His father had laughed at him, and so had she—the slut who had ultimately been responsible for the death of his mother. The official cause of her death had been pneumonia, but Arni knew better. His gentle, beautiful mother had died of the wounds inflicted on her heart and her pride by a tramp who hadn’t been fit to breathe the same air. He loathed the kind of woman his father’s lover had been—greedy, sexually available to any man who had the price of her in his pocket.He had been reluctant to return to Ralapur at first, when Anmol had succeeded their father, but Anmol had persisted, and out of love for his brother, Arni had finally given in. Even now, he wasn’t sure if he had done the right thing.The boy who had walked away from a life that held the status of being his father’s second son into an uncertain future where he would have nothing but his own abilities, had returned to the place of his birth a very wealthy man, who commanded respect not only in his own country but througho
Orla shivered. It was never a good idea to challenge fate. She knew that. This was a man who positively oozed a raw sexuality that had the air around him thrumming with male hubris and testosterone—a man who, without her being able to do a single thing about it, had gotten under her carefully constructed guard and forced her body to acknowledge his effect on it.He wanted her, Arni admitted reluctantly. He wanted her very badly.Her full-length cream skirt, worn with a round-necked sleeved top, and the fine long cream silk scarf she was wearing certainly stood out amongst the jewel colors most of the other female guests were wearing, giving her an angelic air despite the darkness of her hair. She looked ethereal and fragile, but there had been nothing ethereal about the look he had caught her giving him a few seconds ago: the look of a woman whose sensuality was aroused and clamoring for satisfaction.The courtyard was almost empty now; the other guests had made their way to their roo
Orla didn’t stop to look over her shoulder to see if he was still watching her. Once she was inside her room with her door locked, she leaned back against it, unable to move whilst cold shock and nausea filled her. She started to shiver. What on earth had she done? And, more importantly, why had she done it?How had she let that happen, after all these years—years during which she had worked so assiduously to make sure that it did not? Why, when she had so easily resisted the sexual appeal of so many other men, had she behaved like that with this one? What was so special about him that he had so easily broken through the wall she had built around her own sexuality, setting it free to make its demands heard?Panic was clawing at her like a wild animal desperate to escape captivity. She couldn’t allow her sexuality to have its voice. She couldn’t allow it to exist, full stop. She knew that. Her great-aunt had warned her often enough about what was likely to happen to her—the degradation
Arni admitted that he had made a foolish decision to position himself here in the shadows on the pathway where they had met earlier, but he had long known that women appreciated such touches.And he certainly wanted her to relish his touch as much as he intended to relish touching her, he admitted, grimacing wryly at his own mental double entendre.Where was she? The festivities would be starting soon, and he had planned to cajole her away before they did, to somewhere rather more private. The courtyard was already filled with wedding guests, their voices and laughter almost drowning out the sound of the musicians. The smell of food spiced the evening air, and children ran giddily in and out of the groups of adults, giggling with excitement. Orla had almost reached the point on the path where she had heard him say that fateful "excuse me" when she was hailed by Nakul, Dayita’s cousin and the fourth member of their close-knit group of friends."Orla"—there you are. I was just coming to
The rush of sensation pounding through her veins wasn’t just a mixture of anger and fear; Orla knew that. But she still froze into rigid rejection when his mouth covered hers. Angrily, he nipped at her lower lip, shocking the rigidity out of her body and replacing it with a primeval angry heat of her own that came out of nowhere, compelling her to respond to him with equal ferocity.How could such blatant savagery be so erotic? How could she feel as though something inside her was breaking apart and consuming her? How could she be standing on her tiptoes to take as much of his punishing kiss as she could get?He freed one of her wrists to slide his hand into her hair, his fingers splayed against her scalp to hold her head still as he punished her mouth with kisses of such sensual savagery that they were almost a form of torture. a torture she never wanted to end.The raw sound of their increasingly laboured breath broke the calm silence of the gardens with a raw sexuality that demande
Arni was a man who prided himself on his self-control. It was that control that ensured he would never repeat his father’s folly in allowing his desire for an unworthy and avaricious woman to rule and humiliate him. Arni could give in to his physical desires, but he must always be the one in control, not the other way around.No woman had ever been allowed to intrude into his thoughts when he did not want her to, and yet now here he was, wasting his valuable mental energy thinking about a woman he despised. The mere fact that she was there in his thoughts, occupying space that rightly belonged to far more important matters, angered him far more than the unsatisfied ache of the desire she had left him with.Why was he bothering to think about her? She’d probably thought she was being extremely clever, that by offering and then withdrawing she would get far more from him than if she had simply gone to bed with him there and then, but Arni did not allow anyone to manipulate him to their o
She might have been royal, but he might have been a highly qualified interior designer, who had trained with one of the most respected international firms, and whose own work was very highly thought of. She had very high standards and took pride in the excellence of her work, she reminded herself stoutly. She was a professional interior designer, yes. But she was also the daughter of a woman who had sold her body to men for money to feed her drug habit. Where did that place her on the scale of what was and what was not acceptable? Did she really need to ask herself that question? Of course she didn’t. The burn of the shame she had known growing up because of her mother was still as raw now as it had been then.It hadn’t just been her great-aunt who had rammed home to her the message that her mother’s lifestyle made Orla unacceptable and unwanted in more respectable people’s social circles.After her mother had died and her great-aunt had taken her in, Orla had had to change schools. I
