My Desert Rose (6 page)

Not only was
Katie exquisitely beautiful, and extremely talented with strength
of character, she was the daughter of Sheikh Allah Turan. Allah had
been a great leader of his people, moving them from Syria into
Turkey before Katie was born and becoming an ambassador for peace
with Turkey until the take-down of his community by an extreme
fundamentalist group, who had wanted to teach him a lesson. It had
cost him the death of his wife, his unborn child, the loss of his
daughter and the siege of his oil wells.

Upon further
research, Tariq found that the Sheikh hadn't died that day. A trip
to Turkey had confirmed this and revealed that Allah had lived his
life in hiding. This gem of a discovery is what sealed the deal.
No-one of Tariq's country and faith could deny Katie's lineage and
his right to choose her as a wife.

The double
doors at the far end of the room opened and Katie emerged. Tariq
gulped at the vision in front of him. Dressed in a long red silk
sheath, he was mesmerised by the swirling silk as she moved towards
him. Her hair was piled on top of her head with little golden
tendrils hanging down. The subdued and almost haunted look upon her
face did nothing to distract him from her elegant beauty.

Earlier, he'd
asked Thebes to order them a light dinner of creamy chicken in a
slightly spicy tarragon and butter sauce, with tiny roasted
potatoes and salad. A choice of little petits fours for dessert
finished off the meal. It had been delivered ten minutes ago on
covered hot plates.

As she neared,
Tariq pulled out a dining chair and gestured for her to sit. "I
don't know about you," he said lightly, as he sat opposite her and
took the lid off the largest plate. "But I'm quite famished."

Ravenous hunger
gnawed at her stomach. "Me too," she admitted. "The last time I ate
was yesterday at the wedding."

Guilt filled
Tariq. "I'm so sorry," he replied in dismay. "I haven't looked
after you very well so far, but," he smiled brightly at her, "that
changes from this moment on, so come on, let's dig in."

Katie breathed
in the delicious aroma as Tariq spooned little roast potatoes and
chicken onto her plate and then slathered them with the creamy
sauce.

They ate in
companionable silence for a while. It wasn't that she didn't want
to talk to him. It was just that his presence did funny things to
her insides. There was this energy between them that seemed to
vibrate through the air. Whatever was happening, it was causing her
to be acutely aware of every move he made. She'd even bet that her
newly sensitised nerve endings were making the food taste like
heaven, as it rolled over her taste-buds.

Finally
stuffed, she pushed away her plate. "Now
that
is how to cook
chicken!" A bit of sauce had dropped onto her finger and so she put
it to her lips and licked it off. The room suddenly crackled with
tension and she looked up into the two desire-fuelled eyes of Mr.
Dark and Dangerous. A flutter of excitement hit her low in her
belly.

When she'd
entered the room earlier, she'd immediately registered his change
of white shirt into a black one. This only added another layer of
mystery to him as it mixed with his olive skin, black hair,
shadowed jawline and those chocolate drop eyes. Utterly
devastating, she thought, as she squirmed in her seat. "So, you
promised me the down and dirty on you."

The smouldering
look in his eyes intensified. Oops, wrong choice of words. "I mean
information, you promised me information about you?" she said
sharply enough to break the spell.

"I did, didn't
I," he drawled, as he dropped the intense look and leaned back in
his chair. "So, ask away."

"Well, let's
start with a simple question. What's your favourite colour?"

"Oh, that's
easy to answer. Blue." Then he smiled mischievously. "And yours is
purple."

"How did you
know that?" she trilled at him. "Seriously, that’s kinda spooky for
a stranger to know your favourite colour without you even telling
them."

Tariq shrugged
noncommittally. "I have my ways of finding out information."

Averting her
eyes to look at the plate of desserts, she coloured slightly
knowing that he knew everything about her. "Okay, but we're talking
about you, not me." She picked up a chocolate petit four. "What's
your favourite music then?"

"That's
irrelevant. You won't have heard of them," he replied.

"But I need to
know in case I'm asked." She bit into the petit four to find a
liquid chocolate centre. "Yum," she sighed.

