The Sheikh's Hesitant Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 7) (19 page)

His dark eyes were wide with worry, drawing her into their depth as if he were trying to mesmerize her, trying to capture again with a mere look.

Rachel smiled weakly at Zarif. "It did to me, too, Zarif. You know that, don't you?"

Zarif sighed as if filled with sudden relief at hearing her admission.

"Well, then. What is there to worry about?" His grasp eased, and he shifted closer. She felt his closeness. "We're together." He gazed around the terrace and toward the palace. "This is your home. For as long as you want it to be. You know that, don't you?"

His voice was gentle, its deep, even vibration filling her with the beginnings of reassurance.

Rachel looked at him. She nodded. "I understand that, Zarif. You've made me feel very welcome."

"I hope I've made you feel more than just welcome, Rachel," he replied.

She could only keep him at bay for so long, she told herself. This close, he was irresistible. There was no need to fight these feelings, any longer.

Zarif's head edged closer to her, and she knew he was going to kiss her.

But then she heard footsteps and Zarif sat upright looking past Rachel's shoulder.

"Irina," she heard Zarif say with obvious irritation. Rachel turned and saw the figure of the servant standing at the terrace doors. Why did Irina have that satisfied smile on her face?
 

"Sorry to interrupt, Sheikh. But you have a visitor."

Rachel saw Zarif frown as he stood up. "Who?"

Irina glanced at Rachel as she uttered the next words. And when Rachel heard who had come for a visit, all the certainty she had struggled so hard to achieve this morning suddenly evaporated.

 
"Mistress Alana is here, Sheikh. She said it was about your meeting with her yesterday."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"You had a meeting with Alana, yesterday?" Rachel asked Zarif, almost unable to contain her disbelief. The servant, Irina, had left, having successfully delivered her news.
 

Zarif and his former bride-to-be, Alana had been together the day before?

Rachel and Zarif were still on the terrace. Zarif had insisted Rachel hear him out, listen to his explanation for the meeting with Alana. But, Rachel wasn't sure she was in any mood to listen to Zarif. What had he been doing with Alana? Why had he even felt the need to be with the woman he claimed had almost destroyed him? It didn't make any sense.
 

Rachel stood with her back to Zarif. Her hands were resting on the balustrade. The truth was she needed to lean against something otherwise, she was sure she was going to fall over. She felt as if she had been covered with a bucket of cold water. All the warmth and sincerity Zarif had poured on her had been washed away with the harsh realization that perhaps Zarif and Alana were still an item, still had something they hadn't quite finished.

Rachel felt Zarif's hand against her arm, but she pushed it firmly away from her. She didn't want him touching her, didn't know whether she should believe anything he wanted to say to her, right now.

"Rachel, you must listen to me. I can explain," he said.

Rachel crossed her arms tightly, desperately needing to feel protected. The way she had felt only a short while ago; the way Zarif had made her believe was true.

Rachel saw him lean against the balustrade and gaze at her. There was urgency, even fear in that gaze. She was momentarily shocked by the expression on his face. She hadn't seen that look on his features before. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Rachel, it's not what you think," Zarif said. His voice cracked with urgent emotion.

Rachel turned her head to him and glared at him. "What am I thinking, Zarif? Tell me."

Zarif's brows furrowed and his shoulders slumped. He sighed. "Your thinking I was with Alana yesterday for all the wrong reasons."

"She was your fiance, Zarif. What am I supposed to think? Is she still your fiance?"

He scowled as if the mere thought had produced a swell of revulsion in him. The intensity of his reaction took her momentarily by surprise, but she quickly regained her composure. She wasn't going to let this ruin everything she had worked so hard to achieve. It wasn't too late to undo what had been done. Was it?

"Don't be ridiculous, Rachel. You know that's not true."

"Isn't it?"

"Of course it isn't. I told you. It's over between me and Alana. It has been for a long time."

Rachel sighed and gazed out across the garden which now seemed the sight of lies and deceptions, instead of what she had thought before. The place where it had all started for her and Zarif. Now it was coming to an end. Did she feel relieved? Was it time to just go?

