The Sheikh’s Royal Seduction: Desert Sheikhs Book One Page 2

  “Timak!” Her voice came out hoarse as she darted past the guard, heading back to the enclosure gate. “Can’t you help me out here? This guy can’t be serious.”

  Timak grimaced, and Alex looked behind her just as the guard came up and snatched her arm again. Iron grip. She tugged, but there was no escaping his burly embrace. Panic welled up in her.

  “Oh, come on.” Her voice came out pinched. “This is a fucking joke, right?”

  “No joke.” The guard led her out of the enclosure. Timak followed apologetically, the useless ally that he was.

  “I’m sure this will just be for a short time—” Timak began.

  “You guys are fucking nuts!” She repeated. She resisted the guard’s lead, but it was impossible to break free from him. Any further attempt might result in her being dragged like an insolent child. She cycled through outbursts in her head but came up empty of anything useful. What could she truly threaten the sheikh with? Calling her lawyer? She was the lone dog in a strange land; he probably owned half the government. She had nowhere to turn. She’d gotten herself into this mess by accepting the emergency call without properly vetting the prince.

  Her chest heaved as she combed through potential outcomes in her mind’s eye. Once they took her wherever, she could probably find a way to escape. Or maybe even reason with Timak. Get him to call the helicopter back and help her escape in the night. He seemed reasonable; or maybe he was a similar capture from eons past. Forced to live as a zookeeper by a childish Zatar who insisted on playing with visitors like his own personal dolls.

  Fuck.

  Some of the oomph went out of her struggle as the guard led her closer to the palace. The winding path sloped downward, giving way to a sprawling garden surrounding the palace proper. Dried up fountains loomed silent and barren as they passed, exotic blossoms drooping under the oppressive weight of the heat. Gravel crunched underfoot as the guard hung a right and took her down a small side path.

  Unease shuddered through her. This could end very poorly. She snapped back to focus, forgetting the opulence for a moment. “Where the fuck are we going?”

  “Your quarters.”

  The response made her pause. Quarters sounded fancy. What, after all, did a sheikh’s home look like? She blinked, frowning at the variegated palms lining the walkway. It didn’t matter how fancy it was; she was being kept against her will.

  Alex opened her mouth to protest, but giggles wafted through the air. Lilting feminine voices made her eager to find the source. Maybe this was a dream after all—some sort of bizarre, sort-of-don’t-want-to-wake-up dream in which this capture resulted in wild sex with the hot sheikh in an infinity pool overlooking Mars. Or something.

  The neatly manicured hedges gave way to a patio lined with blood lilies and jasmine. The fragrance nearly sent Alex to her knees. Lounging in hammocks and draped over cushions were a bevy of beautiful women. All were dressed in equally revealing swimsuits and flashed darkly lined eyes and breasts that would make a porn star weep.

  Alex blinked at the women, unsure where they fit into the scheme of things here. Is this a harem? They couldn’t all be Zatar’s sisters. There were too many of them. Unless, of course, his father…

  “This way.” The guard yanked at her elbow at the same time several women lowered their sunglasses to peer at Alex. Snide giggles erupted in her wake. Humiliation slashed through her, a juvenile reaction spurred by a childhood of always being the nerdy one. The animal lover. The one with the awkward khakis. Now as an adult, she could afford to distance herself from people who questioned her lifestyle or personality. But being stared down by a gaggle of model-like Middle Eastern women didn’t inspire much confidence, either.

  Their footsteps clicked softly over shiny, marble floors. Pillars soared upward, supporting a domed ceiling dappled with gemstones. By the time they turned down a hallway, Alex realized the guard had dropped her arm. Perhaps a while ago, even. She slowed her steps. The guard turned gruffly, sending her a warning look.

  So this was what the fine line between paradise and imprisonment looked like. The guard gestured toward a door in the hallway. “Your room is here. His majesty will be with you shortly.”

  Before she could even open her mouth to ask a question, the guard had stomped off. She looked up and down the now-empty hallway, weighing her options. Those women out there might be able to help her…or at least answer some questions. Escaping the grounds seemed improbable, at least until she got a feel for the property. And Timak? He might be no better than a puppet, but she wouldn’t rule him out.

