Girl in the Bedouin Tent (13 page)

The thought brought him up short, alarm bells ringing. It gave him the strength to say what must be said.

‘You might want to consider keeping your students in the classroom for a few weeks.’ A rough note edged his voice. ‘Let one of the other teachers take the group around the city.’

Deep inside pain needled his belly. Guilt?

‘Why? That’s part of their success. It’s why they work so well, and the women are enthusiastic.’

‘I’m sure a lot of it is to do with you, Cassie, not just the location.’ He paused, wishing he hadn’t raised this. ‘But Faruq tells me you’re attracting a lot of attention.’ He raised his hand when she made to respond. ‘I know it’s great publicity for the programme, but from what Faruq says it won’t be long before local journalists sniff around for a profile piece.’ He held her bewildered gaze. ‘My staff are discreet, Cassie, but once the press gets interested they’ll dig up the fact you spent a week as my sex slave.’

‘I didn’t!’

The jab of pain in his belly became a searing dagger-slash as he watched her bright eyes shadow. Her mouth tightened and she swallowed as if in pain.

He’d done that to her.

‘You and I know the circumstances. But imagine the salacious stories once they hear you were given to me and what our accommodation consisted of.’

It would be no time at all before the press shouted what now was only whispered in inner circles: that Cassie was his lover, flaunting herself in the palace even as arrangements proceeded for a royal betrothal.

Never before had Amir installed a lover in the palace. At this delicate time especially the furore would be tremendous.

‘That might be a good idea. I’ll think about it.’

Amir’s heart clenched as he watched pride replace pain on her face. She really was a woman in a million.

He was desperate to buy them more time.

His only hope lay in the belief that soon he would grow out of this … need for her.

One day he’d take in matrimony the woman his country expected him to wed. The woman approved by the Council of Elders, who matched every one of Amir’s own criteria in a wife. The woman who would give him and his children the stability he demanded. What he needed.

If only he could imagine ever wanting her as much as he did Cassie.

‘Thanks. I’ll be fine from here.’ Cassie closed the car door and waved to the director of the language school.

This afternoon’s class had gone better than expected, given they’d stayed in the classroom. The women had been as enthusiastic as ever, and there’d been a lot of laughter as well as an encouraging amount of progress.

Yet Cassie had felt hemmed in and unsettled. Amir’s comments about the press had persuaded her to stop for now the roving class that had been such a success. The small school could do with the support publicity could bring, but not the notoriety of gossip about her and Amir. Sex slave, indeed!

Distaste shivered along her spine.

That tag pushed every sensitive button she had. Not surprising since she’d grown up watching men swagger in and out of her mother’s life, and how the role of kept woman had brought out a calculating, hard-heartedness in her mother Cassie aimed never to emulate.

She walked through the enormous palace gates, determined to put all that from her mind.

Normally she used another entrance, marginally less grand, on the other side of the royal complex. But she’d enjoyed the chance to chat with the director rather than sit in a silent state
in the back of one of Amir’s gleaming vehicles that usually delivered her to her part of the palace.

Despite the noisy enthusiasm of the classes, Cassie realised she missed the chance for a chat with another woman. Amir’s employees kept a discreet distance.

She smiled and nodded to a pair of uniformed guards, and made her way up the wide steps to the entrance.

The splendour of the grand foyer stopped her in her tracks. She’d never been in this part of the palace and its magnificence took her breath away.

A towering domed ceiling of gilt and azure mosaic work drew the eye from a forest of slender supporting columns. The marble floor was inlaid in an intricate geometric design that must have taken years to complete. Tiny in the immense space were clusters of antique furniture, silk rugs and enormous jardinieres filled with exotic blooms.

An army of staff was busy under the eagle-eyed direction of the palace chamberlain.

Slowly Cassie approached, loath to ask directions of the only one of Amir’s employees who’d made her feel not unwelcome but uncomfortable. His piercing grey eyes never warmed and there was a cool punctiliousness to his manner that made her wonder if he disapproved of her.

‘Miss Denison.’ He bowed. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine, thank you, Musad. And you?’

