Beauty and the Sheikh

chapter 15



Holly waited for the sound of the large door once again closing, before she let out a small sob. She gripped the pillowcase beneath her head as another wave of pain swept through her heart.

She was an absolute fool. Had she actually hoped Rafiq might be disappointed she wasn’t pregnant?

If that didn’t make her foolish, then the fact she’d wanted to discover she carried his child certainly did.

Of course Rafiq didn’t want her pregnant—that would’ve been a huge burden on him and their agreement. Three months. That was all.

You knew he would send you away at the end of the set time, she reminded herself. If not earlier.

Had she somehow hoped a pregnancy would make everything change? Hoped Rafiq would realize how much she meant to him and beg her to stay?

How naïve of her. If he asked her to stay, it would’ve been because of the child, not because he loved her. Rafiq could never feel the way about her the way she did for him.

And she did love him. With every stupid inch of her being.

It was a truth she’d stopped denying after they’d returned from Monaco. A terrifying realization to face, but she’d had to acknowledge it, because no matter what the future held for her, denying her feelings for Rafiq wouldn’t change it.

If anything, her love and admiration for him had grown since their return to Raljahar. She’d watched Rafiq’s transition from being churlish and withdrawn to becoming a hesitant extrovert and increasingly friendly with his people.

And it had been wondrous to watch their change as well. To see the people who had once been wary of him open up like flowers in the sun.

Rafiq was such a good man, with a good heart, and the world took notice as he became the affable leader his country seemed to crave.

The tabloids had gone mad covering stories of him now that he no longer shied away from cameras. At any public event, he and Holly had been the darlings of the media. And fortunately, the darker headlines comparing them to an old fairy tale had faded into more sappy ones.

The media adored them as a couple and gave credit to Holly for Rafiq’s transition. There were even headlines that speculated a possible engagement, or if the Sheikh would disregard tradition of marrying an Arabic woman of high status in exchange for his American mistress.

Holly opened her eyes and stared blankly around the opulent bedroom. Every breath she took seemed an effort—seemed to cut devastatingly into her soul.

What the media didn’t know was it had all started as a ruse. A bargain she’d made for her brother’s freedom, and that in less than three months Rafiq would send her home to the States.

Tears gathered in her eyes before rolling slowly down her cheek to dampen the silk pillowcase. Holly couldn’t bother to wipe them away; she needed this moment to mourn. To acknowledge she’d been unrealistic and foolish to hope things could ever be different between them.

She was what everyone presumed her to be. Rafiq’s mistress. It had begun as an illusion, and now it was her reality.

But she wouldn’t regret it. She had three months with Rafiq—no, less than that now—but she would not waste them. She would spend her days enjoying the country of Raljahar and her nights being the mistress to the Sheikh.

And when she returned home, she could only hope her heart would ultimately recover.



Rafiq glanced through the unread emails in his inbox as he waited for Holly to finish her bath. He sighed and shut his laptop, a rueful smile on his face. Even a scheduled day off couldn’t completely keep him from work.

But then, he’d taken today off and had planned something spontaneous and fun for them. Though of course he hadn’t told Holly what to expect, only that it would be a surprise.

A smile flitted across his face as he imagined her reaction. It would be good for Holly to get out of the palace as well. He often wondered about her days and if she grew bored being within the palace alone these past weeks.

Rafiq knew she’d become good friends with her female assistant, and of course he was kept apprised of her daily habit of visiting the local market. What fascinated him the most was that she had no interest in his luxury mall the tourists seemed to flock to, but instead seemed to prefer immersing herself in the heart of his country, mingling with his people and absorbing the customs.

It pleased him. Maybe more than it should have, because he knew he ultimately had to let her go.

The idea of her leaving had the muscles in his chest tightening as apprehension swept through him. No, he couldn’t think about that now. For now, she was still here and he enjoyed every moment with her, most especially the nights.

He took her every evening, sometimes multiple times, but always now he was careful to use protection to avoid a possible pregnancy. He made love to her so thoroughly it almost seemed he was trying to imprint his soul with hers.

The intensity of their bond, both in and out of bed, unnerved him, but he told himself daily it was only fleeting and soon she’d be gone and he would hold the memory of her in his heart.

It was the safest place for her to be, for certain.

He glanced up from his desk as he heard the bathroom door open. After a leisurely breakfast in bed this morning, Holly had retreated to the washroom to bathe.

A hum of pleasure vibrated in his throat as he saw her exit the bathroom. Once again he had to assure himself it was indeed her and not a strange, luscious woman from his country.

With her dark hair, long pink skirt and loose woven top, Holly fit right in with the women of Raljahar. If it weren’t for her pale skin and blue eyes, Holly could easily be mistaken for a native.

She’d surprised him the first time she’d worn the traditional dress of his country. When he’d questioned her on when she’d bought it, she’d explained that it had been during that first visit to the market.

Though she had an entire wardrobe of western attire, she seemed to prefer the vibrant skirts and shirts.

“Did you enjoy your bath, habiba?”

“I did. Those oils I picked up last week at the market made it pure luxury.”

