The Sheikh's Jewel (10 page)

Like a whip he flung around to face the guard, putting Amber behind him. ‘What is this?’ he demanded four times over, in different dialects. ‘Answer me, why do you terrify my wife this way?’ Again he said it in another few dialects—all of Amber’s home region.

The man never so much as glanced their way; he answered only by moving the rifle inward, towards the dining table.

Amber’s chest heaved against his back as she tried to control her fear.

Three men followed him into the room, bearing a more substantial meal than they’d eaten yesterday, or at breakfast, three full choices of meal plus teas, juice or water. The men set the table with exquisite care, as if he and Amber were honoured guests at a six-star hotel. Then they held out the seats, playing the perfect waiters—only the maître d’ was holding an assault rifle on them.

Harun stood his ground, shielding Amber with his body. ‘Move away from the chairs. Don’t come near my wife. Stop looking at her or I will find who you are after this and kill you with my bare hands.’

After a moment, with a look of deep respect the head guard bowed, and waved the others back. When they were out, he took several steps back himself before he stopped, staring at the furthest wall from their captives.

Harun led Amber to her chair and seated her himself, blocking her from their view so they could see no part of her semi-exposed body. ‘Now get out,’ he barked.

He bowed again, and left the room.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, hanging onto his hand when he would have moved.

‘There’s nothing to thank me for.’ Some emotion he couldn’t define was coursing through him, as if he were flying with his own wings. He didn’t trust it.

‘I can’t take much more of this—this terrifying silence,’ she muttered, her free hand clenching and unclenching. ‘Why did he point the rifle at me? What did I do?’

Harun had his own ideas, but he doubted saying,
Their objective is achieved, Amber, you ran straight to me,
would help now, or bring her any comfort. She might even begin to suspect him.

Instead of sitting, he released her hand, and wrapped his arms around her from behind. ‘I know I may not seem like much help to you in this situation, Amber, but I swear I’ll protect you with my life if need be.’

She twisted around so her face tilted up to his. ‘You know that’s not true. Last night, I told you how glad I am you’re here…and you saw, you must have seen that…’ Her lips pushed hard together.

It was time; he knew it, could feel it; but still he would give her a gift first. ‘Yes, I saw that you desire me, how you loved my touch.’ With a gentle smile, he touched her burning face. ‘And you had to see how much I desire you, Amber. If it hadn’t been for the guards, we’d have made love last night.’

She said nothing, but her eyes spoke encyclopaedic volumes of doubt. ‘You said my name. I wasn’t sure if you meant it.’

In the half-question, and the deep shadows in her eyes, he saw the depth of the damage he’d done to her by his neglect. She had no idea at all; she’d never once seen his desire until last night, and she even doubted it had been for her.

It seemed he’d hidden his feelings too well—and at this point he doubted just showing her would be enough. He had to open up, starting now.

‘I did mean it, Amber. My dreams were of you. My dreams have been of you for a long time.’ Taking her hand again, he lifted it to his mouth and pressed a lingering kiss to her palm. When she didn’t snatch her hand away, but drew in a quick, slightly trembling breath, he let his lips roam to her wrist. ‘Sandalwood honey,’ he murmured against her skin. ‘The most exquisite taste I’ve known.’

She didn’t answer him, except in the tips of her fingers that caressed his face, then retreated. So tentative still, she was afraid to give anything away. Unsure if, even now, he’d walk away again and leave her humiliated. He’d damaged her that much through the years, which meant he had the
power
to hurt her—and that meant more than any clumsy words of reassurance she could give.

It was time to give back, to be the one to reach out and risk rejection.

So hard to start, but he’d already done that; and now, to his surprise, the words flowed more easily. ‘You need to know now. I haven’t been with any woman since we married. I kept my vows, as difficult as that’s been at times.’

Her look of doubt grew, but she said nothing.

He smiled at her. ‘It’s true, Amber. I didn’t want a replacement. I wanted you.’

The little frown between her brows deepened. ‘Then why…?’

Walking around to face her, he took both hands in his and lifted her to her feet. ‘I refused to continue last night because our audience made it clear they were there watching us. I’m not a man who likes applause and cheering on, and I didn’t think you’d want your first time to be here, where any of them could see us.’

‘No, I wouldn’t. Thank you for thinking of it,’ she murmured, her gaze dropping to his mouth, and his whole body heated with a burst of flame at the look in her eyes. ‘But I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me before—oh.’ She nodded slowly. ‘Because of what I said to my father.’

