Page 21 of Seduced By the Sheikh

The conversation had flowed as easily as the drinks, and the traditional food had been a success. The long table, overflowing with the remains of the dinner, which had comprised succulent meats, exotic fruits, and fragrant spices, stretched the length of the room. It was set with fine linens, glittering crystal goblets, and silver cutlery which shone in the flickering lights.

They’d both been intent on entertaining their guests but, from time to time, he’d caught her eye and she’d felt a delicious blush suffuse her cheeks. She couldn’t wait until they were alone. She couldn’t help but reflect that things had changed dramatically within only a few days.

With her immediate neighbors engaged in conversation, Soraiya sat back, cradling her crystal glass, and watched Zak as he held court. Literally. He might not have been born to be king—his father and elder brother had always been groomed for that role—but there was something innately regal about him. Charismatic power emanated from him like a radiance she’d never seen in anyone before. As he talked to the members of the French delegation, she could read the other men’s submissive stance and manner.

As the meal had progressed, and the talk shifted from business to lighter topics, Zak had effortlessly carried the conversation, discussing his previous trips to Paris and his love for the city’s culture. The French leader, clearly impressed by the king’s charm and knowledge, eagerly listened and shared her own experiences in the city. There was no need for Soraiya to make any more than polite and minimal contributions. With her father, her small-talk was always required to ease the machine of politics, but it seemed outside the boardroom, Zak was in complete command. But he hadn’t forgotten her.

“And what is your opinion, Your Highness, on the architecture of the Centre Pompidou in Paris?”

“Ah,” said Zak, “now you have me.” He turned to Soraiya, who blushed under the probing intensity of his look. “But my lovely wife will have an opinion, I have no doubt. She is highly cultured. Her mother was French, and she had inherited properties in Paris. Soraiya?”

Soraiya didn’t know if she was more struck by being called ‘lovely’, ‘Highly cultured’, by the way he looked at her, or that he was asking her for her opinion. All were a novelty, but it was the way he looked at her which struck her dumb.

The Frenchman smiled encouragingly. “I didn’t realize your mother was French, Highness. Although that would explain your beautiful eyes, no doubt.”

She suddenly found her words, ignoring the flattery about which she had no clue what to do. “Yes, my mother was from Paris. I used to accompany her there sometimes.” Again, she omitted to mention the increasing frequency and duration of those trips over the years until her mother simply didn’t return to Ra’nan. Soraiya had been left to return by herself, shortly after which her mother had died suddenly.

“Ah,” said the delegate, “that is the reason you are so well-informed about our country, and why you have excellent French.” He sat back in his chair and nodded. “I believe the future of our alliance with your country will be very good.”

All embarrassment forgotten, Soraiya was overwhelmed with relief. Before she could respond, Zak reached out, took her hand and squeezed it, and kept his hand over hers.

“My wife and I agree, and we are looking forward to closer economic relations with France. We believe this is the beginning of a new era for Sirun.”

Soraiya kept her gaze fixed on the French delegate, all the while aware of the enveloping heat of Zak’s hand around hers, not gripping uncomfortably, but cradling, his thumb sweeping over the back of her hand with a caress that stilled her mind and did anything but still her body.

“Isn’t that right, Soraiya?”

She had no choice but to look at him then, and what she saw in his eyes did nothing to quiet the pounding of her heart. His dark eyes were narrowed slightly, intense but appreciative, and his lips quirked into a slight smile of encouragement.

“Soraiya?” he repeated, his smile broadening. He knew the effect his touch and look were having on her, she could tell. She swallowed and nodded, forcing herself to look away, at the Frenchman.

“Exactly as my husband”—she blushed as she said the word, hardly believing she was married to this man who’d turned her world upside down—“says. We and the country are ready for this agreement and we look forward to working together for our mutual benefit.”

Soraiya sat back, more aware of Zak’s hand still holding hers than the polite murmurings of the delegation as they rose to return to the palace in the city. It was only then that Zak released her and they both rose and joined the French and bid their farewells. They wouldn’t be seeing them again as their transport collected them early to take them to the airport.

After the last guest had left, Zak turned to her and took both her hands in his. “Thank you, Soraiya. The delegation’s visit has been more of a success than I could have hoped. We’ve not only strengthened our relationship but forged new trade agreements, which you helped secure. When things were looking difficult, you stepped in and said exactly the right thing.” He shook his head. “And how you knew the details of the proposals, I don’t know.”

“Ah, well, I’m a quick learner.”

“And, no doubt, Aabid gave you advance warning.” He smiled. “You don’t have to say a thing. I know my vizier and he always puts Sirun first. He’s different to Kadar’s vizier—I wasn’t having him guide me. But, anyway, thank you.”

She was speechless, and could feel her blush deepen. Her father had never praised her, never acknowledged her work in such a way, and had never thanked her. The only way she knew he was pleased was because he continued to include her in future discussions.

She shook her head, unable to accept the compliment after years of not having any.

“It’s time for us to leave now.” He looked around. “I’d found Kadar’s tale of how he’d fallen in love with Sarah here, in this castle, amusing. I couldn’t imagine this place providing a seductive backdrop.” She looked down. He was still holding her hand. “But now I can.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it in an old-fashioned, courtly way which sent a thrill through her. “I think it’s time to return.” His voice had lowered. And she knew what they’d be returning to.

CHAPTER 11

Soraiya didn’t think she’d ever forget that moonlit drive across the desert. Zak was on a conference call with his vizier and others of his staff, discussing how the meeting had gone, and this allowed her space to reflect on all that had happened. The sense of anticipation at what lay ahead, tinged with nerves, mingled with the deep satisfaction of having helped secure the agreement of the French delegation.

Now and then, she’d glance over at him. The light from the phone illuminated the planes of his face—the high cheekbone and firm jaw—as he turned away from her, outlining actions which needed to be taken while also listening intently to his advisers. She liked he could listen as well as command. It boded well for his reign. And for her.

But the rest of the time she was lost in her own thoughts as she stared at the dark plain outside and the outline of the city, a glow of light around it like a beacon of hope. It was an accurate representation of her feelings. She felt as if she were lit up inside with a buzzing of anticipation, excitement and, yes, hope. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel the need to fight for her happiness. Zak had shown her clearly that he could make her happy and she could only wonder at how much happier he could make her. She could hardly wait for the night ahead. And, as she sat listening to the one-sided conversation, she suddenly understood the pleasure which lay in anticipation.

When they at last entered the palace grounds, he caught her glance and held it while he continued to talk on the phone. She smiled at him, but his only smile was in his eyes. And there was a wealth of promise there, even as his phone call continued.

After the car passed through two more security gates, he finished his call. “Ready?” he asked.

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