Innocent in the Desert: The Sheikh's Impatient Virgin / The Sheikh's Convenient Virgin / The Desert Lord's Bride

CHAPTER NINE

KARIM hadn’t been away the three days he had said, but an entire week.

He had got back the day before the reception to introduce Eva to the great and good was scheduled. An event that had taken on awesome and daunting significance in her mind.

Now, about to accompany him to the reception, she said, ‘I can’t do this.’ And he was a selfish monster to imagine she could. Back and not a damned word about where he’d been or with whom!

Karim tore his eyes from her neckline and the creamy cleft between her breasts. ‘You don’t have to do anything. Just be charming.’

The instruction made her roll her eyes in angry despair that was not feigned. ‘How?’

‘If in doubt say nothing.’ It was not as easy as it sounded. Saying nothing when he had wanted to say all he could think about was sinking into her, or saying nothing when he wanted to tell her he wanted to kiss her and have her taste him in her mouth had not been as easy as it sounded.

It had been hell!

He felt simultaneously torn and guilty—torn between his duty to his father and his desire to be with his new wife, and guilt that the duty weighed so heavily.

He had arrived to discover that his father’s condition had indeed deteriorated, to a degree that was painful to observe. To see the once robust man a broken and frail shadow of his former self had made him want to turn and run like a coward, but of course he had not followed his shameful base instincts—he had kissed his father and soothed him when he flinched.

It had taken time but after a week, and with several changes in his drug regime, he had left his father as well as he would ever be.

Now he was back and all the talk was of this damned reception. Dieu, he could not understand why he had arranged it. To make Eva’s transition easier by introducing her to his world had been his idea … Right now the last thing he felt like doing was sharing her. The hunger in his body roared like a furnace.

‘That should make a great impression—a dumb wife.’

It amazed her that as an intelligent man it hadn’t occurred to him that a simple confidence-boosting lie—You look incredible—would have worked fine and might have given her the courage and confidence she needed.

A kiss might have helped, but that wasn’t going to happen unless she asked … It had to be her choice, a choice made all the more difficult by the obvious fact—it was hard to interpret his disappearing act any other way—Karim intended to carry on with his life just as he had before he had married.

She had to face facts and not carry on clinging to a fantasy.

When she had asked Tariq outright where Karim was, to say the man had been cagey was an understatement. He had dripped guilt.

His response that he wasn’t sure would not have fooled a baby—Tariq always knew where Karim was. He was generally one step behind, so Karim wanted his privacy—to Eva’s way of thinking there was only one possible reason for his strange behaviour: Karim had been with a mistress.

It all fitted.

And yet last night she had gone to his room … what was wrong with her? Her cheeks burned with mortified heat at the memory. Of course it had been with the intention of laying down some rules of her own—her story and she was sticking to it.

He’d asked her to think about what she wanted and she had and she wanted an exclusive relationship or no relationship at all. Fighting talk, but who knew what she would have accepted? She had a tendency to forget she had any pride when it came to Karim, she thought miserably. He had entered her blood like a virus and she was consumed by the fever.

Well, she’d never know because she had gone to his room only to find his bed empty and untouched. She had returned to her own bed and lain there wondering where and, more importantly, with whom he had slept that night. It didn’t seem likely that a virile and highly sexed man like Karim spent any night alone.

She had predictably cried herself to sleep, hence the puffy-eyed look today.

‘A dumb wife—that really would make me the envy of every man present.’ Karim knew he would already have the envy of every man present because they imagined that he was sharing a bed with his wife.

Not doing so was driving him slowly out of his mind.

Looking at him, tall and commanding, in his formal traditional clothes looking like the quintessence of virile masculinity, Eva knew she would be the envy of every woman present and also the focus of mass speculation.

There would be a lot more speculation if they knew that her husband didn’t share her bed.

Eva cringed inwardly at the idea of anyone discovering her secret.

‘Funny man,’ she drawled. ‘Do you have to work at being a total sexist?’

The question drew no reply.

As she walked with him towards the ballroom where the reception was being held she felt her resentment rise. No wonder she had no confidence—not only did her husband not want to sleep with her, but he kept mistresses, possibly an entire harem! When she had walked into his study in her finery he had looked her up and down, and made no comment.

She had interpreted his silence as disappointment, which was a blow because frankly this was as good as it got!

Eva told herself that it wasn’t that she needed his approval, just a little support when she was facing the daunting prospect of being judged by, if not the entire world, his world.

‘Ready?’