Before she did anything she needed to know the reality of the situation. One last time.

Rachel turned to Zarif. "Tell me the truth, Zarif. Did you see Alana yesterday?"

Zarif peered into Rachel's eyes, and she could see grim determination there. He sighed. "I did see her," he admitted.

Almost with an uncontrollable impulse, Rachel moved suddenly away from Zarif, intent upon getting back into the palace, but he stretched out a hand and held her by the arm.

Rachel gazed down at his hand, feeling the tightness of his grip, the panic in the fingers that curled around her flesh. He glanced down at his hand, and she felt his grip soften. "Please. Here me out," he pleaded.

"Why should I?"

Zarif leaned closer. "Because you're about to make a mistake. A terrible mistake."

"What exactly am I about to do, Zarif?" she asked him defiantly. She felt her jaw tighten, her throat suddenly dry. Emotion surged inside her, an unwelcome presence right at this moment. Her mouth felt dry and she looked away from him, determined that he shouldn't see how she was feeling.

But Zarif moved in front of her, and she felt his finger beneath her chin. He lifted her face to him, and she saw his gaze was fierce, dark and resolute. "You're thinking it might be best that you leave. You think I've done something wrong. I deserve to be punished."

Zarif breathed out heavily. "You're probably right. I do deserve to be punished."

Rachel looked at him, her brows furrowing with surprise. "What do you mean? I don't want to do that. These past few weeks have been wonderful, Zarif."

Zarif smiled, but she could she still see the shadow of worry in his gaze.
 

"But, maybe you still have some things to sort out in your own life," Rachel said. "It's obvious you and Alana have unfinished business to attend to."

"Your wrong, Rachel. Alana and I are history. I told you that out there," he said gesturing toward the garden. "And I meant what I said."

"Then why were you with her yesterday?" Rachel asked. "That of all days," she added her voice cracking with emotion.

Zarif's features darkened. That last statement had cut into him. She could see that, but she didn't regret saying it, because it was true. That day of all days, Zarif shouldn't have been with his former lover. Not for any reason.

Zarif sighed and rolled his eyes. His gaze settled on Rachel. He paused a few moments and she could see the war in his eyes, the desperate search for the right words.

Finally, he spoke. "I wanted to see Alana to explain to her what had happened." He paused and then added. "Between you and I."

Rachel stared at Zarif. "You told her about us?" she said incredulously.

Zarif nodded. "I needed to. There's nothing more important to me right now."

Rachel didn't know whether to be angry or happy after hearing those last words. He'd told Alana about her? What had he said? What had been the other woman's reaction?

"What exactly did you tell her, Zarif?"

Zarif reached across and took hold of both Rachel's hands. His skin felt hot, his grasp gentle but firm. He breathed out, and she saw the color of his face change as emotion flushed his skin.

Zarif's gaze fixed upon her. Sensation twisted in her core, her heart quickening at the way his eyes were burrowing deep into her being. Into her soul. Why did she already know what he was about to say to her?

"I told Alana the truth, Rachel. That I love you," he murmured. He moved closer, his voice steady and filled with conviction. "That I will always love you. That you are mine, and will be forever."
 

The words sank into her, taking hold of her, taking possession of her. She felt the world shift beneath her feet, felt the air around her suddenly feel warmer.
 

Zarif's gaze was fixed upon her, a burning intensity filling his dark eyes. She felt the breath ease out of her body. Confusing waves of battling emotions swept through her body. Her mind was filled with a tangle of contradicting thoughts. She felt like she wanted to step away from all of this. But something elemental, something primal, kept her right where she was.

Rachel tried to turn away from him, but she couldn't shift her face away from his possessive gaze. "Zarif, I don't know what to say."

"You know it's true, Rachel. And I know you feel the same way about me." He breathed softly. "I knew it last night. And I think you did, too."

Rachel lowered her head but, once again he lifted her chin with a finger, insisting that she look at him. She tried to change the subject, anything to cure this feeling which had overtaken her. "You have a visitor, Zarif. This isn't the time for a conversation like this," she said.