“You deserve to be indulged.” He thought about where they were going after leaving the palace and narrowed his gaze on her outfit again.

She must have sensed his contemplation, because her smile faded. “Should I not wear this? Is the skirt too—”

“You look beautiful, Holly. Although today, I don’t think a skirt will be quite appropriate for what I have planned. Could you perhaps wear your linen trousers?”

“Sure, I can change.” She swished the folds of the skirt and smiled. “I guess I’ve gotten quite used to these pretty things.”

Because she was so near to him and he couldn’t resist, he reached out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I noticed you seem to like the style of dress, and it does flatter you. But then, I believe you could make a burlap sack with a blue ribbon around it look spectacular.”

Her eyes flickered with amusement and she gave a breathy laugh. “Maybe we should try it? I think it could be an elegant dress choice for dinner Friday night with all the important people from the neighboring Sheikhdoms?”

He let out a soft laugh at the image. “Now, wouldn’t that be a sight?”

She joined in his laughter before surprising him by leaning forward and pressing a quick, impulsive kiss against his mouth.

When she moved to pull away, Rafiq held her still and deepened the kiss, needing more than a quick taste. He lifted his head a moment later with reluctance. “Perhaps we should cancel all plans today,” he murmured huskily. “Stay in instead.”

Holly made a murmur of pleasure and curled her fingers into his robe. “Mmm. Although it sounds tempting, I’m going to say not on your life. I’ve been looking forward to this surprise day out.”

Yes, she’d been in an extra good mood all morning, and Rafiq could see the light of anticipation in her eyes even now.

“Won’t you tell me what we’re doing?” She tugged lightly on his robe with the excitement of a child. “I can’t stand the suspense any longer.”

“We’re riding in the desert. Thus the necessity for your trousers.”

The glimmer in her eyes increased and a wide smile crossed her face. “What are we riding? Camels?”

She’d been expressing interest for weeks now in riding a camel, so he enjoyed being able to give her the good news.

“Yes, actually, I believe we will today.”

Holly let out a squeal of excitement. “Really? Oh my gosh, I’m so excited! And I’ve hardly been outside the city, and the desert seems so exciting and—”

“Dangerous? The terrain hostile? It is. Which is why I am escorting you, and we will also have several of my guards with us.”

Her answering smile lit her face. “I don’t care if we’re escorted by your entire army.” She pressed another kiss to his lips. “I look forward to it. We should leave as soon as possible.”

“And we will. I will have the camels saddled and prepared. Now you should go get ready and then meet me in the foyer, habiba.”



Holly released one hand from the reigns of her camel to push a strand of hair off her forehead. The sun beat down mercilessly and once again, she silently appreciated Rafiq’s advice on wearing the linen pants. They’d helped keep her cool for the past hour and were far more practical while riding.

For goodness sake, she was on a camel! And she absolutely adored it and the time she was spending with Rafiq.

Exhilaration flowed through her veins and she tried to remember the last time she was so happy.

“How are you?”

Holly glanced over at Rafiq’s question and her response dried up as her gaze fell on him. He rode just feet away from her, sitting on a camel even bigger than hers.

For a moment it was as if she were hurled back to another time. Rafiq looked every bit the ruler of Raljahar, sitting tall and proud with his white kandura twisting in the slight breeze.

The backdrop around him was as beautiful as it was deadly, the orange-colored sand and harsh mountains shimmering in the sun.

In the past months, she’d come to love this picturesque, rugged land and its warmhearted people. Almost as much as she loved the Sheikh who ruled it.

“Holly?” Rafiq’s brows drew together with concern. “Perhaps you should drink more of your water. You look flushed.”

“I’m fine. I’m just not quite used to the heat.” But her words held a hint of sadness she knew she hadn’t quite managed to hide this time.

Because she didn’t want to worry him, she lifted the bottle of water and drank another sip. The water, still chilled, eased down her throat. Perhaps she’d needed the liquid, but she wasn’t foolish to believe her problems were as simple as being dehydrated.

Her problem lay in the fact she loved a man who would never love her back. All the water in the world wouldn’t cure that. Her lips quirked slightly.

“You know, you ride remarkably well,” he commented, though she knew he was still worried about her. “Are you sure you’ve never ridden a camel before, habiba?”

“Not a single one.”

“A horse, then?”

“Not unless you count when I was a child being led around a circle on a pony, or sitting still on a horse for a photo shoot.”

“Hmm. No, I can’t say I would count those.”

She joined in his soft laugh and again her pulse quickened. They’d fallen into such an easy, compatible relationship since their return from Monaco. Even though all the animosity had vanished after they’d made love that first time, the flight back to Raljahar had brought them closer together.

Sometimes, when Rafiq held her in his arms at night, she could almost swear he felt the same way about her as she did him. He made love to her as if he never wanted her to leave, and yet he hadn’t asked her to stay. He wouldn’t, either, she knew, but she tried not to focus on that.

Rafiq had been true to his word and never let her feel as if she were being held prisoner in Raljahar. In fact, over the last couple of months he’d flown her twice to see her brother during his rehabilitation in the London clinic. After showing fantastic improvement, Andrew was released a week ago and flew home to the States.