Glancing in the full-length mirror behind Karim, she saw a total stranger standing there.

A stranger with upswept hair. She touched the stunning emeralds that Karim had casually presented to her as if they were no big deal to wear around her neck.

Panic growing in the pit of her belly, she started to shake her head … ‘No, I’m not ready. I can’t do this … I …’

Karim knew she was speaking, he could see her lips, but he could not hear for the roaring of the pressure inside his head.

A pressure that had been building for the past weeks, but when she had appeared wearing that dress and he had wanted to do nothing but peel it off it had cranked up several painful notches.

He had been shaking so hard that he was amazed she didn’t appeared to notice; he had not trusted himself to speak. His control had teetered on a knife’s edge.

Now as he looked down into her beautiful face he knew that tonight he was going to spend the night in her bed; last night he had held back from going to her only because she had looked at him with such obvious resentment when he had offered no explanation for his absence.

He had wanted to, but a lifetime’s habit was hard to break and he didn’t know how to share his grief, but he did know that if he had gone to her last night the story of his week with his father would have come out.

Eva would have seen his pain … A man should be able to deal with what life threw at him. Karim had always viewed sharing private feelings and emotions as a weakness—would Eva see it as a weakness?

For the first time in his life he found himself caring about what a woman thought of him.

He pushed away the thought and slid his hands to her shoulders. He could see her lips stop moving. He carried on staring at the soft lush outline as in his mind he tugged down the bodice off her shoulders to reveal her perfect breasts.

He imagined the texture of her skin, the taste of it. He imagined moving inside her, hearing her cry his name.

Then imagination was not enough to silence the roaring in his head. He had not known a moment’s peace since they met and knew he wouldn’t until he possessed her. She was like a fever in his blood.

His chest lifted and with a groan he bent his head to hers.

He put all the weeks of longing and frustration into the kiss, bending her supple spine back over his arm with the pressure of it, causing the pins in her hair to loosen. He tangled his fingers in the silky curtain that spilled down her back and pulled her face to his as he kissed her with an almost frenzied desperation.

He felt the vibration of her throaty moan as he slid his hands over the curves of her slim body. She leaned bonelessly into him as he nipped and licked at her lush parted lips, tasting, sliding inside her mouth and meeting her tongue with his own.

Finally coming up for air, he lifted his head.

They stared at one another in stunned silence, a silence that was finally broken by Eva’s inarticulate whisper of, ‘My God! You …’

Eva sucked in a sighed breath and pressed a hand to her trembling lips. At night when she had lain awake wanting him she had told herself the kiss had not been that fantastic, it had just been the overheated emotions of the day that had built it up into something exceptional in her mind.

‘Eva—’

‘You really are very very good at that.’

His eyes darkened.

It was Tariq at his shoulder, tactfully clearing his throat, that made Karim recall his surroundings.

‘Your absence has been noted.’

‘Yes, we will be there directly.’ He looked down at Eva. ‘You are ready now?’

She nodded. She was ready to do anything he wanted.

Her pliant state of shock lasted long enough for Karim to steer her in front of him into the glittering hall and the hundreds of waiting finery-clad people.

He’d definitely distracted her from her panic attack … that couldn’t be why he had kissed her, could it?

No, she told herself, he wouldn’t be that calculating, but once the seeds of doubt were planted they were hard to ignore.

The alternative explanation was impulsive lust or his feelings getting the better of him, but, as she knew only too well, he’d had no trouble controlling his lust up until now.

Did it matter? He’d kissed her and with any luck he’d do it again.

Karim, who was standing a little distance away, performing the hand-shaking, cheek-kissing, head-bowing ritual that Eva was, watched from the corner of his eyes until he was satisfied she was coping.

‘She’ll need your support tonight.’

Karim turned his head to acknowledge King Hassan. ‘She has my support, but you underestimate her. Eva can do more than she thinks. All she lacks is confidence.’

A little later, having watched his cousin monopolise her for ten minutes, Karim chose a lull to excuse himself and move to her side.

‘Are you all right?’

She shivered as his breath brushed her cheek. ‘I’m not sure yet,’ she admitted, his kiss still dominating her thoughts.

‘Me too.’ Before she could question the oddly cryptic remark her grandfather appeared at her side and Eva was obliged to give him her attention.

Her grandfather was not the only head of state present. There were a number of influential foreign guests, but most of his countrymen, like Karim, were dressed traditionally, and while many of the women’s clothes had a distinct Eastern influence most had a Western twist. About half of them wore their heads uncovered, though this did not make Eva feel any less conspicuous as she was the only redhead present.

