Awakened by Her Desert Captor(20)

'You really haven't seen your father since you left?'

 He shook his head.'Not since I was seventeen.' Then he grimaced. 'That's not entirely accurate. I would have left voluntarily, but I was  still too young. He threw me out.'

'Why?'

 Arkim steeled himself.'Because he caught me having sex with his mistress-a famous porn actress.'

 He saw myriad expressions cross Sylvie's face: shock, hurt, and then anger.

 She put her napkin down, eyes flaming, jaw tight.'You absolute  hypocrite! You have the gall to subject me to your judge and jury act  and all the time-'         

     



 

'Wait.' Arkim's voice rang out harshly.

 He hadn't even been aware of the impulse to lean across the table and  capture Sylvie's wrist in his hand before he realised that was what he  was doing. Panic made his gut clench. For the first time in his life he  found that his words were tripping out before he could stop them-along  with an urge to make her understand.

 Because if Sylvie damned him then there truly was no hope for his redemption at all...

'I didn't seduce her. She seduced me.'

 * * *

 Sylvie looked at Arkim, her wrist still caught in his firm grip. There  was something almost desperate in his eyes. Her anger, which had flared  so quickly, started to fizzle out.'What do you mean?'

 He let her wrist go and stood up, moving away from the table to pace,  running a hand through his hair. Sylvie had never seen him like this. On  the edge of his control.

 He turned to face her, his face etched in stark lines.'I was back  from England for the summer holidays. My father had refused to let me  stay in Europe for the summer, even though I'd offered to pay my own way  by working. I'd done my A levels. I was just biding my time until I had  to go to college. My father knew I hated LA, so he taunted me with it.'

 His mouth twisted.'Cindy was everywhere I was. Especially when my father wasn't around. And invariably she was half-naked.'

 Self-disgust was evident in his voice.

'I thought I could resist her... I tried for the whole summer. I was  only a few days from returning to the UK and she found me by the pool. I  was too weak. The worst thing was that she stayed in control the whole  time while I lost it. My father found us in the pool house.'

 He didn't have to elaborate on what had happened next for Sylvie to  join the dots. She shouldn't be feeling anything other than what he'd  dished out to her-judgement and condemnation... But she couldn't help  it. Sympathy surged in her breast. She could well imagine that whatever  judgement she might hurl at Arkim, he'd already judged himself a  thousand times over-and far more harshly than anyone else could have.

'You were seventeen, Arkim. There's probably not a straight teenage  hormonal boy on the planet who could have resisted the seduction of an  older and more experienced woman-much less a porn star whose job is  controlling sex.'

 Arkim's harsh lines didn't relax.'She only did it because she wanted  to make my father jealous...to push him into some kind of commitment.  She gambled the wrong way, though. He threw her out too.'

 He turned away from her then, to look out at the view. His back was  broad, formidable. As if he didn't want her to look at him.

'Do you know I saw my first orgy when I was eight?'

 Sylvie put a hand to her mouth, glad he wasn't looking at her  reaction. She took her hand down after a moment.'Arkim...that's-'

 He turned around again. He was harsh.'That was my life. Someone saw  me watching, and of course I couldn't really understand what was  happening. It was after that that my father sent me to school in  England. He got off on the idea of sending me to school with English  royalty. But it saved me, I think. I only had to survive the holidays,  and I learned to avert my eyes from the debauched parties he liked to  throw.'

 The thought of such a small child witnessing such things and then  being sent away... Sylvie stood up.'That was abuse, Arkim. And what  that woman did to you- seducing you like that-it was a form of abuse  too.'

 Arkim smiled, but it was infinitely cynical and Sylvie suddenly loathed it.

'Was it abuse? When it was the most exciting moment of my life at that  point? She showed me how much pleasure a man can feel. I submitted to  her. Even though I hated myself for it.'

 For a second Sylvie felt a blinding flash of jealousy so acute she  nearly gasped. The thought of this man being helpless, submitting to a  woman who had given him pleasure...and who was not her...was painful.