He watched in
fascination as a sliver of gooey chocolate ran down her chin. Her
tongue came out to lap it up and his crotch tightened in response.
"It's a group called i Muvrini and a particular favourite song of
mine is called Alma."

She popped the
rest into her mouth and sucked on its sweetness. "Will you play it
for me?"

"Maybe some
other time." There was no way he could risk standing up and
exposing his growing erection. Also, that piece of music deserved a
different type of appreciation. Its haunting melody wouldn't work
with his thoughts of slowly stripping the red dress off the
curvaceous, sexy woman opposite.

"Okay, I have a
good one for you. How many girlfriends have you had?" she asked in
a shy voice.

He chuckled.
"You mean lovers?"

Feeling a
little embarrassed at her own nosiness, she flapped her hand in
front of her. "Yeah, whatever you prefer to call them."

"I’m
thirty-five, little moheet. There have been many, but none that
were serious. What about you?"

Exactly how
many does he mean by
many
? she wondered. "Well, other than
the standard teenage fumble to end the agony of being a virgin,
I’ve had two serious relationships. One lasting six months, and
that was pretty intense and one lasting a few years, but he was a
lazy lover." She clamped her mouth shut. Once again her tongue had
run away with her.

Three lovers
had touched her buttery skin and been intimate with her?
He
tried not to let his reaction show on his face, but it felt like
someone had just winded him. The thought of her being with someone
else was not a nice thing to ponder on, yet he knew that it was
logical. The women in his country were expected to marry untouched,
but her English upbringing had allowed her to have that kind of
freedom. It wasn’t right for him to make a judgment. The
restrictions in his country had caused him to take lovers with
Mediterranean backgrounds who had similar beliefs to Katie.

Coughing
slightly at the awkwardness that had descended between them, she
asked his now serious face, "How come you’ve been allowed to marry
someone of your choice? Aren’t your parents supposed to choose for
you?"

He shuddered at
her question. "They did try."

Now she was
intrigued. "What happened?"

"I turned the
woman and her family down, so she married my brother instead."

She gasped in
shock. "You mean Amira was supposed to marry you?"

Tariq nodded as
he remembered the whole messy affair. "She wasn’t exactly happy
about my decision and she virtually begged me to reconsider."

Katie put two
and two together. "Do you think this is why your ships are being
taken by pirates, as in some sort of revenge?"

"The thought
had crossed my mind," he replied honestly. "But without
proof..."

"This is real,
isn’t it?" she whispered.

"Yes." He gave
her a tight smile.

A heavy weight
settled in her stomach. The realisation that actual people had died
was slowly sinking in. Perhaps Tariq's decision to kidnap her
really hadn't been made lightly. "Isn't there any other way to deal
with the pirates?"

"No. Many
countries suffer from their violent pilfering and there is no
regulated police or security. It's down to each country to protect
its own ships and men."

"How can
someone knowingly have innocent men killed?" she murmured more to
herself than Tariq. A thought struck her. "Will your brother and
Amira be there tomorrow evening?" Without him even uttering a word,
she knew his answer from the look on his face. "How exactly do you
want me to behave?"

"Just be you."
He smiled encouragingly at her. "If there are any difficult
questions, I will ad-lib and we’ll learn more about each other as
we go along."

Making that her
cue to leave, she nodded before pushing her chair back from the
table. It had probably been the most bizarre twenty-four hours of
her life. "If you don’t mind I think it’s time to retire. I’m
absolutely pooped." Placing her chair back into position, she
turned to walk to the bedroom doors. "Goodnight, Tariq."

Tariq stood up
to put the lids back on the food and collect up the plates. "I will
be along shortly," he responded in a gruff tone.

Turning swiftly
to face him, she visibly shivered at his words. "You can’t be
serious. Surely you aren’t going to...I mean...not with me...how
about you sleep on the sofa?"

Keeping himself
occupied with the cutlery, he answered smoothly, "No can do."
Whatever his feelings were on the subject of this marriage, Katie's
refusing to sleep in the same bed as him was not acceptable.

