The Sheikh's Wedding Contract. Andie Brock
Zayed Al Afzal. Far from being the extravagant philanderer they had described, he was obviously a highly intelligent man, sharp and shrewd and perceptive. To underestimate him would prove cataclysmic for Harith. For everyone.
And he didn’t even appear to be interested in the pleasures of the flesh. Not hers anyway. She was the one whose body was experiencing an unfamiliar ache beneath the hard, warm, damp skin of her captor.
But who could blame her? The towel that was wrapped around his lower torso was rubbing against her bare midriff, his weight forcing the jewelled belt around her hips to dig into her skin. She could feel the shape of him, the bulge of this very male part of his anatomy, hot and intimate and completely impossible to ignore as it pushed against her groin. It was driving every bit of any rehearsed speech she might have had right out of her mind.
Sucking in a shallow breath, Nadia determinedly squirmed beneath him in a last attempt to free herself. And she did feel him lift himself off her, just an inch or so, and just for a second. Taking full advantage, she bucked her hips, her breasts rising with her, hopeful that she might be able to unbalance him somehow. But as Zayed’s weight closed the gap between them even more tightly than before, she realised her action had had a very different result. She gasped. His full-blown erection was pressing into her groin, straining between them like a rod of steel beneath its towel cover. As her eyes flew to his she caught the gleam of undiluted lust and her own eyes, reflected in his, mirroring his desire.
So she could do this to him. He wasn’t totally impervious to her.
She squirmed again, revelling in this minor power she had over him, in the clenching, craving waves of sexual awakening that the feel of his rock-hard member had triggered in her.
Maybe her plan could still work. Maybe she could still tempt him into making love to her and start the chain of events that would eventually, somehow, achieve what this dangerous charade was all about—a lasting peace between their two nations. Just maybe.
But one thing was for sure. She had to make this moment count.
‘Your Royal Highness—’ she fixed her sultry, dark lilac eyes on his ‘—if you wanted to take me now I would not object. Whatever you should ask of me I will willingly provide and I would do my very best not to disappoint you.’
Instantly, the desire in Zayed’s eyes vanished.
‘Enough!’ Finally freeing her wrists, he pushed his torso up, locking his elbows, so that he now looked down on her, scornful contempt burning in his eyes. ‘Stop this horrible seduction routine. I can assure you I have no intention of taking you. That is most definitely not my style.’
Nadia slowly brought her arms down from over her head, lowering them awkwardly so that they didn’t touch any part of his skin. She was fighting to stop his wounding words from showing on her face.
‘I’ll have you know I am not in the habit of having sex with someone just because they offer it to me. Especially duplicitous young women who sneak uninvited into my bed and then somehow think they can seduce me for their own gain. Whatever gain that might be.’
She stared at him in dismay. She had been sure that the way to beguile a powerful and ruthless ruler was to offer up the only thing that was truly hers to give—her virginity. The never-to-be-recovered gift of her virtue. Now, despite the obvious interest she had stirred in his body, it seemed a laughable idea.
To a man like Sheikh Zayed such a prize meant nothing. Quite the reverse, in fact. Why would he be interested in her when he could pick and choose from the most sophisticated women in the world, sexually experienced women, who would know exactly how to make him happy?
And more than that, here was a man with far too much integrity and morality to ever be tempted into having sex with someone just because he could; she knew that now. She had got it all wrong and now she was doomed, but to what fate she had no idea.
‘I apologise, Your Highness.’ She pushed the words past her choked throat. ‘I can see that my behaviour has displeased you.’
‘Can we dispense with the Your Highness bit?’ Zayed cut sharply through her apology. ‘I think it’s fair to say that the situation we are in has bypassed the need for formal protocol. How about you just explain what the hell you are up to and I decide what to do with you?’
Both of those things sounded equally terrifying to Nadia. Screwing her eyes tightly shut, she tried to think of a way out of this mess. But when she opened them again Zayed was still staring down at her, waiting for her reply, and when he leaned forward with his hand raised she instinctively flinched.
‘Good God, woman.’ He stopped, appalled, twisting the black strand of her hair in his fingers. He had simply meant to brush it away from her heated face. ‘What sort of brute do you think I am?’
Nadia shook her head. ‘No, I don’t...’
‘What desperation would bring you to the bed of someone you obviously think would strike you?’
If only he knew. If only she could tell him the truth. But if she revealed who she was now, admitted that she was from Harith, she was certain he would instantly carry out his threat and have her clapped in irons and left to rot in the palace dungeons. That was the strength of hatred between the two kingdoms.
‘I’m not letting you go until you tell me, Nadia.’ His voice was low and grating, and she knew he was fighting to keep his patience, her silence obviously antagonising him even more. Shifting his weight, he leaned forward again, one muscled arm on either side of her head, his chest hovering just an inch above her own. ‘I’m waiting.’
‘Okay, okay, I will tell you. The reason I am here...’
Suddenly Nadia stopped, saved from having to continue by the sound of a brisk tap on the door behind them. Zayed hesitated, poised and alert. There was another tap.
‘Your Royal Highness?’ A male voice came through the door.
Zayed abruptly pulled his body off hers, and, pushing aside the drapes from the bed, got out. Turning away, he adjusted the towel around his hips before heading for the door. ‘Stay here.’ He hissed the order. ‘I’ll get rid of them.’
Nadia didn’t intend to do any such thing. If this was her only chance of escape she was going to grab it. Leaping up, she started to scrabble on all fours across the slippery satin sheets to the edge of this enormous bed in a desperate bid for freedom.
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ She hadn’t so much as got a foot to the floor before he was on her again, pushing her back against the pillows. Desperate now, Nadia bucked wildly beneath him, kicking her legs out to the side, wildly grabbing at anything she could get hold of. Which turned out to be a handful of Zayed’s towel. As she inadvertently ripped it from his hips she caught a glimpse of tight, naked buttocks before his body closed down on hers again.
‘Ahem.’ A polite cough alerted them both to the presence of someone else in the room. ‘Forgive me, Your Royal Highness.’
‘Go away!’ Furious, Zayed barked the words over his shoulder as he glared down at the now frozen Nadia.
‘I do apologise, sire, but I come with a message.’ There was another nervous cough. ‘From your father, sire. I believe it is a matter of some importance.’
* * *
Nadia started at the sound of the key turning in the lock and quickly turned to face the door, her hands behind her back.
It was about half an hour since Zayed had imprisoned her in his bedchamber. Having pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, the quick flash of his naked rear widening Nadia’s eyes still farther, he had locked the door to the interconnecting suite of rooms, theatrically jangling the bunch of keys in front of her face to make sure she had got the message. Finally, hissing a few curt words through his teeth to the effect that he would deal with her later, he had marched from the room, locking the door behind him.
Nadia’s first thought was that there had to be some way to escape. After futilely