Seduced By The Sheikh. Эбби Грин
‘I have to be very blunt here…’
An unexpected grin slanted across Raja’s beautifully moulded mouth, for in his opinion she had already been exceedingly frank. ‘By all means, be blunt.’
‘I would have to have equal billing in the ruling stakes,’ she told him squarely. ‘I can’t see how you can be trusted to look out for the interests of both countries when you’re from Najar. You would have an unfair advantage. I will only agree to marry you if I have as much of a say in all major decisions as you do.’
‘That is a revolutionary idea and not without its merits,’ Raja commented, striving not to picture Wajid Sulieman’s shattered face when he learned that his princess was not, after all, prepared to be a powerless puppet on the throne. ‘You should have that right but it will not be easy to convince the councils of old men, who act as the real government in our respective countries. In addition, you will surely concede that you know nothing about our culture—’
‘But I can certainly learn,’ Ruby broke in with stubborn determination. ‘Well, those are my terms.’
‘You won’t negotiate?’ the prince prompted.
‘There is no room for negotiation.’
Raja was grimly amused by that uncompromising stance. In many ways it only emphasised her naivety. She assumed that she could break all the rules and remain untouched by the consequences yet she had no idea of what real life was like in her native country. Without that knowledge she could not understand how much was at stake. He knew his own role too well to require advice on how to respond to her demands.
Royal life had taught him early that he did not have the luxury of personal choice. His primary duty was to persuade the princess to take up her official role in Ashur and to marry her, twin objectives that he was expected to achieve by using any and every means within his power. His father had made it clear that the need for peace must overrule every other consideration. Any natural reluctance to agree to a celibate marriage in a society where extramarital sex was regarded as a serious evil did not even weigh in the balance.
I’m really not into sex, she had confided and, like any man, he was intrigued. Since she could not make such an announcement and still be an innocent he could only assume that she had suffered from the attentions of at least one clumsy lover. Far from being an amateur in the same field, Raja surveyed her with a gleam of sensual speculation in his dark eyes. He was convinced that given the right opportunity he could change her mind on that score.
‘Well, what do you think?’ Ruby pressed edgily as she rose to her feet again.
‘I will consider your proposition,’ the prince conceded non-committally, springing upright to look down at her with hooded, dark eyes.
His ability to conceal his thoughts from his lean, dark features infuriated Ruby, who had always found the male sex fairly easy to read. For once she had not a clue what a man might be thinking and her ignorance intimidated and frustrated her. Like the truly stunning dark good looks that probably turned heads wherever he went, the prince’s reticence was one of his most noticeable attributes. He had the skills of a natural-born diplomat, she conceded, grudgingly recognising how well equipped he was to deal with opposing viewpoints and sensitive political issues.
‘I thought time was a real matter of concern,’ Ruby could not help remarking, irritated by his silence.
A highly attractive grin slanted his wide sensual mouth. ‘If you give me your phone number I will contact you later this evening with my answer.’
Ruby gave him that information and walked out to the front door. As she began to open it he rested a hand on her shoulder, staying her, and she glanced up from below her lashes, eyes questioning. Hermione growled. Raja ignored the animal, sliding his hand lightly down Ruby’s arm and up again, his handsome head lowering, his proud gaze glittering as bright as diamonds from below the fringe of his dense black lashes. She stopped breathing, moving, even thinking, trapped in the humming silence while a buzz of excitement unlike anything she had ever experienced trailed along her nerve endings like a taunting touch.
His breath warmed her cheek and she focused on his strong sensual mouth, the surge of heat and warmth between her thighs going crazy. Desire was shooting through her veins like adrenaline and she didn’t understand it, couldn’t control it either, any more than she could defy the temptation to rest up against him, palms spread across his chest to absorb the muscular strength of his powerful frame and remain upright. Eyes wide, she stared up at him, trembling with anticipation and he did not disappoint her. On the passage to her mouth his lips grazed the pulse quivering in her neck and an almost violent shimmy of sensation shot down through her slight length. His hand sliding down to her waist to steady her, he circled her mouth with a kiss as hot as a blowtorch. The heat of his passion sent a shock wave of sexual response spiralling down straight into her pelvis.
Raja only lifted his head again when Hermione’s noisy assault on his ankles became too violent to ignore. ‘Call off your dog,’ he urged her huskily.
Grateful for the excuse to move, Ruby wasted no time in capturing her snarling pet and depositing her back in the living room. Her hands were shaking. Nervous perspiration beaded her upper lip. Ruby was in serious shock from finally feeling what a man had never made her feel before. She was still light-headed from the experience, and her temper surged when she caught Raja studying her intently. Consumed by a sense of foolishness, she was afraid that he might have noticed that she was trembling and her condemnation was shrill. ‘You had no right to touch me!’
His lustrous dark eyes glinted like rapier blades over her angry face. ‘I had no right but I was very curious,’ he countered with a studied insolence that pushed a tide of colour into her cheeks. ‘And you were worth the risk.’
A moment later he was gone and she closed the door, only just resisting the urge to slam it noisily. She was still as wound up as a clock spring. Men didn’t speak to Ruby in that condescending tone and they rarely, if ever, offered her provocation. Invariably they tried to please her and utilised every ploy from flattery to gifts to achieve that end. Raja, on the other hand, had subjected her to a cool measuring scrutiny and had remained resolutely unimpressed and in control while she fell apart and she could only hate him for that: she had shown weakness and susceptibility, he had not.
Her phone rang at eleven when she was getting ready for bed.
‘It’s Raja.’ His dark drawl was very businesslike in tone and delivery. ‘I hope you’re prepared to move quickly on this as time is of the essence.’
Taut with strain and with her teeth gritted, for it was an effort to be polite to him with her pride still stinging from that kiss that she had failed to rebuff, Ruby said stiffly, ‘That depends on whether or not you’re prepared to stand by my terms.’
‘You have my agreement. While I make arrangements for our marriage to take place here—’
‘Like soon…now? And we’re to get married here?’ Ruby interrupted, unable to swallow back her astonishment.
‘It would be safer and more straightforward if the deed were already done before you even set foot in Ashur because our respective representatives will very likely quarrel about the when and the where and the how of our wedding for months on end,’ the prince informed her wryly. ‘In those circumstances, staging a quiet ceremony here in the UK makes the most sense.’
Infuriatingly at home giving orders and impervious to her tart comments, Raja advised her to resign from her job immediately and start packing. Ruby stayed out of bed purely to tell Stella that she was getting married. Her friend was stunned and less moved than Ruby by stories of Ashur’s current instability and economic hardship.
‘You’re not thinking about what you’re doing,’ Stella exclaimed, her pretty face troubled. ‘You’ve let this prince talk you round. He made you feel bad but, let’s face it, your life is here. What’s your father’s country got to do with you?’
Only forty-eight hours earlier, Ruby would have agreed with that sentiment. But