Page 17 of Seduced By the Sheikh

The facts, figures and minutes of futile meetings with which she’d crammed her head all day immediately faded under the spell of these vast, ancient gardens.

Enormous fruit trees sheltered the path along which she walked. Fragrant climbers clung to the ancient walls and over doors which led to yet further gardens. These wound right up to the mountainside. It was like a fortress—albeit it, a green and fragrant one—contained and private for the royal family only. She couldn’t help thinking that to have created such seclusion, they must have felt under siege—unsafe in their own country. Which would have made them feel even more alone and isolated. Just like her. She sighed. She didn’t think she’d ever felt more alone or unloved, because during the past few nights her hopes—which she’d always kept securely in check—had been raised. And last night they’d been dashed lower than they’d ever been.

The sense of emptiness and exhaustion increased as she continued walking higher to the lookout she’d seen from her window. It was a short, steep walk, but worth it. From there she could see the palace in its entirety and the small city of Sirun which surrounded it on three sides. Beyond the city lay the hammada plains covered in the beguiling purple, shifting haze of evening. A dark gray line showed the horizon, the limits of her new world. She took deep breaths of the clear evening air, desperate to calm the feeling of being trapped in this world where her husband, who she’d come to desire with each passing night together, had made it clear her daytime skills weren’t required. The thought drained the last drops of energy and, suddenly exhausted, she lay back against the still-warm cliff, keeping her vision firmly on the distant horizon until her eyes grew tired and she closed them.

Zak couldn’t figure out where she’d gone. Her suite of rooms was empty. But when he’d ventured outside, he’d found a boy watering the gardens who said he’d seen her some time earlier, following the path up toward the lookout.

By the time he found her, a bright new sickle moon had risen and hung low in the sky, eclipsing the stars which only moments earlier had been bright. But he needed no light. He knew the path like the back of his hand. It had been his escape as a boy, into the mountains and beyond, exploring the caves, climbing to the highest ridge. Even now, when he felt the overwhelming burden of leadership which had been thrust on him so unexpectedly, he couldn’t help looking up at the mountains. The thought of the vastness of the world that could be seen from there soothed him.

He didn’t have to go far to find her. She was lying on the first ledge, with her head on her arm, sound asleep, the moonlight glancing off her beautiful face. She was wearing a robe, but it had fallen apart, revealing the silky skin which he’d explored the previous night. Any thoughts of anger and irritation stemming from their angry exchange of words disappeared in an instant. Instead, he remembered her responsiveness from the night before, and knelt down before her.

“Soraiya,” he whispered, not wanting her to awaken with a start. “Soraiya,” he repeated, a little louder.

The sound reminded her of something, she thought drowsily, unwilling to emerge from the sleep into which she’d so easily plunged. Her name said like that. She liked it. She sighed and allowed herself to ease back into her pleasant dreams of home and comfort.

But it came again. Her name said in a tone which made her skin tingle as if caressed by a gentle yet persuasive hand. That tone didn’t remind her of home, it reminded her of a very new experience.

“Soraiya!” The voice was louder now, and she definitely felt something touch her skin.

She opened her eyes with a start. Zak was kneeling in front of her—a dark shadow outlined by the brilliance of the slight moon.

She struggled to sit up, but became tangled in her abaya. He helped her to her feet and kept hold of her hand. She tried to pull it away, unable to accept the man before her was the same commanding, uncompromising and plain angry man she’d encountered in the palace only hours earlier.

“Please, let me go!”

“I cannot,” he said. He indicated the steep drop. “I do not wish to see my queen fall and hurt herself.”

She grunted dismissively, giving up trying to pull her hand from his, because it was true, the place on which they stood was precarious. When she’d arrived, she’d been able to easily pick her way around the steep rocks and fast-flowing water which fed the palace and city. But now there was nothing but darkness and the unknown.

“I’m surprised you care. No”—she added quickly—“but of course you do. You need me to be queen. To have babies, your heirs.” She’d always been unable to hide her feelings and now, her bitterness at his attitude toward her was clear in every syllable.

“Indeed,” he said softly and sexily. It shouldn’t have curled inside her, tweaking her with desire. “So come, let me help you down and we’ll return to the palace.”

But she resisted. She had to know. “Why are you so keen to help me go back to the palace? You made me feel quite unwelcome earlier. ”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Now isn’t the place for such a discussion.”

“Then when is?”

“Later. Away from here.”

She glanced down, realizing that a precarious path and feelings of anger and frustration didn’t go together.

She nodded. “Okay. But we must talk.”

“Later,” he repeated.

He continued to hold her hand as he led the way, pointing to secure footholds as they descended into the safety of the palace gardens once more.

Once they’d reached the gardens, he released her hand and they walked in silence until they reached their suite of rooms.

Her heart was beating fast, wondering what he’d do next. Take her into the bedroom? Talk? Leave her?

He opened the door for her and stepped aside. She entered the room and turned to him, but he stayed where he was.

“Do you wish to talk?”

“Tomorrow night, we will talk. After the trade talks are concluded.”

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