  Okay. You can do this. Now let’s check out the bedroom.

  The door creaked as she pushed on the golden knob in the shape of an elephant head. A large room greeted her, a four-poster bed in the middle. A small bathroom opened off to the side, and windows overlooked the garden they’d come through. She ran her hand over the light-blue silken bedspread. Good lord. If this was the guest room, she couldn’t imagine the actual sheikh’s quarters.

  Alex spun on her heel, overcome with resolve. No matter how unnerving the glances of those women had been, they were the only humans with potential answers she could reach right now. Her determined footsteps reassured her as she stormed back out of her room. Opulence wouldn’t sway her. She needed answers. And girl power would reign strong here, she could already feel it.

  She followed the lilting voices as if they were a road map. The bright sun beat down on her once she re-entered the gardens. This time when she reached the periphery of the patio, all eyes turned toward her.

  She swallowed hard. Their gazes didn’t feel particularly friendly. In fact, maybe these women were one more type of animal Zatar kept on the grounds. She approached the nearest lady, trying to keep her back straight and her gaze steady. The woman raised a perfectly painted black brow, her hair cascading in waves around her shoulders.

  “Hi. I’m Alex. You, uh…you don’t know me, of course, but I just wanted to see if any of you could, uh…help me.”

  The lady’s plump red lips pursed. The sunglasses lowered, revealing lushly decorated eyes. These women didn’t skimp on the femininity.

  “Help you.” Her voice was a heavily accented purr. “Why do you need help?”

  “Zatar. He, uh, kidnapped me? I guess?” In her mind’s eye, she was the squawking sixteen-year-old again, wringing her hands in front of the impossible cool of the prom queen. “I’m a veterinarian. He called me here to check on his lioness, but now he says I have to stay here.” When the expected outrage was missing, Alex added, “That’s insane. You know? He can’t just keep me here.”

  The lady laughed as she turned to look at the women behind her. The rest of them erupted in a chorus of laughter that sent a chill down her spine.

  “And why would you want to leave here?” Another woman approached, her hips swaying as she sauntered nearer. “This is paradise.”

  Alex blinked, looking between the two women who had addressed her. “Yes, I can see that it’s quite lovely here. But I think you’re mistaking the sentiment. I have a life outside of here.” Inside her head, the word lie flashed like a neon sign. Her life was going on emergency calls to tend sick animals…and that was it. She had no loved ones waiting for her. Hell, she didn’t have a plant that needed watered. “It’s entirely inappropriate to kidnap a veterinarian on the job.”

  Alex crossed her arms over her chest while the women shared smug looks. A few quips in a foreign language floated through the air. She furrowed her brow. “What was that?”

  “She said you should feel lucky.” The one nearest to her strutted closer, her lips curling into a self-assured smile. “For someone with such plain features, it is a compliment that Prince Zatar chose you. Your hair is in this boring style. You have short nails. Anywhere else, he would not have looked twice.”

  Alex’s mouth slowly fell open, the words echoing through her head. This ponytail wasn’t boring, it was necessary. And had any of these women ever tried to deliver a lion cub with lo
ng nails? Alex didn’t know whether to be offended or amused.

  “Okay.” Alex’s hands dropped to her side and she turned. “Thanks for your help.” So much for girl power.

  “But wait!” The shrill voice of another lady made Alex pause. She turned to look back at the harem. “The sheikh will be here soon to make his selection. Although maybe you don’t want to stay…you will be embarrassed when he doesn’t choose you.”

  Alex wilted. She couldn’t be serious. Not unless she’d stepped onto the set of a truly awful B movie. “Oh, come on. His ‘selection’?”

  “Each night he takes one of us with him to his room.” A brunette with flashing brown eyes sauntered nearer. “When we’re lucky, we get father and son together.”

  “Oh, Christ. Come on. That’s…no. Just no.” Alex sliced her hands through the air and stomped away. If even an ounce of what these ladies said was true, she wanted no part of this sickening palace. And maybe this was what usually went on behind closed doors for the clients she attended. It wasn’t her business to find out, but then again, most paying clients didn’t also kidnap her.