‘Well, thank you.’ He folded his hands, watching her with a complete lack of expression she found unnerving. ‘Can I assist you?’

Cassie smiled. ‘If you would. I’m afraid I’ll need directions to my rooms. I’m bound to get lost from here.’ The sprawling palace covered hectares.

Musad didn’t smile in response, merely inclined his head. ‘Of course. The way to the harem is not easy from these public areas. Deliberately so.’

‘Harem?’ She was staying in a
harem?
It sounded so antiquated. So
suggestive.

Something flickered in his cool eyes. ‘Yes. That is the name given to the place where the women of the King live.’ He lifted his hand and one of the servants cleaning a nearby chandelier hurried towards them. ‘I’ll have someone show you the way.’

The women of the King.
Cassie supposed that meant the monarch’s female relatives, yet she couldn’t banish a trickle of horror, remembering stories about concubines immured in harems for some man’s pleasure. That didn’t apply to her. She was Amir’s guest, not his possession.

‘You’re having a spring clean, are you?’ she asked brightly, changing the subject.

Musad nodded. ‘Preparations for the forthcoming celebrations will take weeks. It’s a massive undertaking.’

‘What are you celebrating?’

His head jerked up as if struck, and Cassie read what looked like shock in the chamberlain’s stiff features. His eyes rounded and his jaw slackened.

The servant he’d summoned stopped before them. Musad waved him abruptly away before gathering himself and wiping his face clear of expression once more.

His reaction to her question confused and disturbed. What was going on?

‘Come, Miss Denison, I’ll show you to your rooms myself.’ He turned and gestured for her to accompany him across the vast space.

Intrigued at the change in him, Cassie followed his lead, nodding vaguely as he spoke of the dimensions of the grand hall, the age of the wall paintings and the jewels embedded in the walls, designed to glitter by lamplight and remind visitors of the royal family’s immense wealth.

His patter continued as they proceeded past vast reception rooms and wide hallways, each more splendid than the last, till Cassie was filled with a numb sense of dismay at how incredibly rich Amir was.

Her lips curved in a mirthless smile. Of course he was
wealthy. She’d known it from the start. But walking endless corridors filled to the brim with treasures only reinforced the enormous gulf that existed between his world and hers.

How had she ever hoped they might—?

What?
The cynical voice deep inside probed her sudden pain, like a tongue seeking out a sore tooth.
What did you hope? That he’d want more than an affair? That he’d want something long-term?

You’ve fallen in love with a king, not an ordinary man.

Yet hope lingered. The fragile dreams she’d harboured refused to die.

‘You never did tell me, Musad.’ She broke into speech—anything to silence the knowing little voice in her head. ‘What celebration is it you’re preparing for?’

Musad stopped and regarded her gravely. Again she caught a flicker of something in his eyes. She would almost swear it looked like sympathy!

‘A royal event,’ he murmured slowly, as if reluctant to speak. Fascinated, Cassie watched him draw a deep breath. ‘It will mark the formal betrothal of our Sheikh.’

‘The formal …?’ For the life of her Cassie couldn’t force out the next word. Desperately she groped for a near pillar, clutching at it for support as her legs wobbled alarmingly.

Musad nodded. ‘Our Sheikh is to marry a woman from one of the most prominent Tarakhan families.’

Dimly Cassie registered Musad’s gentle tone, as if he regretted breaking the news. In slow motion she saw him raise a hand to fiddle with his perfectly arranged headcloth. Her pulse decelerated to a heavy thump and for a moment she wondered idly if she might faint as the world spun around her and nausea rose in an engulfing tide.

Amir was to marry. Betrothal celebrations were imminent. Which meant he’d been planning his wedding while keeping Cassie here as … what? His mistress?

Cassie’s fragile dreams shattered in a moment that stretched out to accommodate infinite pain.

‘F
OOL,
fool fool!’ Cassie paced her room, allowing anger to surge, hoping it might relieve the gaping ache that filled her soul. The emptiness where hope and happiness had resided.

