The Sheikh Who Claimed Her: Master of the Desert / The Sheikh's Reluctant Bride / Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife

CHAPTER TEN

SHE was alone with Ra’id. Even the servants had vanished. Now there was just echoing silence and the most powerful man in the Gulf—a man whose unwavering gaze was now fixed on her. This was no susceptible lover who would be thrilled to hear about a baby, but a hard man of the desert—a warrior who would stop at nothing to protect his people, a man without the luxury of a heart. She would have to be honest with him. She would explain first about the charity, and when the business part of the meeting was over she would tell him her most important news. She had to draw on her courage and remember the meeting earlier that day. The men who reported to the sheikh had all been broadly in agreement with her plan—subject, of course, to their sheikh’s approval.

But had she made herself clear enough to Ra’id? Antonia wondered when he continued to stare at her as if she had unwittingly committed some terrible sin. Opening her hands in appeal, she pressed on. ‘It goes without saying that the charity will stand all the expense incurred in building this facility, and we’ll be happy to pay the going rate for the land.’

‘The going rate?’

His reaction terrified her. Springing to his feet, Ra’id cast a long shadow over the table as he leaned his balled up fists upon it. It was almost a relief when he straightened up and turned his back on her to walk some paces away.

But what had she done? She could not remember feeling quite so threatened, and any thought she might have had of talking about their child had vanished. In fact, glancing at the door, she realised her primary concern now was to protect her child from this man she didn’t feel as if she knew at all.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

She shrank back as Ra’id spun on his heels to confront her when she started collecting up her things. ‘I can see it’s not convenient for you to see me right now.’

‘When will there be a better time?’ he said, cutting her off at the door.

‘Ra’id, please …’ Tears were threatening, and she hated herself for the weakness, knowing this was a man who would not care to see her cry.

‘Ra’id, please,’ he mimicked cruelly. ‘What is it this time, Tuesday? Are you here for a pay-off—or would you like a little more action first?’

‘Ra’id, don’t,’ she begged, turning her face from his stinging scorn. ‘I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. Please, let me go.’

‘Not until we’ve discussed this land that seems to mean so much to you.’ His voice was harsh and cruel, and his touch was unrelenting as he steered her back to the table. ‘Sit down,’ he said, indicating the seat next to his. ‘You’ve seen this, of course?’

As she shakily sank onto the chair, he pushed a sheaf of documents in front of her. ‘No. What are they?’

‘I have copies,’ he said, when she didn’t even know what he was talking about.

She glanced at the title on the topmost sheet. ‘I don’t understand—this is a deed of land granted by your father to my mother.’

‘Well done,’ he said derisively. ‘One of your best performances to date. You almost have me fooled.’

Antonia shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I’m trying to make sense of this. I’m sorry if I’m not as quick as you …’

‘Take your time.’ His voice was full of disdain.

‘You knew my mother?’ Antonia glanced up in confusion, and then her gaze returned to her mother’s name as if just reading it could somehow protect her.

‘It would be hard for me not to know my father’s concubine.’

‘What?’ The room began to spin. She had heard Ra’id, and yet her mind refused to accept what he’d said to her. Pushing her chair back, she stumbled awkwardly away from the table. ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ she admitted in a voice turned dry and faint.

‘You don’t?’ Ra’id’s hard face mirrored his disbelief. ‘Let me stop your performance before you get started. And understand this, Antonia—I have no interest in learning how dear your mother was to you, or how much you meant to each other—let alone how passionately she wanted you to have this land in Sinnebar.’

‘Land?’ Antonia demanded with amazement. ‘What land?’

‘Oh, please,’ Ra’id said, shaking his head. ‘Can’t you do better than that? You will never rise from the ranks of the chorus to become a full-blown leading lady if you can’t put on a better act.’

‘This is no act,’ she protested, feeling as if a vice were closing around her chest. ‘I had no idea my mother even knew your father, let alone that she was his mistress.’

‘That’s a polite name for it.’

‘Stop, Ra’id—please, stop it!’ Holding out her hand as if to fend him off, she willed him to stop heaping insults on top of the confusion inside her. Then it occurred to her that as her heart had just been ripped in two he couldn’t do any more harm.

She returned quietly to the table where she sat down and scrutinised the documents. She had inherited land in Sinnebar and a property from her mother. She couldn’t have been more surprised. The news that Helena had been the late sheikh’s mistress on top of this …

But Ra’id gave her no chance to recover. ‘Do you still pretend you know nothing of this?’