Holly glanced over her shoulder at the two guards who rode a good distance back now. Earlier she’d overheard what had sounded like Rafiq asking for privacy. Which was nice, being able to go out without them hovering so close, but then the desert was so wide open it was easy to see any danger that might be approaching.

Not that Rafiq seemed all that worried.

She stole another look at him and noted the sudden frown on his face as he stared over the horizon. She followed his gaze and a shiver of unease skated down her spine.

There was a haze of red in the distance.

“What is it, Rafiq?” But she already had an idea.

“A sandstorm is building.” He turned his camel and shouted something to the guards behind them.

Holly couldn’t begin to interpret their harried words. Her gaze had darted back to the horizon and the haziness took on a more sinister meaning. Of course she’d heard about these, and several had passed through the desert while they were in the palace. But out here, being so exposed, it was far more threatening.

“We must try to make it back to the palace, Holly. Quickly.”

The nice, moseying pace had been perfect for her. Cold sweat broke out on her neck at the idea of a camel running breakneck speed while a sandstorm bore down on them. “Your guards—”

“Have already retreated by my order. We must hurry.” Rafiq glanced back at the horizon and cursed.

Panic hit full-fledged and Holly scrambled to turn the camel around, but the camel resisted.

“We’ll never make it,” Rafiq muttered savagely and the next thing she knew, his arm snagged around her waist and she was plucked from her saddle as if she weighed nothing.

Her world tilted as he maneuvered her in front on him on his camel.

“Hold on,” he yelled and then urged the camel into a run.

Holly clutched the horn and bit back a panicked cry. Oh God, what was he doing? Rafiq didn’t turn around toward the palace as his guards had, but instead rode them straight toward the storm.

“Rafiq!”

“Trust me, habiba.” His words brushed against her ear, a reassuring caress she desperately clung to.

She did trust him, but it didn’t ease her fear as sand began to swirl up around them, the tiny particles stinging her face.

“Close your eyes, Holly. We’ll be there shortly!”

There? Where was there? She squeezed her eyes closed. The wild pounding of her heart was nearly in perfect rhythm with the camel’s sprint.

Rafiq’s strong arms kept her still in the saddle, a physical restraint she welcomed as the world around them slipped into chaos. Vaguely she became aware they’d slowed and she risked a quick glance to discover where they were. A large black tent loomed in front of them and she blinked to clear her vision, certain she was seeing things.

It soon became a blur of black among the swirling sand. They came to an abrupt stop and the camel kneeled to let them off once more. She felt rather than saw Rafiq dismount. He reached for her, pulling her from the saddle and rushing her toward the tent.

Holly buried her face against Rafiq’s side as the wind howled around them, the sand continuing its relentless attack.

And then the world around them dimmed and the roaring of the storm diminished some.

Holly opened her eyes, relief weakening her limbs. “Where are we?”

They were obviously in some kind of large tent, but definitely not the kind you took camping in the woods. It seemed heavier, sturdier, and quite larger than any tent she’d seen. Also, it was much cooler than the stifling heat outside.

“We keep several tents maintained throughout my desert,” Rafiq explained brusquely as he moved about, turning on what looked like battery-operated lamps and flooding the interior with dim lighting. “They can be shelters for events such as this, or a place to rest during travel.”

The sand beneath them was nearly covered by a large red-patterned area rug, and throughout the tent there were pillows and blankets.

Holly flinched as the tent shook with the force of the storm. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted and it took all her willpower not to cry out with fear.

Rafiq held no fear though, and seemed almost irritated as he circled the interior of the tent fiddling with things. Finally he returned to her, his gaze unreadable in the dim lighting. “We will be safe waiting out the storm in here.”

Would they? It was hard to believe with the violence of the wind outside. She didn’t want to think of the massive wall of sand she’d seen on the horizon—knowing it was rushing toward them and they weren’t even in the worst of it yet.

But at least they were inside, and if Rafiq said they would be safe, she trusted him.

“What about your camels?”

“They will be fine. The animals are well-adapted to surviving sandstorms.” His gaze softened as it fell on her and he closed the small distance separating them, pulling her into his arms. “Trust me, habiba, I’ve weathered many storms before. It is all part of living in the desert.”

“You must think I’m a terrible coward.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his robe and listening to the calming beat of his heart. “Afraid to fly. Afraid of a sandstorm.”

“You are not a coward. I’ve seen grown men react like children in the face of such storms. They can be quite terrifying and this is your first storm outside the palace.”

The wind grew louder and she swallowed hard. “Does it get much worse?”

“Yes, I won’t lie to you. Come.” He urged her deeper into the tent.

Holly’s heart skipped as he led her to a mass of blankets and pillows. She sank down and a moment later her joined her, his expression growing somber.

“I’m sorry, Holly. I would’ve never brought you riding had I known we would encounter a storm.”

Holly couldn’t resist reaching up to touch the strong lines of his jaw. “But you didn’t know, so you can’t possibly blame yourself.”

He didn’t reply, but his expression seemed to grow more troubled. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Never.”