‘I’m not Alim. I’ll never be like Alim.’ She had to know that now. He’d rather burn like this the rest of his life than be his brother’s replacement in her eyes, or in her bed.

‘I know who you are.’ And still she stared at his mouth with open yearning that made him define the alien, flying feeling—he was so
glad
to be alive, to be the man she desired.

Then her head tilted, and he mentally prepared himself: she did that when she wanted to know something he wouldn’t want to answer. ‘Why do you think you can never compare to Alim? I barely knew him. You must have known that; he left for the racing circuit days after I met him, and then ran from the country as soon as he could leave the hopspital. He never wanted me, and you say you did. So why didn’t you try for me?’

As far as hard questions went, that was number one. He felt himself tensing, ready to give the shrug that was his defence mechanism, to walk away—

Trouble was, there was nowhere to go, no place of escape. And he knew what she was going to say before she said, very softly, ‘You promised to talk to me.’

At that moment he almost loathed her. He’d never broken a promise in his life, never walked away in dishonour; but trying to put his disjointed thoughts together was like trying to catch grains of sand in a desert storm. What did she want him to say?

‘Just tell me the truth,’ she said, just as quietly as before, smiling at him. As if she’d seen his inner turbulence and wanted to calm it.

Nothing would do that. There was no way out this time. So he said it, hard and fast. ‘I don’t compare to him. I never have. What was the point in trying for you when you wanted a man that wasn’t me? I was never anything but a replacement for him, with Fadi and with you. I always knew that.’

CHAPTER NINE

I
F
THERE
was anything she’d expected Harun to say, it wasn’t that. She’d hoped to hear a complaint about his family, or about how he’d lived in the shadow of a famous, heroic brother—but never that calmly spoken announcement, like a fact long accepted.
I don’t compare to him. I never have.

A sense of foreboding touched Amber’s heart, a premonition of the hardships facing her if she chose to spend her life with this man.
How would I have ended up, had Alim been my brother, if I’d lived in the shadow of a famous sibling and ended up taking on all the responsibilities he didn’t want?

The thought came from deep inside her, from the girl who’d never really felt like a princess, but a commodity for sale to the highest bidder. And she spoke before she knew what she wanted to say. ‘That’s another big assumption to make, considering my total acquaintance with Alim has been five days, and I’ve known you three years.’

He flicked her another resentful glance, but she wouldn’t back down. He had nowhere to go, and his honour meant more than anything. He’d answer her, if she waited long enough.

Lucky she wasn’t holding her breath; she’d be dead by the time he finally said, ‘I know what I am in your eyes, Amber. And I know what Alim is.’

She frowned. ‘One sentence made in grief and not even knowing you, and that’s it? You just write me off your things to do list?
Marry her and ignore her because she insulted me once when she didn’t know I was listening? I don’t care if she apologised.
’

Another look, fuming and filled with frustration; how he hated to talk. But finally he said, ‘I’m not Alim.’

By now she felt almost as angry as him, but some instinct told her he was deliberately pushing her there to make her stop talking to him. So she’d keep control if it killed her. ‘That sounds like a statement someone else told you that you’re repeating. And don’t tell me Fadi ever said it to you. He adored you.’ After a long stretch of silence, she said it for him. ‘How old were you the first time your parents told you that Alim was better than you?’

The one-shoulder shrug came, but she didn’t let herself care. So he said it, again with that quiet acceptance. ‘I don’t remember a time when they didn’t say it.’

He wasn’t angry, fighting or drowning in self-pity. He believed it, and that was all.

Bam.
Like that she felt the whack of a hammer, snatching her breath, thickening her throat and making her eyes sting. His own parents had done that to him? No wonder he couldn’t believe in her; he didn’t know how to believe in himself. And the truth that she’d pushed away for years whispered to her inside her mind, why she’d fought to push him out of his isolation and to notice her.
I love him.

Every messed-up, silent, heroic, inch of him. He’d crept into her soul from the time he’d marched away with his men, and returned a hero, hating the adulation. She’d been amazed when he’d handed everything back to Alim without wanting a thing. She’d thought him so humble. Now she knew the truth: he didn’t think he deserved the adoration of the nation; that was Alim’s portion. He’d been in the shadows so long he found the limelight terrifying.

Don’t you see, Amber, I’m doing everything I can do?

The words he’d given her in rejection of creating a child with her finally made horrible sense…and she knew if she pushed him to tell her everything, he’d never forgive her.

‘Before our wedding, my father told me that the lion draws obvious admiration, but you need to look deeper to see the tiger’s quiet strength. I’ve known that was true for a long time now,’ she said softly, and touched his face. Warm and soft, not the unyielding granite she’d found repellent and fascinating at once; he was a man, just a damaged, honourable, limping, beloved hero, and she loved him.