"What?" she
exclaimed. "You’re really going to lie in the same bed as me?"

"The last time
I checked, that’s what married people do," he replied gently.

"But we’re not
really married!"

"Yes we
are."

"No we’re
not."

"Yes we are,
and it’s for life."

That wasn't
exactly what she wanted to hear. "But you promised me. No funny
business."

"I promised not
to make a move on you. If it makes you feel better you can put a
line of pillows between us." Aiming to keep it light and not make a
big deal out of it, he raised his eyebrows and grinned at her.

Crossing her
arms over her middle, she huffed at him. "This is not funny,
Tariq."

Closing the
distance between them in several long easy strides, Tariq put his
hands on her shoulders and gazed into her worried looking eyes. "We
may be here for some time until I can get proof about Hassan and
Amira. Until then, I can’t let the staff pick up on our separate
sleeping arrangements. We need to look like a newly wedded couple
who are in coital bliss." He wished the 'coital bliss' bit was
true.

The warmth from
his touch pierced her skin. "Okay, but one wrong move and I swear
you'll end up as a eunuch!"

Lowering his
head, he put his lips mere centimetres from hers. The heat between
them soared. "I will let you decide if there'll ever be anything
more than a working relationship between us, but here's my warning.
The second you give me a green light, I won't give you a chance to
change your mind." Electric energy pulsated between them. Even
though he wanted to dive right in and throw her over his shoulder
and carry her to bed, he'd promised her the space to make the first
move, but if she so much as gave him the nod, she'd become his
completely.

Dropping her
eyes to look at those full lips made her lick her own in response.
"Oh, I assure you, it will be business all the way," she breathed,
as she mentally thought about leaning in and nibbling on them.

Tariq’s heart
beat faster at the seductive tones of her voice and his blood
rushed into his lower regions. His thumbs were making small circles
on her collarbone. Just the feel of her was causing his body to go
into overdrive. Letting go of her shoulders, he watched as she
turned to open the door and he playfully smacked her rump. "I won't
mind if you sleep naked," he teased.

"In your dreams
mate," she retorted in a smiling tone as she rushed through the
door and made her way through the bedroom and into her dressing
room.

Crap!

This marriage
just kept getting more complex by the minute. Rummaging through the
drawers, she pulled out a long Victorian styled nightgown, "Nope,
definitely not!" A pair of green and white striped pyjamas also got
tossed out. "Too much like toothpaste," she muttered out loud.
Seriously, she thought, whoever had gone shopping for these night
clothes needed a girlie pep talk on fashion! Finally, she settled
on a pair of pink pyjama shorts with tiny printed white flowers and
a white T-shirt with a glittered red heart in the centre. "I'll
feel about twelve lying next to an Arabian god," she mumbled, as
she headed for the bathroom.

Once in there
she spent a ridiculous amount of time in primping herself by
flossing her teeth - twice - brushing her hair until her brush held
more hair than her head and scrubbing her face until it was red.
Finally, she felt just about ready to climb into that big bed with
Tariq. Leaving the bathroom, the clothes bomb in the dressing room
demanded her attention, so she began to tidy that up too. In the
end, she realised that she was purposely avoiding the moment, so
she took a deep breath, opened the door to the bedroom and peered
around it. The bed was empty.

Thank God!

On the
humongous bed were several layers of pillows and cushions, so she
pulled back the covers and began to arrange them down the centre.
Stepping back to take a look, she saw that it wasn't right. The
three tramlines of pillows only left her with about enough room to
lie on her side. Shoving everything off, she started again, perhaps
if she stacked them on top of each other? She'd just about finished
her new three tiered wall when she felt someone behind her,
watching her.

Tariq.

Turning to face
him her breath caught in her throat. He was standing there with his
hands on his hips looking at her with amusement, but it was the
fact that his neck, chest, arms, stomach, wrists, legs and ankles
were naked. She gulped. There was just too much nakedness, apart
from a pair of tight, black, boxer briefs. "Erm, so no T-shirt for
you then?" she asked.