The discovery in the morning that Arni had returned to Mumbai had given her a breathing space that had enabled her to think logically and practically about her situation and her options. She had reasoned that financially she could not afford to break her contract, whilst emotionally and sexually she could not afford to mirror her mother's folly in falling in love with the wrong man and going to bed with him.Arni inhabited a world in which the super-rich called nowhere home. It was unlikely that their paths would ever cross again once she had finished her work here. Reasonably, therefore, all she had to do was keep her distance from him until life put an even greater distance between them. Once it had, she could ache all she wanted for him, in the secure knowledge that all she could do was ache. It is better to burn with unappeased longing than to be destroyed by the acid corrosion of shame and self-disgust.And anyway, now she was alert to her own danger, she had herself properly und
Orla’s heart sank as she stood in the main entrance hall of the palace. Her driver had just brought her the unwelcome news that he was not going to be driving her to her appointment but that instead Arni was going to take her and that he would join her shortly.Up above her was the gallery she had just walked along, which separated the main part of the palace from the women’s quarters, where once they had lived in Purdah.Purdah! The concealment of a woman’s face and body from the eyes of all men except those of her immediate family. Some see it as a form of protection, while others see it as a form of imprisonment.As a Western woman, the very thought of enduring Purdah was beyond comprehension.But wasn’t the reality that what she herself was enduring, and had endured for most of her life, was in its own way an inner form of Purdah, imposed on her by her own fears? Her Purdah means that her emotions and desires must always remain hidden away, denied the light of day for her own prote
‘And now, Miss, if you will come, please, and see your shelves?’ Mr. Singh invited them once they had gone through the formality of drinking tea.Mr. Singh led them into an anteroom of the factory, where Orla’s shelving had been put on display.To her relief, it was exactly what she had wanted: constructed in sections so that it could be put together in different combinations, to cover an entire wall or merely part of it, with either a low or high profile. These particular shelves had been painted black and then rubbed down for a modern look.Orla went up to them to inspect them properly, checking the quality of the paintwork and then testing the shelves themselves for stability."They are good, yes?" the factory owner asked eagerly."Yes," Orla confirmed.The factory owner’s mobile phone rang. As he turned aside to answer it, Orla ran her hand along the underside of one of the shelves, wincing when her finger was pierced by a small splinter of wood and quickly withdrawing her hand to
Ralapur was up ahead,’ Arni told her, and sure enough, as Orla peered through the windscreen, she could see here and there the glimmer of lights.Arni picked up speed again, leaving the storm behind, and they came to the new Tarmac road—commissioned and paid for, she had learned, by Arni’s brother, who was proving to be a forward-thinking and caring figurehead. The Tarmac gleamed wet under the drum of the rain, but at least it was free of any surface water.By the time they reached the city car park, the rain had actually almost stopped, but the storm was obviously following them.If you want to stay here whilst I go and get you a raincoat and an umbrella, Arni offered, as he switched off the engine.Orla shook her head. "No, I’ll come with you," she told him. She’d rather risk getting a bit wet and having the safety of his presence than remain dry and stay in the car on her own.Come on, then.’They were only yards from the square in front of the palace when the storm caught up with
"I want you," Orla whispered. And as though the admission had released her from all constraint, she could feel the wild, wanton rush of her own hot desire as it stormed through her body, overpowering everything that stood in its way. "I want you," she repeated unsteadily, but more loudly. ‘I want you...’‘How? How do you want me? Tell me. Show me. "Show me your desire. Show me the way you want me to please you. Talk to me in words and tell me your pleasure.’What he was asking of her was impossible, but that didn’t stop his words from exciting her almost unbearably.Their bodies gave off a mutual heat of need through the wet fabric of their clothes. She could smell it, feel it, and breathing it in was like breathing in something headily intoxicating.And then thunder roared overhead, and lightning spat and forked—and Orla’s heartbeat went into overdrive.She registered the rise and fall of Arni’s chest with a small shuddering breath. In the dim light, his eyes shone molten like mercur
Arni’s hands were shaping her naked body, stroking down to her thighs and then up over her. His fingertips, spanning the smoothness of her body and then lifting her so that he could press her into his arousal, had her raking her nails down the length of his upper arm, whilst she sobbed her sexual heat into the wet flesh of his throat.Had she parted her own thighs in open willingness, soliciting his long and deliberately erotic exploration of her intimate flesh, or had Arni parted them himself?Orla had no idea, and she cared even less. She couldn't think or exist beyond the sensual stroke of his fingertip backwards and forwards over her clitoris.Possessed by the desire that had materialized as quickly as the storm, Orla tugged and tore at Arni's clothes, shuddering with blatant sexual pleasure at each touch of his hands on her naked rain-sleek skin, moaning her delight and inciting more intimacy as each touch fueled her hunger for more.Here in this room, filled with the heat they t
Slowly and wonderingly, she reached out to touch him, running her fingertips along his breastbone and then down his body, through the soft dark hair that thickened around the Nihale of his hardness.Her chest rose and then fell sharply as her senses responded to the intimacy of her exploration, and uncertainly, she stroked delicately along the rigid shaft.Arni shuddered. What Orla was doing to him was sheer torment, and she must have known it. He wanted to be enclosed by her, to be held firm, to feel her body embracing and caressing him. He wanted to take her and hold her and thrust deep into her. He wanted to feel her body’s desire for his. He wanted to lose himself in her. He wantedOrla could feel the heavy, uneven thud of Arni’s heartbeat, could taste the unique hot salt of his skin. "I want you," she told him, breathing the words out against his skin, the raw uneven huskiness of her voice matching the unsteadiness of her heartbeat. ‘Make love to me, Arni.’Her hands flat against
Orla had been awake for some time, lying in bed and marveling at the difference between the woman she had been and the woman she was now. Her body glowed still with the aftermath of her pleasure. Their pleasure, she reminded herself. Arni would know now that he had been wrong about her, and that what she felt for him was unique, something she had never shared with anyone else. She was still high from the night before, in a blissed-out state where the world felt like a fairytale come true and she was its heroine princess.And all because of Arni.Arni! Where was he? What would he say to her? What would she say to him? Her heart was thumping unsteadily. Already she misses him. She already ached for him and wanted to be with him. Already the effect of the night’s sexual intimacy had changed her and their relationship, and her heart was speeding on wings into a magical world where everything and anything was possible.It was Arni himself who brought her back down to earth, arriving with a
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