The slate-grey gaze flicked over her and rested expressionlessly on her face. He must have recognized her even if he wasn’t showing it.Karan stepped forward to shake the other man’s hand, saying to him jovially, "Arni." I’ve brought you Orla, just as I promised. She’s desperate for you to give her this contract so that she can show you what she can do. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed by what she can offer.’Orla squirmed inwardly over Karan's unfortunate choice of words and all that might be read into them by a cynical, sexually experienced man who had every reason to believe he already knew what she had to offer."I can’t stay," Karan was continuing. I’ve got a meeting I have to attend, so I’m going to have to leave you to discuss things without me. However, as I’ve already told you, I’ve seen Orla’s work, and she has my personal recommendation and endorsement.’He had gone before she could stop him and tell him that she had changed her mind. That she wouldn’t want this contrac
He moved suddenly, turned to her, and gripped her arms; she glimpsed the desperation in his eyes as he dragged her against his chest. "I will do whatever it takes to win you back, Kalila." "You are my wife, the love of my life, and I won’t let you go." His warm breath fanning the curls that framed her face, he pressed his lips to her temple, his eyes briefly closing as if in pain."I have told my father to name his brother Sulim as the interim ruler of Qubbah in the event of his dying before Hazem comes of age." Kate stared at him, shocked beyond words. "But... but why?" she finally stumbled.I thought that you were to rule until Hazem was older. "You are the King’s only son, and it is your duty." Ahsan shook his head. "My first duty is to my wife, and my father agrees." Even if he did not, I would still be here for you."Don't you understand, Kalila?" he asked urgently. "You are more important to me than Qubbah, my father, everything." You, me, and Hazem are a family, and the only thin
The still silence in the garden that followed his astounding statement was broken by the piercingly sweet song of a blackbird. Kate licked her suddenly dry lips, her heart beating so fast she was sure it would explode. "I don’t understand.""It’s quite simple." He sounded impatient and stared at her haughtily. But to her amazement, streaks of dull color highlighted his cheekbones, and his eyes veered from hers as if he were afraid to meet her gaze. "I love you, Kate."Her rebuttal was fierce and immediate. "No, you don’t.""I should have known you would want to argue about it, Kalila." A little of his tension left him, and his smile stole her breath."You don’t love me," she said again. It was probably some cruel trick, and she had more sense than to be fooled. "You married me for Hazem." You love Farrah. Malika said so.Malika said a lot of things, most of them untrue. Ahsan’s voice was suddenly harsh."But not the things she said about me," Kate said thickly. "My mother was a prosti
The blue sky was dotted with cotton wool clouds, and the warm breeze carried a scent of lavender and old-fashioned roses. There was no place on earth more beautiful than Ingledean on a spring day, Kate mused—except an oasis in the middle of the desert, where palm trees provided shade from the scorching sun and an azure pool glinted beneath a cloudless sky.She had been home for a month—although Ingledean no longer felt like home without Hazem. The image of his huge brown eyes and impish smile caused the familiar agonizing pain in her chest, and she bit down hard on her lip, tasted blood, and cursed the tears that slid unchecked down her face. She couldn’t cry forever. Somehow she was going to have to find the strength to move on, pick up the threads of her life, or maybe make a new one, far away from Ingledean and all its memories. But since she had left Qubbah, a terrible lassitude had settled on her, and she could not plan anything when the only two people she loved were far away on
In less than an hour, she was expected to attend the lavish dinner organized in honor of King Kabir’s recovery and his return as supreme ruler of Qubbah. And somehow she was going to have to do so without revealing that she was breaking up inside, which Kate acknowledged despairingly as she stared in the mirror at her paper-white face and red-rimmed eyes.When she first returned to the palace after her explosive confrontation with Malika, she locked herself in her dressing room and recalled, in stunned disbelief, everything the young Arab woman had told her. Could it be true? Had Ahsan always intended to divorce her once he’d gained custody of Hazem and marry his beautiful advisor?She did not know how long she’d sat there, but eventually her maid had knocked on the door and reminded her that it was time to prepare for the banquet. She should have made the excuse that she was ill—no one who saw her pallor would fail to believe her. But the steely backbone of pride that had seen her th
Despite the warmth of the early-evening sunshine, Kate shivered. "You’re talking nonsense," she said firmly, striving to sound confident despite the sudden lurch of her heart. She was perfectly aware of why Ahsan had married her, but he had given no hint that he wanted a divorce. Ahsan told me he was never engaged to you. She lifted her chin and glared at Malika, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach."He wasn’t," Malika agreed, looking surprised. "I was engaged to Farhan; Ahsan was engaged to Farrah."The world seemed to tilt alarmingly for a few seconds, and Kate actually gripped the edge of the wall for support. Ahsan and Farrah! It couldn’t possibly be true, could it? "Jamila told me that Ahsan was in love with his fiancée," she said faintly. "She doesn’t know why the marriage didn’t take place."Malika gave a careless shrug. ‘Jamila knows. Everyone at the palace knows that Ahsan adored Farrah and that she eloped with his brother on the eve of their wedding.