This was not her sort of thing, though the mingling and smiling graciously was proving a lot easier than she had imagined.

Eva’s smile slipped when she was formally introduced to the possible reason for Karim’s absence from his bed.

The moment Eva saw Layla Al Ahmed she heard alarm bells, which she dismissed as paranoia, but when she saw the beautiful brunette look at Karim through her heavily made-up almond-shaped eyes things fell horribly into place.

Feeling sick to her stomach, she injected a few more volts into her forced smile as the thickset man with Layla stepped forward to present himself while the curvaceous brunette chatted animatedly to Karim.

‘Layla has a successful career in interior design,’ explained her proud father, who was, it transpired, one of Karim’s economic advisors, as well as the head of one of the country’s oldest and most powerful families.

Her credentials, as well as her curves, were impeccable.

‘My daughter is very talented. She could have done anything.’

And if her great career failed she could make a fortune in advertising uplift bras—not that the gorgeous brunette needed one, Eva thought, hitching her bodice a little higher on her more modest cleavage and gathering the light embroidered silk stole she wore over it a little tighter.

‘She and Karim were virtually brought up together,’ he confided as they watched Karim kiss first one of her bejewelled hands and then her cheeks.

‘And some people,’ he continued, ‘thought that after Karim overcame his bereavement they might …’ He shrugged and smiled. ‘But Karim is a rule unto himself, as I am sure you know.’

He bowed and moved away, leaving Eva to wonder if he had intended to plant the idea that the pair had been virtually engaged in her head and was it true?

Had Layla been the reason that three days had turned into seven? Had he been unable to tear himself away from her side? Would Karim have married the lovely and very suitable Layla if things had not happened as they did?

Stomach churning, she pushed the question away and responded to the French Ambassador’s wife who had introduced herself as Julia and was admiring the emeralds and comparing them to Eva’s eyes.

When Karim appeared at her shoulder she greeted him like an old friend and repeated the compliment, adding, ‘Your wife’s French is quite, quite excellent and isn’t she coping well? I remember the first Embassy Ball I hosted—my smile had to be surgically removed.’

Eva felt warmed by the compliment, but the glow of pleasure faded abruptly when, after acknowledging that her French was adequate, Karim added, ‘Let’s hope she doesn’t take too long to master Arabic, Julia.’

Eva’s chin went up. ‘I hope so too. Then people will have to be out of earshot when they talk about me.’ She could not shake the conviction that the lovely Layla’s laughter had been aimed at her or the image of her in bed with Karim.

Karim arched a brow and said, ‘Paranoia, Eva?’ And left her standing there feeling like a total idiot.

Julia took her arm and patted her hand. ‘Layla is what I’d call a man’s woman …’

Eva shot her a startled glance. Were her thoughts that transparent?

‘Men look,’ Julia continued with a Gallic shrug. ‘It is in their nature.’ Her grin deepened and she added with mock sympathy, ‘Poor lambs. You know, when I married Alain I went through agonies thinking he lusted after every woman he smiled at. Alain could have anyone he chose, you see, then one day it finally struck me—he chose me.’

Eva bit back the impulse to assure the Frenchwoman that as far as she was concerned Karim could smile at any woman he pleased, but she could hardly reveal to her sympathetic and obviously romantic friend that she was no more in love with her husband than he was with her.

‘It’s a steep learning curve,’ she admitted. The Frenchwoman had no idea how steep!

She wondered what her new friend’s reaction would be if she explained that Karim had only married her because honour had demanded it and it wasn’t politically expedient for him to alienate his influential neighbour.

Of course, as far as she was concerned Karim could romance whom he liked, but he might at least have the decency and good manners not to rub her nose in it!

Eva’s resentment and sense of isolation increased when Karim, presumably having adopted a sink-or-swim policy, left her to her own devices for the next half-hour.

It was not relief she felt when she caught sight of her tall, supremely elegant husband returning. Her heart rate began to thud with a confusing mixture of excitement, resentment and apprehension.

He reached her side and bent forward, bringing his face close to hers; for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again.

He didn’t.

‘Smile, and stop looking at me as if I’m the wolf and you’re Little Red Riding Hood.’ His hooded glance slid to the hint of creamy cleavage pressing against the pale satin and he wondered if her skin tasted as good as it looked.

It would not be so very difficult to eat her up. ‘You’re meant to be enjoying yourself.’