Amir hadn’t promised for ever. He hadn’t promised anything. Nor had she demanded any assurances from him. She’d told herself it was enough that they shared their bodies, shared themselves with no strings attached, because they weren’t hurting anyone. That what they had was open and honest. In her innocence she’d believed their relationship was special, that eventually Amir would come to feel what she did. That at least there was a
chance.

But there’d been nothing honest about what Amir had done. He’d kept her in his house, in his
harem,
while he arranged to marry to another woman!

Pain ripped through Cassie and her pace faltered as she doubled up, her knuckles pressed to her mouth to stop a cry of distress.

She felt … betrayed. She felt cheapened by what she’d allowed Amir to do to her.

She felt disgust, reliving the moment when as a child she’d realised what her mother did for money. Yet now it was
self-
disgust Cassie felt. Its taste was bitter gall on her tongue.

What she’d thought wondrous had merely been Amir using her to satisfy his physical needs until he settled down with his wife.

Needle-sharp pain splintered through her belly.

No wonder Musad had looked concerned. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to break the news. At least he’d had the decency to take her somewhere private first.

How could she not have realised Amir played a double game?

She’d given herself to him believing they shared as equals. That this passion, this rare sense of connection, was real and worth pursuing. That he respected her as she had him. The man who’d protected her when she’d had no one else but herself to rely on. The man who’d held himself back from her, night after night, because she was so vulnerable.

His honour, his restraint, his caring had broken down the barriers she’d spent a lifetime erecting.

What had happened to that man? When had he changed?

Or had that all been a ploy to suck her into the heady spell of sensuality he wove around her?

Had he seen how needy she was for affection when she hadn’t realised it herself? Had he deliberately worked on her weaknesses?

Her breath sawed as she recalled that moment today when she’d bent to pick up a pen she’d dropped in class and the women had murmured appreciatively over her new pendant as it slipped loose. One woman had claimed the blue stone was a sapphire, a rare stone of superb quality only found in a single mine in a remote part of Tarakhar. She’d claimed it was worth a fortune.

Cassie had smiled and tucked the pendant under her shirt and forgotten about it, knowing the woman was mistaken. What if she wasn’t?

Had Amir’s gift been payment in kind for services rendered?

What had Cassie allowed herself to become?

She sagged against the wall, knees trembling, as the truth hit her. That necklace: the sort a rich man gave his mistress. The gossamer-fine silks and barely there underwear he provided instead of the sturdy cotton she’d once worn. The way
Amir kept her in his harem but never invited her to the other parts of the palace. He came to her bed. She’d never so much as
seen
his bedroom, and he took care to leave her before dawn each morning. He came to her at night or dusk, never in the day. Nor did he invite her to participate in any of the events he attended. She hadn’t been introduced to his friends or family.

Because he was ashamed of her?

No! It was left to Cassie to feel shame.

The truth was so blindingly obvious she couldn’t believe she’d never seen it. Amir didn’t care enough to feel ashamed of her. He simply kept her in exquisite isolation where she could pander to his wishes and pleasure him.

Like a harem girl of old.

Bile rose in her throat but she forced it down. She had to face this.

Cassie thought of the daring way she’d caressed him with her mouth last night. She’d been so aroused by his response, revelling in the sense of power, having him so blatantly at her mercy. Now she felt sick, realising what a sham it had all been. Had he thought her enthusiasm manufactured because of his generous present?

All the time she’d given herself to him, loving him, Amir had seen her as little more than a prostitute, paying for her favours with jewellery and rich clothes and this luxurious accommodation.

No wonder he’d been so insistent she accept the pendant! It was an unspoken but necessary part of the bargain she hadn’t realised she’d made.

And all that time he’d planned his future with another woman.

Air. She needed air.

Cassie stumbled to the doors that opened onto the private courtyard. As she went she scrabbled at the catch on the necklace he’d given her. The heavy stone burned like ice between
her breasts, reminding her of the intimacy they’d shared and the price Amir put on it.

She yanked the chain free and flung it across the room.

