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Hidden in the Sheikh's Harem: Christmas at the Castello(26)

By:Michelle Conder


He'd also enjoyed breakfast. Since learning what she preferred, he'd  had the food stockpiled and he liked to watch her potter around, fixing  share plates for them both while he brewed the coffee. Then he'd pop the  toast in the toaster and over their meal he'd try to convince her to  give Vegemite a go. So far she'd steadfastly refused but he'd seen the  look of horror cross her face when she'd dipped her little finger in the  jar to test it. He'd nearly laughed out loud but instead had kissed her  into a stupor before bending her over the table and lifting  her-his-T-shirt.

Damn, but he loved her in his T-shirts, with all that dark hair  rippling down her back, her feet bare. All in all he'd say she  fascinated him and in a surprisingly short space of time, his feelings  for his wife had deepened to the point that he now struggled to label  them. In fact if he didn't know better he'd think- The loud thumping  started up again, breaking his train of thought.

'Darkhan, you lazy bastard,' a voice hollered from downstairs. 'We know you're in there. Your security team told us.'

Farah stiffened in his arms. 'Who is that?'

'Shh,' he murmured as he disentangled himself from her limbs. 'I'll take care of it.'

He grabbed his jeans on the way out and shoved them on. Then he headed  downstairs and opened the front door of the villa. Sunlight spilled over  the terracotta-tiled portico. Damian and Luke stood there, grinning  like tomcats.

'You idiots ever heard of calling first?' Zach complained.

'We did. We've been calling and texting since yesterday.' Damian pushed  past him into the foyer. 'You didn't respond.' He slapped him on the  back. 'It's great to see you.'                       
       
           



       

'I forgot to check my phone.' In fact he hadn't checked his phone since...well, he couldn't remember.

Luke ambled past at a slower pace. 'Sweet digs. We thought you might be  side-tracked by a beautiful...' His friend's voice trailed off and Zach  followed his gaze to the top of the stairs where Farah stood in nothing  but his T-shirt, holding a large chef's knife in her hand. Zach  grimaced. He really needed to show her where the suitcases were. And as  for the knife... She squeaked out a noise as she noticed the three of  them taking in her long legs and darted out of sight.

'Woman,' Damian filled in as Luke still stared wide-eyed. 'And you are!'

'Was that a knife?' Luke asked, confused.

'Ah, a fake one,' Zach parried. 'And she's not just any woman. She's my wife.'

He heard the note of pride in his voice and wondered if his friends  did, too, the feeling he was struggling to name swelling inside his  chest.

'Wife? Well...hell,' Damian sputtered. 'I thought I heard hearts breaking when I woke up this morning. Where was the invite?'

'We kept it small.'

'So, okay...' Luke shook his head as if he couldn't quite believe it. 'So, when you coming to the dock?'

'I don't know. I'll have to check with Farah.'

His two friends exchanged glances.

'You're coming to my party tonight, though, right?' Damian questioned. 'I mean, that is why you're here, isn't it?'

'If the missus says yes,' Luke said with mock seriousness.

'Well, of course,' Damian agreed. 'If the missus says-'

'All right, all right,' Zach growled, half wondering if Damian's party  was really a good idea. 'You two morons have had your fun, now shove off  or you can forget a present.'

'As long as she's long-legged and big-'

Zach slammed the door on their laughing faces. His friends were  confirmed bachelors and Zach was just glad not to be one of them any  more.

He took the stairs two at a time and found Farah sitting cross-legged on the bed. He glanced around. 'Where's the knife?'

'In the kitchen.'

He made a mock-salute to the ceiling and saw her mouth twitch. 'Feel like a walk to the harbour?'

Her face brightened. 'Yes. I'd love it. But I haven't a thing to wear.'

Zach strolled to the walk-in closet, opened the suitcase and pulled out  a pair of tiny shorts. He'd told her maid to pack the Western clothing  Imogen had organised for him, but he'd yet to show Farah. He grabbed a  white T-shirt he knew would show off her olive skin and dark hair to  perfection, lace panties and a bra he couldn't wait to remove.

She frowned when he dropped them on the bed. 'Where did these come from?'

'The built-in 'robe.'

'The...' she frowned. 'I thought they were your suitcases in there. Why didn't you tell me?'