Shaking a little from the anticlimax, she fixed him with a narrow-eyed glare. ‘Well, I’m not—not enjoying myself.’

‘You seemed to be enjoying yourself when you were talking to my cousin.’

‘Cousin? Could you be a bit more specific? You do have hundreds.’

‘Hakim.’

‘Oh, the doctor—yes, he’s really nice.’

‘That’s what all the girls think before he breaks their hearts.’

She watched him walk away with a puzzled frown. Anyone who didn’t know the circumstances might have confused his attitude with jealousy. Next time she saw him the orchestra had struck up a slow number that drew several couples to the floor.

Eva, uncertain of the protocol, turned to him for clarification and found he was watching her with an expression that she struggled to decipher. ‘Are we meant to dance?’

Karim, already in a state of arousal, was skeptical of his ability even in his loose robes to hold her in his arms and not reveal the fact to everyone present.

‘I don’t dance,’ he said, but he did other things well and tonight he planned to show her.

That had been ten minutes earlier and she could still see his face when he said it, still hear his dismissive tone.

She was hearing it as she listened to what Julia’s extremely handsome and charming husband was saying. Eva’s own smile had become fixed and strained—she hoped in an intelligent way, but the fact was she was finding it virtually impossible to concentrate on what her companion was saying.

Rage and a strong sense of misuse made her chest tight. She struggled against a suffocating sensation to get her breath … was he trying to humiliate her?

Don’t let anyone see you care. Don’t let him see you care. Her lips compressed as her glance was once again drawn to the dance floor. She looked quickly away, a smile frozen on her face, thinking, Don’t let anyone see you care.

Don’t let him see you care!

Why did she care?

Presumably Karim’s non-dancing stance only applied to dancing with her, because for someone who didn’t dance he was managing rather well as he circled the floor with the highborn beauty in his arms.

They moved as one, bodies close, dark heads closer, the diamonds around Layla’s wrists and lovely neck catching the lights of the chandeliers overhead.

Eva had struggled hard against the irrational dislike she had felt earlier when the brunette had been introduced, but she now stopped trying—call it a personality clash.

Call it jealousy, said the voice in her head.

Logically she had no reason to dislike a woman she had not exchanged more than a dozen words with, if you discounted the way she touched Karim at every opportunity and spoke to him in that husky voice pitched too low for anyone else to hear, but obviously what she said was witty because Karim laughed more than once, looking younger and more relaxed as he did so than Eva had ever seen him.

The music stopped and Eva expelled a relieved sigh that drew an amused look from the man beside her. She said something to cover the moment, aware in the periphery of her vision of Karim bowing his head to his dance partner, but before he could leave Layla took his hand, tilting her head and pouting as she moved in close and whispered something in his ear.

Eva gave up all pretence of making conversation and watched, her eyes as hard as the emeralds around her neck as Karim shook his head, trying—not very hard, it seemed to Eva—to leave before he allowed his partner to drag him back to the centre of the dance floor. She could hear from where she was standing the tinkling sound of the brunette’s laughter as she laid her fingers against Karim’s neck.

Eva watched them dance, but she wasn’t the only one who did so. She knew that several glances were cast in her direction and the voltage of her smile and the level of her animation rose in direct proportion to the interest.

Finally when she laughed too loudly at something, Alain leaned forward with an expression of genuine concern and asked softly, ‘Are you all right?’

It was at that moment it hit her.

She shook her head slowly, a stunned look on her face as her glance slid towards the dance floor where Karim was moving, his grace and co-ordination matched by those of his partner.

‘No, I’m not all right.’ I’m in love with my husband.

Now how stupid was that?

She shook her head. It wasn’t possible!

She obviously had spoken the latter aloud because though Alain was looking at her with concern it was not the sort of alarm someone would reserve for a bride who was having a breakdown at the possibility she was in love with her husband.

‘Shall I get someone … Karim …?’

The suggestion made her eyes widen with horror. ‘No, not Karim!’

Her vehemence appeared to take the Frenchman aback, but he smiled and said tentatively, ‘A glass of water?’

‘That would be nice,’ she said, thinking, Pull yourself together, Eva, at least until you get out of here. ‘There’s no need to worry Karim,’ she added.

Alain nodded, but did not look entirely convinced by her addition and, catching sight of herself in the reflective surface of a plate-glass window, Eva was not surprised. The only colour in her face was the green of her eyes, which looked enormous in her pale face.

She pressed her fingers to her temples where the thudding intensified as the pressure in her head increased.