‘Nothing—I swear.’ It was hard to take in the facts. Not only had her young mother been the late sheikh’s mistress, but Helena had been paid off when the sheikh had tired of her with this gift of land. It was clear the late sheikh had thought nothing of this valuable gift of territory within Sinnebar, while Ra’id viewed it quite differently. Ra’id was the highly principled conservator of a kingdom and guardian of his people, and no greater sin could have been committed as far as he was concerned. She could understand his resentment. She had inherited a parcel of his people’s land. It was a gift that had been passed from Helena to Antonia, who was not the daughter of the late sheikh but Antonio Ruggiero, the man who had rescued her mother from this life of …

She had no idea what her mother’s life had been like, Antonia realised with a sharp pang of regret. Raising her gaze to meet Ra’id’s hard, uncompromising stare, she knew she’d get no pity from him. But he still dazzled her, unreachable as he was. He was like a dark force framed in light, and one she must soften if her proposal for the charity was to succeed.

‘I will use the land for the good of your people,’ she said, feeling her strength and her courage return as a plan began to take shape in her mind.

‘You can only do that with my permission.’

‘But you will—’ She had sprung up too quickly, and now she was paying the price. ‘You must,’ she said weakly, clutching the table for support.

‘Are you ill?’ Ra’id demanded, observing her keenly.

‘No, I’m not ill,’ she managed, instantly protective of her baby. Ra’id’s child was a royal baby and could be stolen away from her by the stroke of his pen. She had to be cautious now.

‘A drink of water, perhaps?’ he suggested.

Antonia nodded, glad of the reprieve, and also relieved that even in his darkest rage Ra’id still had some flicker of humanity left in him. She sucked in a deep, steadying breath as he poured some water for her. Pregnancy might have weakened her, but what it couldn’t do was lessen her resolve, and she would not fail for want of defending herself against Ra’id’s unfair accusations.

‘This doesn’t change anything,’ he said, handing her the glass of water. ‘You have your mother’s blood in you.’

‘As you have your father’s,’ she flashed back. Ra’id might frighten her, but she was no doormat to be insulted by anyone. She wouldn’t give up, her gaze plainly told him; she didn’t know how to. This was her last chance to find out about her mother, to build a branch of the charity here and make it thrive. ‘It would be a tragic mistake if you allowed your feelings for me to impact negatively on what we can achieve together with the charity.’

His expression remained unchanged. It was as hostile as ever. It wouldn’t be so easy this time to build a bridge between them, Antonia realised, but she was as determined to push her proposals for the charity through as she was determined that her child would know its mother. Ra’id might be all ruthless, barbaric force, while she only had a dream to sustain her, but she had a store of stubbornness she hadn’t even begun to draw on yet. ‘I’ll need planning permission.’

‘To do what?’ he demanded.

‘Having read through this document, I see there’s an old fort on the land I have inherited.’ Ignoring his darkening expression, she went on. ‘I shall restore that.’

‘So you persist in this fantasy?’ he interrupted.

‘Obviously I would consult you first where any changes were concerned,’ Antonia rushed on, determined he would hear her.

‘You should know the land your mother left you lacks its own water supply.’

She made the mistake of staring into his eyes in confusion, only to see that the mockery she expected was mixed with slumbering passion in his gaze. ‘You’re enjoying this,’ she said faintly, shocked to think that Ra’id could still want to bed his prey when he was so obviously relishing this opportunity to destroy her.

‘The water course is on the wrong side of your border—and, unfortunately, you have no access to it.’

‘Unless you permit it?’ she guessed.

‘And I won’t permit it.’ Ra’id’s dark gaze glittered with triumph.

‘So my land is …?’

‘Worthless,’ Ra’id confirmed.

‘But not to me,’ Antonia insisted, remembering her plans. ‘The land is not worthless to me.’

‘Arid desert? What will you do with it—offer camel rides?’

‘That’s cruel and unnecessary, Ra’id, especially with the prospect of you opening a branch of my brother’s charity here in Sinnebar.’

‘Only if I head up the ruling council of that charity.’

‘Is there anything you don’t rule?’

There was one thing—or rather one person—Ra’id reflected as Antonia pursued her argument. He had forgotten how persistent she could be. How irritating.

How desirable …

He watched her closely, noticing how her gaze softened when she spotted some ancient artefact, or when she stared dreamily into the middle distance as she formulated her plan, only for that gaze to harden and grow anxious when he’d mentioned the drawbacks to the old fort she had inherited. Would she fight for it? Remembering the girl who had swum through a storm to reach land, he had no doubt she would. Although she could only find the idea of visiting an ancient citadel where her mother had spent her last few months in Sinnebar incarcerated intimidating, rather as if the ancient building had the potential to become Antonia’s prison too.

