Desert King, Pregnant Mistress(10)

A few minutes later Beth stared at the outfit Jamilah was holding out to her. 'Oh, but I couldn't possibly … '

'You don't like it?' Jamilah's face fell.

'Oh no,' Beth quickly explained. 'I mean, it's so beautiful I couldn't possibly wear it.'

'Unless I insist, and assure you I'll be deeply offended if you don't?'

As  both girls laughed companionably, Jamilah helped Beth dress,  arranging  the floating chiffon of the Arabian gown to best advantage.  In subtle  shades of powder blue and silver, the yards of fabric took a  lot of  taming. 'I'd never have managed it on my own,' Beth admitted,  staring at  herself in amazement in the mirror. 'Would you take a  picture of me?'  she said, thinking of her friends as she snatched up  the camera.                       
       
           



       

'Of course I will. You look really beautiful.'

'I  certainly look different, but it's your beautiful dress that makes  the  difference,' Beth argued in her usual down-to-earth way.

'Just one final touch,' Jamilah told her, draping a panel of the flimsy headdress across Beth's face.

Beth's  eyes widened as they approached the encampment. She had never  seen  anything like it in her life. With the fire blazing high into the  sky in  front of the ocean, and the musicians beating their Arabian  drums and  strumming even more exotic instruments, it was like the  setting for a  film. Jamilah's family tents were vast and decked out  with pennants and  gold hangings, with the symbol of a hawk prominently  displayed next to  something written in Arabic script.

'Khalifa,' Jamilah said,  noticing Beth was looking at it. 'Though it's a  reference to my family's  loyalty to the Sheikh of Sheikhs, and there  are no designer shoes other  than mine in our tent, unfortunately.'

Beth laughed at the  reference to the Khalifa luxury brand. Would she  ever get used to this  mix of East and West? It couldn't have been more  starkly illustrated.  But as the warm breeze caressed her face she  forgot the comparisons.  'It's so beautiful here,' she breathed, moving  closer to the ocean on  sandaled feet. The night breeze was making the  ruby satin curtains  outside the tents dance, and the susurration of the  waves breaking on  the shore was so soothing she barely noticed Jamilah  slipping away and  someone else taking her place.



He could move freely in  the dark, and as yet his face was not widely  recognised. His title meant  nothing now, and the usual restrictions did  not exist here in this  temporary tented city outside the palace walls.  He headed away from the  music, following silently in the footsteps  Beth was leaving on the sand.  He waited as she slipped off her sandals,  admiring the way she looked  in traditional dress. She wore it well,  with all the grace of a true  Q'Adaran, and he could tell she was  enchanted by the romance of wearing  the flowing robes of an Arabian  princess. She didn't even know Jamilah  was his cousin, or that Q'Adaran  women could be as subtle in their  matchmaking endeavours as their  Western counterparts. And for once he  was grateful to the mischievous  Jamilah, for no one but she knew he was  there.



Khal in snug-fitting jeans? No, she must be dreaming.

'Khal?'  Beth swallowed hard, rooted to the spot as the music started up  again  and drowned out her voice. What should she do now? Should she  carry on  walking out along the beach, or … It didn't matter what she did,  Beth's  sensible self insisted, since the Sheikh of Sheikhs could  hardly be here  to seek out her company. But as Khal blocked her way  Beth realised she  was wrong.

'You shouldn't be walking along the beach on your own.'

'Jamilah told me I'd be safe here.'

'There  are so many people … ' Khal gazed out across the tented city,  while  Beth's throat tightened to the point where she doubted she could  speak  at all.

'Do you dance?' he said, turning to her.

'Do I  dance?' Beth repeated foolishly wondering if that really was a  touch of  humour tugging at the corner of Khal's mouth. And in his  eyes … The dance  was already inside her, she realised, and it was both an  erotic and an  irresistible temptation. 'Of course I dance,' she said.  'Don't you?'