Zarif shook his head. "On the contrary. This is exactly the right moment for me to tell you how I feel, Rachel. To tell you what I must have." He gazed into her eyes. "And what I want is you, Rachel. He paused and then added: "Forever."

The word made her heart race, caused her pulse to thunder, made every muscle in her body soften. Joy and fear began to war instantly within her. She peered at him. He was utterly and completely sincere. She could see the hope and worry on his face. He knew this was a moment of truth, a moment that called for decisive action.

And so did she.

Rachel gazed at Zarif. His head dipped forward, and he kissed her, and she felt the familiar wave of sensation as truth took hold of her yet again. As before, the rush of sensation calmed her soul, drove away all her fears, and let hope rise within her spirit. She savored the delicious beauty of his kiss, the taste of his lips, the touch of his fingers against her chin.

His lips parted from hers, and she gazed into his eyes, feeling him so close now, seeing the love in those dark pools. Zarif smiled gently at her, and she couldn't contain the impulse to smile back at him.

His eyes narrowed, and his tongue traced a slow line along his lower lip. She felt a sudden impulse to bite that lower lip, taste its sweetness. But then he peered into her eyes and when he spoke his voice was tender and low.

"Rachel. I have something I want to ask you," he murmured. "And I think you know what it is."

Rachel met his gaze, unable to stop looking at him. She felt his breath against her skin, inhaled the scent of him. She felt utterly and completely a part of him now, totally joined with him in this moment. Every doubt had been swept away. All that was left was this moment.

When Zarif spoke his voice was filled with tender hope. "Rachel. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

The words seemed almost unreal, almost as if they had come from another world. And, in truth, they had, Rachel realized. They had been spoken to her in this amazing place, which was like something out of a dream. But, there was nothing unreal about the love she could see in Zarif's eyes. Nor in the love she had heard in his voice.

Rachel saw a flicker of concern in his eyes. Did he doubt her? Did he really believe that she would ever refuse him?

"Well?" he asked, barely disguised urgency in his tone.

Rachel nodded and smiled at Zarif. "I will marry you, Zarif," she said disbelieving how the words sounded coming out of her mouth. But she was saying them.

Zarif's face lit up. "You will?"

Rachel nodded. "I will," she said again, this time knowing that it was real, that she could actually believe what she was telling this man. The sheikh she had fallen in love with; the sheikh she had given herself to; the sheikh who had claimed her as his own true love.

Zarif wrapped his arms around Rachel, hugging her so hard she thought she'd be crushed. "I love you, Rachel. I adore you, my love," she heard him say in muffled tones as he held her.

"And I love you, too, Zarif," Rachel said.
 

Zarif shifted and held Rachel's face in front of his own, gazing deeply into her eyes. His mouth crashed down upon hers, and he kissed her like never before, with a passion that consumed her, confirming everything she had ever believed about him. Their passion for each other was eternal. It would last forever. She knew that, now. She felt it in every part of her being. Just as she had done last night when they had been joined as one.

They kissed for what seemed like an eternity.

They had just begun to end the kiss when Rachel heard a voice, one that was unfamiliar, but one she instinctively knew the identity of.

"It looks like I'm interrupting something," the woman's voice said.

Rachel turned and looked toward the sound of the voice. Two women stood there. The servant, Irina stood erect and stiff, her hands held in front of her, as always clasped tight. There was shock in the servants gaze as she looked obviously disbelieving at the sight of Rachel in Zarif's arms. Irina glanced nervously at the woman who stood next to her.

Alana was undeniably attractive, Rachel said to herself as she and Zarif parted from their embrace to face the two women. Alana had dark hair, elegant features, a long, full body and she was dressed in an expensive looking dark outfit that accentuated every one of her curves. There was arrogance and defiance in that body, Rachel. Everything Zarif had told him about Alana was confirmed in what Rachel was seeing right now.
 

Alana was staring at Rachel with barely hidden contempt.

Zarif rested an arm behind Rachel's back and started to lead them both toward Alana and Irina.

"Alana. Nice of you to call. I'd like you to meet Rachel," Zarif said firmly.