Amir pushed open Cassie’s door, anticipation fizzing in his veins.

He’d reorganised his schedule so he could finish early and he’d planned a surprise for Cassie: a sunset picnic at a renowned beauty spot.

He loved surprising her. The way pleasure lit her face and her eyes glowed brighter than stars. The way she turned impulsively to him, touching, talking, sharing her excitement at the smallest of things, from a moonlit swim in dark velvety water to a perfect rose.

Amir found the intimacy of that shared pleasure addictive.

Striding across the room towards the open courtyard doors, he stepped on something and frowned. It was the necklace he’d given her just last night. The gem that was such a perfect match for her lustrous eyes. Was the catch faulty? He paused to examine it but could see nothing amiss. He pocketed it and moved on.

‘Cassie?’

A flash of movement caught his eye. There she was, walking in the shaded colonnade that rimmed the courtyard.

Amir stepped outside, drinking in the sight of her as a man who spied water after days in the desert. Something lifted inside him as he watched her pace quickly, all vibrant energy. She wore loose-fitting trousers that clung in all the right places and a shirt of gauzy violet that matched her eyes.

His pulse quickened.

‘Cassie!’

She swung round, but instead of hurrying to meet him she stood where she was. He couldn’t read her expression in the shadows but her stillness spoke of wariness, of tension.

‘What’s wrong?’

He covered the distance between them quickly. As he
approached she crossed her arms, accentuating the thrust of her breasts. His eyes lingered on the taut fabric even as his brain began calculating how long they could afford to linger here in pleasure without missing the spectacular sunset. They might just have time—

His eyes met hers and shock hit him.

Where was his sweet, warm lover? The engaging woman who’d stolen his attention these last two months?

Cassie’s eyes flashed fire and her mouth was set mutinously.

‘What’s happened? Did something go wrong at school today?’

Silently she shook her head. Amir stepped forward, his hand lifting to caress her cheek.

Cassie moved back, further into the shadows.

Something slammed into him. Shock. Dismay. Why did she withdraw?

‘I found this on the floor.’ He dug the sapphire from his pocket and held it out.

Instead of reaching for it Cassie backed up another step, putting her hands behind her as if touching it might contaminate her. His belly tightened as something like nerves hit him. What was wrong with her?

‘You can keep it. I don’t want it.’ Emotion vibrated in her words.

‘What do you mean?’ Amir paced towards her and was immeasurably relieved that she stood her ground. He wanted her close, where she belonged. ‘Last night you were thrilled by it. You promised to wear it for me.’

He wanted her to wear it now. The fact that she’d dropped it on the floor sent a dart of dismay spearing through him.

‘I didn’t know what it was then.’ Her fine brows drew together. ‘It’s a real gem, isn’t it?’

Amir frowned at her accusing tone. ‘It is. A sapphire from—’

‘I don’t care where it’s from. I don’t want it!’

‘And you wonder why I didn’t tell you all about it last night?’ This woman drove him crazy. How many others would have leapt on the extraordinary piece just for its monetary value? He spread his hands. ‘I realise you’re not comfortable with expensive gifts, so I—’

‘Lied.’

Amir stiffened. ‘I didn’t lie. I just told you it was a trinket.’ That was true. With his wealth, the cost of it was trifling. ‘I saw it and wanted it for you. Is that a crime?’ Her attitude rankled. The way she glared up at him, as if he’d done something wrong, was ridiculous.

‘I don’t like being lied to.’

Angry, Amir shoved the necklace in his pocket. ‘If it offends you so much I’ll take it away.’ What had got into her? ‘I don’t want
anything
from you.’

Amir frowned. ‘What does it matter? I’m a rich man. It pleases me to give you pretty things.’

Her chin tilted up. ‘Like it pleases you to keep me as your mistress?’

Cassie’s words sent a prickle of warning down his nape.

‘I wouldn’t use the word
mistress.’
There’d been other women—plenty of them—he’d put in that category. But not Cassie. She was different. This wasn’t a mercenary arrangement.