He stared at her, looked hard and dazed at once. He shook his head, and her hand fell—but she refused to leave it like that. She touched him again.
‘Habib numara,’
she whispered. ‘I’ve wanted you for so long.’

He kept staring at her as if she were a spirit come to torture him—yes, she could see that was exactly what he was thinking. He needed time to believe even in this small miracle. So she smiled at him, letting her desire show without shame or regret.

After a long time, he took her by the hands.
‘Mee johara,’
he said huskily.
My jewel.

Her heart almost burst with the words, pounding with a joy she’d never known.

Don’t hesitate, or he’ll think the worst.
So she wound her arms around his neck. ‘I’ve been alone so long, waiting for you,’ she whispered so softly only he would hear it. ‘Kiss me and call me your jewel again.’

But instead, the hard bewilderment filled his eyes again. ‘You’ve waited for me?’

‘So long,’ she murmured against his ear, and let her lips move against his skin. She felt him shudder, and rejoiced in it. ‘You fascinate me with the way you can make me hate you and want you and love you—’

He stilled. Completely. And though she waited, he didn’t ask her if she meant it. She felt his pain radiating from him, the complete denial of what she’d said because he didn’t dare believe, not yet. Lost in a life of expectation and self-denial, in a world where his own parents didn’t seem to love him, at least in comparison to Alim, how could he believe?

In a life where both of them had hidden their true selves from self-protection, one of them had to step into the light…and at least she’d known her family loved her. For once, she was the strong one; she had to lead the way.

‘I love you, Harun. I have for a long time.’ She pulled back, her hands framing his face as she smiled with all the love she felt. ‘It began when I saw you march away to war, and I kept wondering if I’d see you again. I heard all the stories of your courage, leadership and self-sacrifice, and was so proud to be your woman. And when you came back and refused to talk about it, but just kept working to help your people, I began to believe I’d found my mate for life.’

His frown grew deeper with every word she said. ‘Before we married.’ The question was hidden inside the incredulous statement. He didn’t believe her.

With difficulty, Amber reined in her temper and said, ‘I never looked at you before we were engaged—but once we were, I couldn’t stop looking at you. But on our wedding night, I thought you didn’t want me at all. I thought you hated me. I was only nineteen, I was told nothing but to follow your lead…I didn’t know what to do.’

At last his features softened a little. ‘So you followed my lead, all these years.’

She murmured, ‘Pretending to despise you when all I wanted was to be in your life, in your bed. I cried myself to sleep that night.’ Inwardly her pride was rebelling more with every word she spoke, but the relief at finally getting the words out was greater. Besides, pride wouldn’t help either of them in this situation. Neither would useless worry over who heard their conversation—given the people they were, that would happen no matter their location. ‘If I’d known why you avoided me…’

He moved an inch closer, his features taut with expectation, and she exulted in the evidence that he wanted her. ‘What would you have done?’

‘This,’ she whispered, and kissed him.

It was a clumsy attempt, a bare fastening of her lips on his, and she made a frustrated sound. She felt his lips curve in a little smile as he put his hands to her hips and drew her closer, and took over, deepening the kiss, arousing her with lips and hands until she forgot everything but him.

Let your husband show you the way.
For years she’d felt nothing but contempt for her mother’s advice—it had only led her to utter loneliness and self-hate. But now Harun showed her the way, and the joy spread through her like quicksilver. He had one hand in her hair, another caressing her waist while he kissed her, and she found her body taking over her will. She moaned and kissed him even deeper, moving against him and the fire grew. Oh, she loved his touch, the feel of his body sliding on hers—

Were they in bed? She didn’t remember moving her feet, or landing on the mattress; his hand was on her breast again and it was that knife-blade touch of exquisite perfection…

Then there was only the soft swish of air on her skin, and she made a mewing sound of protest before she could stop it. ‘Harun?’ she faltered, seeing him standing beside the bed. ‘Did I do something wrong…?’

‘No…something very right.’ He finished pulling the curtains around the bed, and turned to smile at her. ‘It will only be wrong if you tell me you want to stop.’

The black blankness was gone from his eyes; the ugly memory had been chased away, and by her. She felt her mouth curving; her eyes must be alight with the happiness and desire consuming her. ‘After waiting three years for you, do you think I could?’ No matter who was there, or why they’d come to this place, or what happened in the past, they were here now. He was all hers at last. ‘Now, Harun. Please.’

And she held out her arms to him.