Page 7 of Sheikh's Virgin Love-Slave

It wasn’t like he could just expect Bridget to accept what he’d done overnight, and he did want to give her the time she needed to accept the arrangement and understand that her fate was far from terrible. He knew a dozen women in line for Arabian thrones who would kill to be in her position. But he needed to give her time. He just hadn’t anticipated making her so angry with him to start.

Bridget pushed the onions around on her plate with her fork and barely acknowledged him. She kept her hypnotic eyes lowered and firmly fixated on her food. They hadn’t even gotten to the matchbous, yet. Maybe she’d find that beyond captivating.

Just his luck.

Ravi coughed in order to get her attention again. “You know, I sent your father back to the States and gave him money to help him get his life back on track. I’m not heartless.”

“He’ll waste it in a few months,” she said, her tone hardening. “He always does.” Bridget sighed and picked up a piece of pita, tearing into it with fervor. “Do you want to know the funny thing?”

Encouraged by the fact she was up to talking, Ravi nodded. “Do tell.”

“I’m not even mad at you. Oh, I’m nervous, and this isn’t at all what I want to be doing, but you’ve kept your word so far and not hurt me.”

Ravi shook his head. “I assure you that stereotypes of the Middle East have no place here. I’ve no interest in forcing any woman into anything. I just want to show you the wonders of the city and let whatever may happen take its course.”

She swallowed hard. “Well, I haven’t had a vacation in years, but I’m not saying I like being abducted.”

“Perhaps I should have thought the trade-off through more thoroughly,” he allowed.

“Damn straight,” she replied. “However, it’s not bad. I’ve never worn a designer anything in my life. I just… I’m so mad at my father. The last time I even saw him was my college graduation.” Ravi didn’t mention that was his last photo of her, that it was more than obvious, but instead let her continue. “He showed up so drunk that he thought it would somehow be a good idea to argue with my poli-sci professor, then try to punch him. But that’s Dad, always caught up in some scam or worse. But I never thought it would leave me a captive.”

“It’s not like that, exactly. You can go back to the States whenever you like. In fact, if you truly want to, I’ll let you go home tomorrow.”

Her eyes grew comically wide, like an owl’s. “Are you serious?”

“I said I didn’t like to force anyone. Dine well tonight, sleep on it, and then you can make your choices from there. You father can still have his freedom and his small gain.”

“Because Dad could and would trade me for money in a heartbeat.” She shook her head and sipped her tea. “I guess we can’t pick our parents, can we?”

He stilled at the thought of his late father, before pushing those less than pleasant memories away. Instead, he raised his cup to her and took a sip as well. “No, we can’t, but at least we can enjoy what we have here.”

“And what is there to enjoy, uh, Ravi?” she asked, her tone curious but not accusatory.

That was a start.

He grinned at her and stood from his chair. Sauntering over to her seat, he turned it toward the window so that she could the lapping waters of the Persian Gulf. It was one of the current wonders of the world, or at least, everyone agreed the Palms artificial islands and their accompanying view were engineering marvels.

“We’re in a land of desert heat and sand, and yet, you can see the gulf for miles. There are dozens of beautiful species swimming out there, reefs, and so much more. When the sun sets…well, if you leave,” he said, leaning low to whisper into her ear. “You’ll never see that view for yourself first hand, will you?”

She shivered just a bit, and he knew he’d captured her attention the way he wanted to. He paused to take her earlobe gently between his teeth and apply just the lightest of pressure. Ravi was rewarded with her sitting up straighter and the sight of goosebumps popping up across the delicate skin of her neck. “Oh, Ravi.”

“See, that’s my name, my swan. Don’t you want to stay? To see the world? This is one of the most beloved tourist destinations on Earth.”

“So, still second to Disneyworld?” she joked, and then hissed when he kissed her neck.

The soft creamy flesh there was so perfect, so unmarked. It drove him crazy in her father’s photos of her and now it was too much to refrain from, even with his promises to wait. He had to taste her, at least a little. She didn’t disappoint. While Bridget smelled of fresh freesia and lilacs, her taste was of apples, of sweetness, and summer. He loved it.

Then he sucked at her neck, gratified when he pulled back to find a hickey welling in the place he’d suckled. “You’re so lovely, my swan. One day, if you stay, you will be mine.”

Her posture went rigid, and she pushed away from the table. Too late, Ravi realized he’d pushed her further than her boundaries would allow, at least for tonight. She turned to him, those emerald eyes wide with panic. “I’m not feeling well. Maybe it’s jet lag. I need some time to collect myself.”

He stepped back but didn’t let her leave, instead opting to wrap one hand around her wrist and to look deeply into her eyes. “Bridget, my swan, I know you can feel what’s happening between us. I can see how you shiver at my touch. Just let it happen.”

Her eyes grew large and limpid as shiny tears welled up. “I can’t,” she replied, before storming out of the dining hall before the main dish could even arrive.

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