At the Sheikh's Bidding(25)

       
           



       

Erin  could swear she actually felt her heart plummet down to her toes,   and  she turned to stare at him with huge, troubled eyes when he jumped   in  next to her and fired the engine. She should never have lied to  him,  she  thought frantically. ‘Zahir … I have to tell you … '


‘It's all right; I don't want a detailed list of your boyfriends.' Zahir swiftly cut her off.

Sure,  he had a modern outlook, he assured himself. Women were equal to   men,  and they had just as much right to experiment with a variety of   sex  partners. He didn't understand why the idea of Erin making love   with any  other man filled him with such savage fury. He should be   pleased that  she was sexually experienced, and tonight he would use   every ounce of  his own skill and passion to make love to her. He would   teach her things  that would no doubt shock her, and he would give her   more pleasure than  she had ever experienced-until he had driven all   memories of her  previous lovers from her mind for good and she thought   only of him.

‘But, Zahir … '

‘Leave  it, Erin. I have no wish to rake over your past or list all the   women  who've shared my bed. It would take most of the night,' he added   with a  self-satisfied grin, ‘and I have other plans for us tonight.'

After  that they drove through the desert in a silence that stretched   Erin's  nerves to snapping point. Eventually they reached an oasis. A    distinctive Bedouin tent loomed out of the darkness, pitched beneath    several palm trees and illuminated by flickering oil lamps. Moonlight    dappled the inky surface of a large natural pool, and more stars than    Erin had ever imagined existed studded the sky like pins in a velvet    pincushion.

Some distance away she could see more tents and,  following her gaze,   Zahir explained, ‘Servants' quarters. But I don't  have many staff here,   and they are under strict orders not to disturb  us.'

He held out his arms to assist her down from the  four-by-four, and   despite her misgivings the brief contact with his body  was enough to   send heat coursing through Erin's veins. The feel of his  silk shirt   beneath her fingertips and the sensual musk of his cologne  captivated   her senses, and her legs felt weak. When he opened the tent  flap she   stared around at the jumbled array of brightly coloured  cushions and   patterned rugs, and at the vast, low bed set beneath a  billowing canopy   and draped with a satin coverlet.

It was like  something out of an Arabian fantasy, and if this had been a   real  marriage, born of love rather than convenience, she would have   adored  the romantic setting. But Zahir had married her out of duty and   because  he wanted to have sex with her, and the knowledge that he was   expecting  her to join him on that huge bed made her feel as though she   had turned  into her mother. She was no better than a whore-for what   difference did  it make that she had agreed to barter her body in return   for remaining  with Kazim rather than hard cash?

The panic that had been  building inside her since the wedding ceremony   had increased tenfold on  the drive from the palace, and now threatened   to overwhelm her. Her  voice was sharp and high-pitched when she  cried,  ‘I'm not sleeping with  you.'

‘Sleeping was not what I had in mind either,' Zahir drawled  lazily. He   strolled over to a table and lifted a bottle of champagne  from an ice   bucket. ‘I can think of many infinitely more enjoyable ways  of  spending  my wedding night.'

He filled two glasses and offered  one to Erin, but she shook her head   and wrapped her arms tightly around  her body. It was warm inside the   tent, but her teeth were chattering and  she felt horribly sick. She had   only picked at the wedding feast, so  her nausea was not likely to be   caused by something she'd eaten. It was  fear, plain and simple, she   acknowledged, her eyes fixed on Zahir, and  her breath caught in her   throat when he began to unfasten his shirt  buttons. The sight of his   golden skin, overlaid with a covering of fine  black hairs, and the   visible ridges of his abdominal muscles shattered  the last remnants of   her self-control.


‘I mean it. This whole charade was a mistake.'

‘Charade?'  He frowned slightly but was not distracted from shrugging   his shirt  over his shoulders and allowing it to drop to the floor.

‘Our  marriage,' Erin said wildly. ‘It was a mistake and I should never   have  agreed to it. You used Kazim to blackmail me, and that was a   despicable  thing to do.'

Even to her own ears she sounded close to hysteria,  but she couldn't   help it. Stripped to his waist, Zahir was a demi-god  who made her mouth   run dry-but he was expecting a night of tempestuous  passion with a   woman he believed was an expert in the art of seduction.  He would   probably laugh if she asked him to be gentle, and think it was  all part   of a game she was playing. But her ‘maidenly virtue' wasn't an  act,   and wild horses would not force her into his bed.                       
       
           



       

‘I'll  sleep over at the servants' quarters,' she told him, hastily   dropping  her gaze when she caught the gleam of anger in his eyes.

To her  surprise Zahir made no attempt to stop her when she wrenched the   tent  flap open, but his murmured, ‘Watch out for snakes,' stopped her   in her  tracks.

‘What snakes?'

‘Cobras, mainly, and the odd horned  viper-their venom is deadly, of   course, but I'm sure you'll be fine as  long as you look where you are   putting your feet.'

‘But it's  dark. I won't be able to see them.' Erin cast a nervous   glance out at  the inky blackness of the desert and wondered what lurked   in its  mysterious shadows. Did snakes move around at night?

A faint  rustling sound from a nearby bush caused her heart to   practically leap  from her chest, and she shrieked and jumped back   inside the tent, her  overwrought emotions boiling over into explosive   temper when she caught  sight of Zahir's smirk.

‘I'm glad you find the situation so  funny!' Suddenly she was   incandescent with rage. She was tired of being  manipulated, tired of   being backed into a corner, and with a cry of fury  she snatched up the   nearest object to hand-a small glazed bowl set on a  low table-and  flung  it at him. ‘I must have been temporarily insane  when I agreed to  be  your wife, but my sanity has returned and I want a  divorce.'

With lightning reactions Zahir caught the bowl and set  it down before   striding towards her, his expression darkening from  amusement to anger   and his eyes glittering with a primitive hunger that  caused Erin's   heart to pound. ‘Oh, no,' he growled as he reached her and  tangled his   fingers in her hair when she turned to run. ‘This is what  you want, my   little wildcat-you just don't have the guts to admit it.'

He  jerked her against his chest and bent her backwards until she was   sure  her spine would snap. Her eyes widened in fearful anticipation   when he  lowered his head to hers.

‘I saw the furtive glances you gave me  during the wedding feast, the   hungry longing in your gaze that you  thought I hadn't noticed,' he said   harshly, his warm breath whispering  across her lips. ‘I know you were   imagining us together, our naked  bodies pressed skin against skin,  your  limbs entwined with mine. And  tonight it is time to turn the  fantasy  into reality. I will make you  mine,' he promised; his voice  thick with a  sexual promise that caused a  mixture of apprehension and  undeniable  excitement to run through her. ‘I  don't know what's caused  this sudden  change of heart. Maybe the wedding  brought back memories  of my brother.  But you agreed to marry me of your  own free will, and  after tonight  you will be in no doubt that you are  my wife now, not  Faisal's.'