‘What term
would
you use? Kept woman? Bit on the side?’ The words snapped like staccato bites eating into his skin.

‘Don’t talk like that! We’re lovers.’

Slowly she shook her head. ‘No. Lovers share. Lovers are equals. But we’re not, are we? I thought we were. But it’s impossible.’

‘Why?’ He stepped closer still, driven by an urgency he didn’t comprehend. All these weeks they
had
been equals, sharing a gift so precious he’d never experienced anything like it. He’d told himself at first it was purely sex, but denial could only last so long. This was about far more than satisfying the libido.

With Cassie he felt …

‘Because you’re getting married.’

The words fell like blocks of ice into a surging sea.

‘Because you’ve made me into your prostitute, your private whore, buying my favours while you plan to marry another woman.’

Horror froze Amir as he looked into her pale, set face and read the anguish in her eyes.

‘Now, stop right there! It wasn’t like that.’ How could she talk about herself in that way? His stomach churned in fierce denial.

‘No?’ One eyebrow arched in magnificent disbelief. ‘What was it like, then?’

Amir’s hands clenched at his sides. He smarted from the insult she offered them both.

‘You know it wasn’t like that. I didn’t pay you. This—’ his gesture encompassed the secluded garden and her private suite ‘—has been about us alone, no one else. What has happened between us is genuine, Cassie. I … care for you.’ The words were out of his mouth without conscious decision, stunning him as he realised his feelings ran bone-deep.

For a moment she stared up with a look in her eyes that told him she wavered.

‘Yet you conveniently forgot to mention you were going to marry soon. That our relationship was doomed before it started.’

Amir frowned. ‘I never spoke to you of marriage. You can’t have expected—’

Her bitter laugh cut him off. ‘No, I couldn’t have, could I? That would have been the act of a naïve fool, wouldn’t it?’

Yet her voice betrayed pain as well as anger.

How could she have imagined he’d marry
her?
She was passing through, a foreigner with no lasting interest in his country. How could he marry a bride who’d been given to him as a sex slave? Who, albeit through no fault of her own, would create almost as much scandal as his own mother had when
those circumstances became known? Tarakhar needed an accomplished woman of good repute as its queen. A woman who would bring his carefully nurtured plans to life.
He
needed that.

Cassie and he … it was lust, desire, hunger between them. And liking. Respect too. He cared for Cassie. But that wasn’t enough to build a successful royal marriage.

‘You lied, Amir.’ She almost spat the words and he stiffened. ‘You lied by omission. You owed it to me, and to your fiancée, to tell the truth about your marriage plans.’

‘She’s not my fiancée.’

Cassie shook her head, fire dancing in her eyes.

Despite her accusations and the roiling mix of emotions churning inside an urgent need consumed him—to reach out and pull her close, stop her mouth with his kisses, stroke the tender skin of her throat and lose himself in shared passion. His need for her weakened him.

‘Not yet. But the deal’s as good as done, isn’t it? Your staff know about it. How many others?’

Amir shrugged, disliking the sense of being pushed onto the back foot.

‘My plans to marry don’t impact on what we have. I told you I intended to wed.’

‘So you did.’ Her voice was saccharine sweet as she folded her arms again. ‘But I thought you were talking about some day in the future. How was I to know you’d already picked a bride and made arrangements to marry her?’

‘It’s not relevant to us.’ Desperation stirred that he couldn’t make her understand. And that it mattered so much that she did.

‘No?’ She lunged forward and prodded him square in the chest with her index finger. ‘And what about when you’re married? Would it have been relevant then? Or would you have kept me on after the wedding? Does the idea of having both a wife and a concubine turn you on?’

‘Don’t be crude.’ How could she even
think
he’d treat her that way? Nausea curled in his belly at her words. But what was his excuse?

She’d honed in on the one flaw in his plans. For weeks he’d told himself he’d end their liaison as soon as it began to pall. That there’d be plenty of time to break it off before the wedding. That this was one final fling before he settled down to domesticity. Yet there’d been no sign of it palling. No ennui, no predictability. Instead his need for Cassie grew stronger each day.