  Whatever the case was with Prince Zatar and his Freaky Harem of Beautiful Bitches, she wanted no part of it.

  * * *

  Zatar stayed with Sala until the sun grew golden and sat low on the horizon. His stomach grumbled; he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Time slunk away under the weight of his worry, and it was only Timak’s gentle hand on his shoulder that reminded him he needed to tend to his own wellbeing.

  “Sir. Your dinner will be ready soon.”

  Zatar grumbled as he rolled over and pushed to standing. He took a moment to arrange his keffiyah before replying. He didn’t know why he bothered with the thing. Sala didn’t care if he wore it. “Will you stay with her?”

  “Yes. Of course.” Timak bowed.

  “And were you able to order the medicine?”

  Timak paused. “I’m working on it, sir. It’s not readily available within Kattahar, so we’re locating the best source in the region.”

  Zatar grunted his approval and bent to stroke his beloved lioness one last time before he strode out of the enclosure. As he approached the palace, his mind wandered to the veterinarian. How long had it been since he sent her away? It seemed like only an hour, but his growling stomach suggested otherwise.

  Zatar stalked through the gardens, scowling at the harem girl Ilia who approached him. She always wore the same smug smirk, no matter how many times he made his wishes plain.

  “Sheikh Zatar—” she began.

  “No.” He held up a hand before she could come closer. Ilia scowled and returned to the women clustered on the patio. No matter how many times he asked his father to take his desperate harem of women elsewhere, the old man insisted on keeping them close. He said they were a comfort, especially in the trying times since Zatar’s mother’s death. But Zatar suspected his father meant comfort in a way that had nothing to do with grieving or handholding.

  At the veterinarian’s room, Zatar knocked twice and then leaned in to listen. Behind the door, there wasn’t even a whisper.

  “Ms. Seaton.” Zatar cleared his throat. “May I please come in?”

  “Fuck off, Prince Zatar. And just so you know, it’s Doctor Seaton.

  His brows shot up. Women didn’t tend to react to him this way. Actually, no one usually treated him with such blatant disrespect. Even if he may have interrupted their plans with his own.

  “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. May I join you for dinner?”

  “Fuck off.”

  Zatar sighed, clenching his fists. This was hardly an inconvenience to her, especially since he would pay handsomely for her time. “There’s no need to be so angry.”

  The door flew open, Alex’s teardrop face contorted into a snarl. Even when she was pissed, she was gorgeous in a way that made him pause. She wasn’t beautiful because of makeup or revealing clothing, the type of pretty that his father consistently surrounded himself with. Alex had a beauty that felt comforting yet provocative, like looking at an ancient oil painting of lounging goddesses.

  “No need to be angry?” The vitriol in her words snapped him to attention. “You’re holding me hostage here.”

  “You’re on a job,” Zatar clarified. “And the job is not done.”

  “My job ended at one p.m.” She made a big display of looking at her watch. “Seven hours ago.”

  “I can’t let you leave until I am positive that Sala will be okay.” He held his hands out to his side. “This is non-negotiable.”

  “Yeah, clearly.” Her nostrils flared.

  “I apologize for not visiting you sooner. Time slipped away. Can we talk over dinner?”

  “No. Now fuck off.” Alex stepped back and reached for the door. Zatar held up his hand before she slammed it in his face.

  “You have had a long day, and I have been an improper host.” He took a deep breath, stilling the urge to scold her for speaking to him so rudely. She wasn’t from his country; and furthermore, she was angry. He tried to be understanding. “I’ve sent for dinner. It will be arriving momentarily.”

  Her fiery gaze darted up and down his body, leaving a curious wake of goosebumps. He liked being under her observation. Liked it a little too much.

  “Improper host.” She scoffed, turning away from him. “Yeah, you could say that. In my county we’d call you a kidnapper, but hey. Semantics.”

  He nodded, digesting the sarcasm. “And in yet another country still, I’d be labeled a conscientious caretaker who would do anything for his family.”