'You didn't ask.' He smiled. 'And it wasn't as if you needed clothing.'

'Oh.' Clearly embarrassed, she picked up the shorts. 'What are these?'

'Shorts.'

She eyed them sceptically. 'And what do I wear them with?'

'A T-shirt. Flip-flops.'

'Flip-flops?'

'Footwear.'

She held the shorts against her hips and glanced back at him. 'What else do I wear on my legs?'

'Ah, nothing.'

She frowned. 'On the street?'

'Sure.'

She shook her head. 'No.' She jumped up off the bed and inspected the  closet. A century later she came out holding a pair of jeans. 'Where are  my usual clothes?'

'I thought you'd be more comfortable in Western clothing.'

Her mouth pinched together and, just as he readied himself for an  argument, she surprised him and huffed out a breath. 'I'll try them.'

Thinking the day couldn't get any better, he nearly choked when she  came out after her shower dressed in the T-shirt and jeans. She pulled  at the denim but they just sprung back into place, hugging her toned  thighs as if they were sprayed on. 'These don't fit.'

Zach nodded. 'Turn around.'

She did a quick twirl and he frowned. 'You've just given me another idea,' he said.

'What?'

'I'm going to tell Nadir to make the wearing of jeans mandatory for all women in Bakaan, stat.'

She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips and a shaft of sweet  pleasure shot straight to Zach's heart. 'Be serious,' she chided.                       
       
           



       

'I am.' He strolled towards her and curled his fingers into the  waistband of her jeans, wondering if he'd ever felt happier than he did  right now. 'Very serious about making love to my wife one more time.'

* * *

Farah couldn't stop smiling as they stepped out of the villa and into  the bright sunshine. She hadn't expected to feel this...this  light-hearted about being married; this light-hearted about the man she  was married to. She snuck a quick glance at him and tried not to ogle  him in his fitted T-shirt, denims and tapered sunglasses.

When he took her hand her heart seemed to skip a beat and she focused  on her surroundings to tamp down the emotions she instinctively knew she  had to keep in check.

The harbour town was totally beautiful with its aqua-blue bay, sandy  beaches and rows of pastel-coloured high-rise apartments and villas set  into the hillside.

But it was the people who held most of her attention, old and young and  dressed in every combination of clothing she had ever seen in her  magazines. One woman even had a small dog in her handbag with a  diamond-studded collar and a bow in its hair. And then there was the  trio of eye-catching women promenading towards them. They were slender  to the point of being skinny, tanned golden-brown and wearing... She  frowned, unable to recall what the word was for what looked like  underwear. And they were looking at Zach as if they wanted to eat him  alive.

'Careful, habiba, you're about to cut off my circulation.'

'I'm sorry.' Farah instantly eased her grip on his hand. 'I just... Those women aren't wearing any clothes.'

Zach chuckled. 'They're wearing bikinis. Swimwear,' he elaborated when she looked at him blankly.

'They're positively indecent,' she whispered.

'Sexy,' he corrected.

'You think they're sexy?'

His eyes skated over her body. 'Sure. On the right woman.'

Before she could ask who the right woman was, he redirected her. 'Down here.'

Farah continued to be bug-eyed as Zach led her along a beautiful pier  lined with yachts the size of tall buildings. At the end was a row of  streamlined boats, much smaller and shaped like brightly coloured race  cars without wheels. Men were scurrying around them and, combined with  the sound of the engines revving and the smell of petrol, the air was  alive with a sense of expectation and fun. More girls in bikinis lined  the pier, leaning over the weathered railing like decorations.

Sticking close to Zach, Farah feigned a nonchalance she was far from  feeling while he introduced her to his two friends from earlier and a  group of other men and women who were clearly enamoured by the prince.

When one of the men suggested Zach take the boat for a test run, she  saw his face light up. 'And I thought I was going to have to pull the  owner card to get the gig.'

Owner? He owned the boats?

Turning to her, he checked if she was okay and she nodded. No way was  she going to let him know that she was feeling completely out of her  depth and wishing they were back in the apartment. Back in bed.

It was only when the shiny speedboat revved away from the pier and took  off in a powerful arc of white water that she felt riveted to the spot.