 Thankfully he didn't seem to notice her seismic reaction and he said, 'Do you know what it's like to grow up under the influence of someone  with no moral compass?'         

     



 

 Sylvie shook her head, clawing back control.

 He was grim.'It's like you're tainted by his deeds-no matter what you  do to try and distance yourself. It's a tattoo on your skin-for ever.  And I failed the test. I proved I was no better than my father-a man who  debased a sweet, innocent woman from a foreign country and all but  dumped her by the road when she needed him most.'

 His words sank heavily into the silence, and just like that Sylvie saw  Arkim's intense personal struggle. Saw why he'd always reacted so  strongly to her. She understood now how very attractive a respectable  marriage would be-it would offer him everything he'd never had. It all  made sense. And her heart ached.

 The approach of another staff member broke the bubble surrounding  them. The man said something to Arkim that Sylvie couldn't understand.  She was reeling with all this new information, feeling such a mix of  things that she hardly knew how to assimilate it all.

 The man left and Arkim turned to her, his face expressionless again,  as if he hadn't just punched a hole in her chest with his revelations.

'There are some nomads who want to meet with me. You should rest for a while-it's the hottest part of the day.'

 Sylvie felt his dismissal like a glancing blow, but before she could  say a word Arkim was striding away. A middle-aged woman dressed all in  black appeared by her side. She had a smiling face and kind eyes. She  said something Sylvie couldn't understand and gestured for Sylvie to  follow her. With no other choice, she did, and was led to the smaller of  the two big tents.

 The woman slipped off her shoes before she went in so Sylvie copied her, not wanting to cause any offence.

 It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darker interior, and when  they had her jaw dropped. It was refreshingly cooler inside, and the  entire floor area was covered in oriental rugs, each in a more lavish  design than the last. Her toes curled at the sensation of the expensive  material under her feet...it was like silk.

 The tent was simply the most decadent thing Sylvie had ever seen. Dark  and full of lustrous materials. Huge soft cushions around a low coffee  table; a dressing screen with intricate Chinese drawings. Beautiful  lamps threw out soft lights...drawing the eye to the most focal point of  the tent: the bed.

 It was on a raised platform in the centre of the room. It was a  four-poster, with heavy drapes pulled back at each corner. More cushions  in lush jewel colours were strewn artfully across the pillows, and the  sheets-Sylvie reached out to touch them-they were made of satin and  silk. The bed was a byword in shameless opulence.

 Sylvie caught the older woman's eye. She was looking at her with a  very knowing glint. There was obviously only one reason for Sylvie to be  here with the Sheikh.

 She blushed furiously, squirming on the spot, and suffered through  being shown the bathroom-another eye-poppingly sensual space, complete  with a huge copper claw-footed bath-and tried not to die of  embarrassment.

 When the woman had left, Sylvie paced back and forth, expecting to see  Arkim darken the tent's doorway at any moment. She felt panic at the  thought of seeing him again. When he didn't appear she sank down into a  chair near the bottom of the bed and glared balefully at the entrance of  the tent for a few minutes. She realised that Arkim had really meant  her to have a nap. He wasn't coming.

 A sense of disappointment cut through all the other emotions, mocking  her. The last thing she felt like doing was napping-she was so keyed up,  her mind racing. But when she got up and sat down on the edge of the  sumptuous bed it seemed to draw her into the centre, cushioning her like  a cloud.

 The last thing she remembered before sleep claimed her was vowing to  herself that she would absolutely not think again about what he'd just  told her-because that way lay all sorts of danger, and feelings that  made her far too susceptible to the man.





  CHAPTER SEVEN

 SYLVIE WOKE SOME time later with a jolt. She'd been having a horrible  dream about hundreds of naked faceless people with bare limbs  entwined-so much so that she couldn't tell where one person ended and  another began. She was tiny in the dream, and trying to find a way out,  but gradually getting more and more suffocated...