This time he really smiled; there was no doubt about it. 'Shall we?' he said, offering her his hand.

Where  had that attractive crease in his cheek come from? 'Do you mean  you  want to dance with me?' Beth gazed at Khal's outstretched hand.

'That's the general idea.'

Beth  Tracey Torrance dances with the Sheikh on the beach! No toes   broken-thanks to being barefoot! That would be her headline. But did she   trust herself to hold Khal's hand?

Khal took the decision for  Beth, drawing her to him and yet holding her  at arm's length so that  they were barely touching. But it wasn't  enough to make her resist the  seductive rhythms of the Q'Adaran music.  'Do you come here often?' Beth  whispered cheekily, still wanting to  pinch herself in case this was a  dream.                       
       
           



       

'Never quite like this,' Khal admitted, playing along. 'But that could change.'

'What would it take to change, Your Majesty?' Beth glanced shyly up.

'Khal,'  he murmured, holding her gaze until Beth thought she might  never  breathe again. And his smile was back. Please let it last this  time, she  silently begged. She didn't want him to change; she wanted  this moment  to last for ever.

When the music stopped they stood together in  silence, and when it  started up again in a much slower rhythm His  Majesty Khalifa Kadir al  Hassan, Sheikh of Sheikhs, Bringer of Light to  His People drew her so  close she could feel his heart beating against  her breasts. Her nipples  grew instantly taut at the subtle stimulation.  Surely he must feel the  change in them? There was no doubt in her mind  that Beth Tracey  Torrance had turned into a wanton hussy.

A wanton hussy with precious little common sense, Beth told herself impatiently, pulling away.

As  Khal pulled her back again Beth knew she was on the point of  stepping  over a boundary from which there would be no turning back. So  she must  resist. Of course she must resist! But the lure of her  surroundings  combined with her need to feel wanted made it hard-no,  impossible-to  resist. And so she rested against Khal's hard, warm body,  knowing the  strength to pull away had completely deserted her. She was  on fire for  him, and could feel every inch of him pressed up hard  against her, while  streams of sensation went pulsing through her veins …

The report  to her friends would have to end here, Beth decided as  Khal's hand  settled in the hollow at the small of her back. With his  fingers splayed  across the top of her buttocks, and her body pounding  with desire, the  rest of the night would be X-rated, and as such it  would have to be  censored.





CHAPTER FIVE




SEX  With A Sheikh was a cocktail, not an option, Beth reminded herself  as  Khal took hold of her hand and drew her with him. As the lights of  the  campfire faded behind them, and the laughter and conversation  subsided  beneath the rush of the surf, she was cloaked in awareness as  he stopped  walking and brought her to face him.


Was this was really  happening, or should she pinch herself? Her hand  felt so safe in his, as  he drew her inch by inch towards him, she  didn't even pretend to  resist. Beneath a rich blue velvet sky studded  with diamonds, this was  so magical her throat had closed with emotion.  Things like this didn't  happen to her; no one had ever treated her as  if she was precious and  fragile before. Khal could take his pick from  any number of women, but  he had chosen her. Closing her eyes, she  inhaled his cologne. It was the  most wonderful fragrance, but more  intoxicating still was the man  holding her. And, when she finally  allowed her muscles to soften against  him, Beth knew she was more  aroused than she had ever been, and that  was dangerous.



How long had it been since he'd held a  woman like this? Had he ever  held a woman like this?-as if she might  break? By this stage he would  expect any play mate to be pressing  themselves against him as though  they were on heat, telling him without  words what he could take and  what it would cost him. But not Beth.

Beth …

He  should pull back now. He should recognise the way he felt about her  for  the warning it was and pull back now. But as he took a step back  she  reached out to him. He looked at her outstretched hand. It was so  tiny,  she was so tiny. What he should do now was throw her a careless  smile  and tell her he'd enjoyed the dance, before sending her back to  the  encampment and Jamilah, where she'd be safe. 'Shall we walk a  while?' he  said instead.