  Silence stretched between them as Alex retreated to the far corner of the room, sinking onto the cushions of the window seat overlooking the gardens. Her long creamy legs crossed at the ankles, her shorts riding up that delicious thigh he couldn’t look away from. After a few moments, she looked over at him. “What are you still doing here?”

  “Waiting for you to invite me inside.” He gestured at the threshold, which he hadn’t crossed.

  “Oh, so you’ll imprison me, but you’ll respect my privacy while you do it?” She scoffed. “That’s quaint.”

  A grin flickered at his lips but he squashed it. “Kattahar has certain customs.”

  “So you admit imprisonment is one of them?”

  A laugh escaped him, and he rolled his lips inward. Despite her anger, she was a breath of fresh air around here. She couldn’t know how foul life had grown since the death of his mother. Nothing pleased him. He’d grown bored with everything except his animals. The only source of joy in life.

  “Is that why you’re so obsessed with that lion?” She continued, arching a brow. Those sky-blue eyes sent a jolt through him. “You love to imprison things.”

  He straightened. “You’re wrong. Sala was a gift to me. From my mother. She and I were able to raise Sala together. It was one of the greatest joys in my life.” He swallowed a knot of emotion, studying the mandala patterns of the inlaid stones beneath his feet. “Sala is all I have left of my mother.”

  The servants with the dinner carts approached, silverware clanking. Thank God for the distraction. Zatar waved them nearer as Alex perked up.

  “What’s that?”

  “Our dinner. If you’ll have it.”

  Alex came to the door, eyes widening as she spotted the approaching carts with domed lids. The scent of lamb reached him. Hopefully this would take the edge off her ire.

  “May we eat in your room?” Zatar swept his hand toward the small dinette in the corner of the guest room.

  Alex stared at the cart as the dinner attendant stopped outside the door. She shrugged, ambling toward the table. “Sure.”

  Zatar instructed the attendant in Arabic and then paused when he heard snickering from down the hall. He strode toward the noise, discovering Ilia and another harem girl lingering nearby.

  “Leave us in peace,” he spat in Arabic. “She doesn’t need you bothering her. And neither do I.” The girls were constantly curious about his
comings and goings. He’d made the mistake of sleeping with Ilia last year right after his mother’s death, and ever since then the girls had made it their personal sport to see who could get in bed with him next. His sadness had pushed him through a scary tunnel of excess and self-abuse veiled as pleasure: late night races in his Lamborghini, gambling away a million dollars in one day, sex with women just so that he could feel something other than sadness. But he’d only made the mistake of choosing a harem girl once.

  Now, the sadness had given way to a dull void. One that ached with the memory of something much grander and more beautiful. A void that he knew nothing could fill.

  Zatar made sure the girls were gone, then returned to Alex’s room, tersely thanking the attendant before resuming his post at the threshold. “May I enter?”

  She glanced up at him from the table and then nodded almost imperceptibly. He stepped into the bedroom, a slight thrill tremoring through him. He’d been in plenty of women’s bedrooms before; too many to count. But her personal space was charged with something extra.

  Something he was desperate to get more of.

  3

  Alex tried to keep her eyes off Zatar during dinner, but it was hard to look away from the sulky prince. Mystery clung to him like a sweater. She’d never met a man, especially a prince, who would be caught dead nurturing an animal the way Zatar cared for Sala.

  And the man had almost cried talking about his dead mother. Alex stabbed a perfectly steamed floret of broccoli, her gaze drifting back up to Zatar. Yeah, this guy was an interesting one. Kidnapping and all.

  “Is it to your liking?” Zatar’s hazel eyes twinkled, making her belly flutter. Dammit, why did her captor have to be so good-looking? She frowned down at the lambchops.

  “Yeah. It’s great.” Truth was the flavors were near orgasmic. She didn’t want to look too impressed though. He might start to think she was enjoying herself around here. Which she most certainly was not. At least not entirely.

  Something thudded against the window. Alex whipped around to look. “Holy shit, I think someone just threw something at the window.”