She had not yet broken free from her safe cocoon at home, though she badly wanted to, he concluded. So what was holding her back? Was it him? Was she frightened of him? Or was Antonia more frightened by the secret she was hiding from him?

As if sensing the way his thoughts were turning, she met his gaze, and that briefest of stares told him all he needed to know.

When Ra’id took a step closer Antonia’s throat closed, and her gaze fixed on the jewelled belt on his robe. The rampant lion worked in gold thread clutching a very large sapphire in its deadly paws was exactly as she had pictured it, and she though it a perfect illustration of his power. But she had a small child sheltering inside her, and was responsible for other children who couldn’t help themselves. She had to ignore her own fears and press on. ‘If the old fort is habitable, I could live there myself and supervise the renovations.’

‘Are you mad?’ Ra’id thundered.

Mad? Yes, and very frightened, at the thought of taking a baby into the desert—a baby who hadn’t even been born yet. But if she turned around and went home she felt sure she would never be allowed back into Sinnebar and everything she had set out to achieve would fail. ‘According to those documents you showed me, I am entitled—’

‘You are entitled to nothing without my permission,’ Ra’id assured her in a deadly quiet voice.

He was very close to her, and his intoxicating scent was scrambling her brain. She had to forget everything they had ever been to each other. Ra’id must know she hadn’t changed or weakened just because he was a king, and that she was as determined as she had ever been to carry all her plans through. ‘So the rule of law means nothing in Sinnebar?’ she challenged boldly.

She might not have spoken for all the good it did her. ‘I will pay you for the land,’ Ra’id told her coolly. ‘Money is no object. Name your price.’

Her body shook with a tremor of revulsion. ‘I don’t have a price,’ she said fiercely, searching for some semblance of the man she had known in Ra’id’s eyes.

‘I will buy the land from you,’ he explained as if he thought her mind had failed her.

‘It isn’t for sale.’

This was truly a man she didn’t know, Antonia thought as Ra’id’s eyes narrowed. This fearsome ruler of Sinnebar bore not the slightest resemblance to the tender lover she had spent one glorious day and night with three months ago. This man was hard and brutal, and he didn’t have a heart—or, if he did, it was as cold as the gleaming sapphire on his belt. Ra’id al Maktabi was a warrior forged from steel; a man she considered had nothing to offer the child she already loved so deeply and completely. But, with a mission to complete, she could allow no time for sentiment. ‘Before I leave for the property I have inherited,’ she said firmly, ‘I would like to see my mother’s room.’

The silence crackled with tension as they faced each other. Both of them were rigid with resolve. Ra’id was clearly astonished that anyone would challenge his authority, while Antonia was equally determined not to back down. It was an impasse from which there seemed no escape until, to her surprise, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

‘I see no reason why you should not be taken to see Helena’s room,’ he said.

‘By you?’ Antonia demanded, feeling her confidence seep away.

‘Who better to show you round? I am more than happy to take you to see your mother’s room,’ he said. ‘And tomorrow morning I will take you into the desert to see your land.’

Even as Antonia’s eyes widened and her lips parted with surprise, she wondered why she felt so sure that the granting of a wish had never carried greater danger. It wasn’t just the thought of taking her unborn child into dangerous territory, she realised, but the very real threat radiating from Ra’id. Then she reasoned that the desert was not an environment to enter lightly, especially now she was pregnant, and who better to guide her than Ra’id?

But if she hoped to soften him …

Hope springs eternal, Antonia remembered, gazing up into Ra’id’s cold eyes. But he held the key to turning her dream for the charity into reality. The old fort could only live again with Ra’id’s water supply, and that was one dream she wasn’t letting go of. And how better to find the chance to tell him the news about their baby than spending time with him?

No, she had no option. If she was to have a chance of success she must be as committed to her purpose as Ra’id was to his.

‘Your mother’s room?’ he prompted.

‘I’m ready,’ she said.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HE COULD feel Antonia’s suppressed excitement as he led the way down gilded corridors to the east wing of the palace, where the shutters had remained drawn for years, and the rooms were neglected and cast in shade. He could feel her fear and apprehension too. He could feel everything Antonia was feeling in the same unspoken transfer of energy he’d felt between them on the desert island, when he had been Saif and Antonia had gone by the name he’d given her. But there had been a change in Antonia since then. She had matured. She might have trembled at her first sight of him, but the flame of purpose had returned to her gaze. This wasn’t the adolescent who had ransacked his yacht to claim her piece of bread and cheese, but a woman who would not easily be dismissed. Perhaps the sight of her mother’s room would change that, he mused as they reached the door.

