kazim. It was the only option she could see right now.

He sat back, the movement drawing her from her thoughts, and she watched as he reached inside his jacket pocket for his phone. What was wrong with him? He couldn't even give her his full attention.

‘No, Amber, it is you who needs me. You want funds for the child's operation and, deep down, you must want to please your family, to build bridges. You need this marriage as much as I do.'

She clenched her teeth, biting back the retort. How could he think she wanted to please her family after they'd disowned her? There was no going back; they'd made that quite clear. ‘I don't have a family, thanks to you.'

He looked at her and a question sparked in his eyes but he said nothing, his silence goading her, making her press home her point.

‘You saw to that when you sent me back to them. They were so horrified and ashamed that you'd turned your back on me, they sent me to England.' But England hadn't quite been the punishment intended. She'd met distant relations of her grandmother's and there had gained the strength to move to Paris, a city that had always entranced her.

It still hurt like hell to think of her father's proud face, barely able to conceal his disappointment. Her marriage, he'd told her, hadn't achieved anything but disgrace as far as he was concerned. If her husband had turned her away after one night, her father had raged, then he too had no option but to send her away.

Amber looked at the passing streets, the impressive Eiffel Tower as it rose skywards above the city. She hadn't even made it there, let alone the galleries and museums. But she hadn't expected to be leaving so soon.

‘They shouldn't have done that.' Kazim finally spoke, his voice velvety-smooth yet hard-edged, and she reluctantly dragged her gaze from the beautiful city. ‘Your father got what he wanted out of our union. His lands are now very prosperous.'

She shook her head. ‘You don't understand, Kazim.'

‘What is there to understand?' His expression hardened as he looked at her before returning his attention to his phone. Seconds later he spoke into the phone in his native tongue and, like a chant, it wound its way around her, tugging at her memories. It took her back to the days when she'd been happy, the long lazy days of childhood spent in her father's homeland, Quarazmir, to a time when all had been right in her world. At least until she'd been sent to boarding school in England to enable her to learn more of her English heritage, something her father had insisted upon and her mother had fought hard against.

Amber pushed those thoughts aside as Kazim finished his call, slipped the phone back inside his jacket pocket and looked at her. ‘The jet is ready and waiting. We shall be there in little more than an hour.'

‘An hour? I thought we were going to Barazbin.' Confusion pushed aside her daydreams of times long since passed, sharply bringing the present into focus.

‘I am on my way to England. I have business to conclude before returning to Barazbin.'

Shock ricocheted through her like a pinball. He hadn't come to Paris especially for her. He'd just stopped off on his journey as if she was nothing more than an irritating loose end that needed tying up. Anger quickly followed the shock and she clenched her fingers tightly in her lap, her nails biting into her palms.

‘You should have told me. I could have made better plans for leaving.'
Or not left at all
. Then she remembered Claude and what he stood to gain from her deal with this devil. Guilt tore through her once again. She was doing this for Claude and Annie, not for herself and never for Kazim. As soon as she could, she would leave Barazbin and her marriage behind.

‘What plans would they have been? To slip away, assume a new identity and take on another job in an equally unsavoury establishment?' Although his deep voice was courteous there was an underlying patronising kick in it.

She blushed. He'd guessed her thoughts but she kept her voice light, trying to provoke a reaction from him, to shake his rigid composure. ‘Would you rather I had told everyone who I was?'

‘No.' His voice was brusque as she sat forward again. ‘But be warned, Amber. If this episode in your life gets out and threatens all I'm trying to achieve in Barazbin, you will pay dearly.'

‘Now we are getting to the bottom of it all.' She smiled sarcastically at him. ‘Just what is it you are trying to do—apart from blow my life to pieces again? Why exactly am I, the woman you married and turned your back on in one night, so necessary?'

Just when she thought she was about to unravel the mystery of Kazim's sudden intrusion into her life, the car stopped. The private jet looming above them brought reality hurtling at her.

She was about to leave with Kazim—a man who had dismissed her from his life so coldly. She had no idea when she would return to Paris, but one thing she was sure of was that she would not be staying in Barazbin long.

* * *

‘We're here,' Kazim said, grateful for their timely arrival at the airport. He'd nearly let things slip, nearly told her she was not only of paramount importance to his succession to the throne, but crucial in a deal he was making—a deal to secure peace to his people, a deal very important to him. It was his duty to return to Barazbin with her. A duty he intended to fulfil, whatever obstacles he had to remove.

He'd always wanted to help the nomadic tribes, previously his father's venture. Now it was time for Kazim to step aside from his successful oil company and take up the position he'd been born to. Duty called and that call was becoming increasingly more insistent.

In an effort to forget a life he'd been forced to forgo, he focused his attention on Amber, watched as she all but physically rooted herself to the seat, her full lips parting, drawing his gaze, and his control wavered. She'd thrown herself at him on their wedding night and he'd turned his back on her. He'd had his reasons—good reasons. But now he couldn't ignore what he'd felt that night, stirrings of passion so strong it still simmered in his blood. He wanted her.

Was that so wrong? For a man to want his wife?

He leant further forward, closing the distance between them, surprising himself as much as her, as his lips claimed hers. A dizzying sensation hurtled around his body as he met no resistance from her, her lips moving beneath his. After a second she stilled as if she was about to pull away then her lips parted against his, encouraging him. She tasted of mint, so clean and vibrant it infused his body, making him want much more than a kiss.

The polite cough of the driver and the cool air rushing into the car dampened the desire flooding his body and he moved abruptly away. Her lovely face was flushed beneath her dusky complexion, her eyes burnished bronze and her lips plump and extremely kissable.

His body stiffened. As did his resolve to achieve what he'd set out to do. Reclaim his wife. It was more than time to claim his bride, make her his.

‘You are my wife, Amber, and it is past time you started being just that.' The harshness of his voice had echoes of his father, but he couldn't dwell on that now. Not when hot desire raced around him in a way he'd never experienced before.

‘No, I can't.' Her eyes were wide with shock, her cheeks lightly flushed, fuelling his desire even more.

‘I will not accept that. You belong to me and it's time I claimed what is mine.' Even to his ears his words sounded barbaric, like something uttered by a sheikh of many years ago—or his bullying father. He'd never wanted to be either but as soon as his lips had touched hers he'd lost all reason, all ability to think rationally. Wildness raced in his blood, driving him on.

‘Please, Kazim, I can't be your wife,' she begged, her eyes beseeching him. ‘You can't just whisk me back to Barazbin.'

‘We're not there yet.' A gust of wind all but snatched his words away as he got out of the car, tossing them around the airfield, and he saw a frown of confusion furrow her brow.

‘Why did I have to come now?' Amber got out of the car, the wind pressing her blouse against her, and he savoured her slender figure until she glared at him. She stepped closer to him, her chin lifted in defiance and, although her height didn't quite match his, she was still tall for a woman. ‘I'm not a wayward pet that needs bringing to heel.'

‘This way,' Kazim said, touching her arm and guiding her towards the plane, determined not to rise to her provocation. At his side, she kept pace with his strides and it felt strangely right to be walking with her, as if they were matched and meant to be so.

‘We will stay in London this evening. Tomorrow, we will attend a polo match where I am due to meet with several other rulers. Once my business is concluded we will return to Barazbin.'

He climbed the steps into the small private jet, turning as he entered it. ‘From the small amount of luggage you have, I'm assuming you don't have evening wear or anything suitable for a polo weekend.'