He was suddenly aware that the children had finished their dance and everyone was waiting for his response. Kate had turned her head to him, frowning at his inattention, and he quickly clapped his hands in applause. Once the dancers had filed out of the marquee, his personal assistant Zaid appeared at his side and informed him that a group of local potters had brought their best work for his gracious inspection. Stifling a sigh, he led the royal party out into the blazing sunshine.The garden party continued all afternoon, and Ahsan was not in the best of moods when he strode back to the palace. He suddenly realized that he was too far ahead and slowed his pace, waiting for Kate to catch up with him. He frowned when he noted how pale she looked beneath her wide-brimmed hat. She made no attempt to speed up, and the dejected droop of her shoulders fueled his impatience."I appreciate that an afternoon spent admiring traditional crafts and customs is not likely to top your list of exciti
Her feet briefly touched the floor, and he spun her around, tugged her zip down her spine, and removed her dress before she had time to catch her breath. Her bra went the same way before he lifted her again and threw her onto the bed as if she were a rag doll, his eyes glittering with a mixture of anger and sexual hunger that made Kate’s stomach dip."At night, I’m happy to give you all the attention you could possibly want," he growled, his shoes, trousers, and shirt hitting the floor with barely controlled savagery until he stood in his silk boxers. "This is the only bed you’ll ever sleep in." The boxers joined the rest of his clothes, revealing his powerful, unashamedly aroused body in all its glory. "But I wouldn’t bank on sleeping for many hours yet."Kate stared up at him, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to control the wild excitement that was pounding through her veins. She was conscious that she was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny lace pants and the pric
Clearly embarrassed, Aaliyah determinedly changed the subject to Hazem and how fast he was growing. But although Kate smiled and made token conversation, her mind was whirling. If Malika’s family had expected her to marry Ahsan, was she the woman he had been engaged to years ago—the woman Jamila had said he had loved? But, if so, why had they not married? It didn’t make sense, and she brooded miserably as she stared at Ahsan. He was smiling at Malika and clearly enjoying her company. Perhaps they had argued and broken off their engagement. Was he now regretting his lost chance to marry a beautiful, clever Arab girl who would have made him the perfect wife?From that moment on, the party became a blur of faces and stilted conversation with people she had never met before. She was sure they viewed her as an oddity, with her pale skin and vivid hair—and her glaring lack of sophistication. But until his father had recovered, Ahsan was king, and one of her wifely duties outside of the bedr
As Ahsan had predicted, his team of advisors was waiting for him when they arrived back at the palace. Even on the journey across the desert, he’d had his mobile phone clamped to his ear, and Kate had sat silently beside him, lost in her thoughts. The honeymoon was over, and he had made it abundantly clear that he now saw her role as his wife as a walk-on part—or perhaps a lie-down part, she thought bitterly. But what had she expected? She had married him for Hazem, and he had married her for sex, and they had each gotten what they wanted.At least she had Hazem, she told herself later that evening, when she tucked the toddler into bed. She had missed him desperately, and his evident delight that she was back was a comforting balm to her raw emotions. She was Ahsan’s wife, a member of the Royal Family of Qubbah, and no one could ever take him away from her now.But as she prepared for the state banquet, her insecurities returned, and she felt sick with nerves. She had been horrified w