Antonia could hardly believe she was really here, within touching distance of her mother’s room. It was hard to catch her breath when Ra’id halted outside the golden door. The workmanship on the jewel-studded panelling was more fabulous than anything she could have imagined. ‘Is it real gold?’ she asked naively as she admired the intricate workmanship.

‘Everything you see that looks like gold is gold,’ Ra’id informed her with no emotion in his voice. ‘Shall we go in?’

‘Oh, yes please!’ she exclaimed, hardly daring to blink in case she missed anything. Her sense of anticipation was indescribable, and she put all thoughts of Ra’id knowing something she didn’t—something unpleasant, maybe—out of her mind.

‘Could we turn on a light?’ she asked, hesitating on the threshold.

‘Certainly.’ Reaching past her, Ra’id switched on a cobweb-strewn chandelier. Even now he made her tingle, Antonia felt, touching her cheek as she walked deeper into the room.

Whatever she had expected after seeing that golden door, it was not this shadowy interior, with sheets draped over the furniture and dust motes floating in stagnant air. But what affected her most was the atmosphere of abandonment, she realised, slowly turning full circle. It was as if the walls were soaked through with loneliness and sadness. Her first impression was that this was not the happy nest of a pretty girl, but a prison, a cage—a gilded cage for the discarded mistress of a ruler who had tired of her and moved on. But her mother hadn’t moved on, Antonia thought sadly as she trailed her fingertips across the yellowing cover of a fashion magazine. She thought that the saddest artefact of all. ‘It doesn’t look as if this room has been touched since my mother left for Italy,’ she said, rallying determinedly as she turned to speak to Ra’id.

She thought he seemed surprised she was holding it together. She raised an eyebrow, as if to say that nothing would shake her from her path—and that if anything this clearer picture of the young woman who had been her mother had only strengthened her resolve.

He watched her closely. Knowing Antonia’s background, he had been half-expecting this indulged child of a fabulously wealthy father to cross straight to her mother’s dressing table, where a tumble of priceless jewellery still lay in a careless heap. The valuable gems were awaiting collection and a detailed inventory by his team of assessors, and would have attracted most people’s interest. But Antonia had stood in silence when she’d entered the room as if she were battling some emotion greater than he could grasp. It was an emotion that made her shudder and clamp her jaw so hard a muscle jumped in her cheek.

The seconds ticked by while both of them remained quite still, and then, instead of crossing to the dressing table, she went to the wall of windows and started sliding bolts back on the shutters. ‘Can you help me?’ she called to him, as if this was just an ordinary task. ‘No need; I’ve done it,’ she said, spinning round in triumph when he was halfway across the room. She opened every window to its fullest extent and light streamed in; with it came the warm, scented air. ‘That’s better!’ she exclaimed, turning back to face the room.

She stood quite still for a moment and then proceeded to examine everything in orderly sequence. Having apparently satisfied herself, she made for the large double bed on its plinth in the centre, walking past the jewels flashing fire on the dressing table and on across the room. She ignored a silk gown glinting with rubies, that drooped sadly from a padded hanger, until she reached the bed, where she stared down for a moment until inch by inch she sank into a heap on the floor, as if the bones were slowly melting in her legs.

He was a hard man, who had made many hard decisions since taking the throne, and had seen many things in his lifetime that should have affected him but had left his factual mind largely untroubled. Yet when he saw Antonia weeping by her mother’s bedside he had to turn and leave the room.

He was showing respect, Ra’id reasoned, leaning back against the door. He drew breath to steady his emotions, but however hard a face he turned to Antonia he could not stand by and see her broken. Her defiance was so much easier to deal with, he reasoned, knowing deep down he had hoped she would exclaim with pleasure when she saw all the pretty things in her mother’s room. But instead she had got to the heart of the matter.

The heart of the matter …

Yes; the heart of the matter was the searing sense of loneliness and rejection Helena must have felt before Antonio Ruggiero had arrived and rescued her. He could see that now, thanks to Antonia.

But he could not hark back to a happier time on the desert island, because that was stolen time, time he still regretted. His life, every moment of his existence, was devoted to a country and its people, and that was where his duty lay; on that there could be no compromise. Antonia was not simply a girl he was attracted to, she was a threat to his people’s future happiness, with those documents granting her land in Sinnebar. He would not allow chaos to return to his country. He would bury the past, whatever it took.