Captured by the Sheikh by Kate Hewitt

Author:Kate Hewitt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: HarlequinUKLtd
Published: 2014-07-31T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

KHALIL KNEW HE was a little drunk. He hadn’t had any alcohol to drink; none had been served. Yet he still felt dazed, almost drugged with possibility. With something deeper and stronger than mere lust, even if part of him wanted to give it that name, make it that simple.

He held the tent flap open for Elena and watched as she moved past him, her Bedouin clothing emphasising the sinuous swing of her hips, her graceful gait. Once in the tent she turned to him and he saw the expectation in her eyes, felt it in himself.

Tonight, to all intents and purposes, they were married. Husband and wife.

‘Did you have a good time this evening?’ he asked and she nodded.

‘Yes... I don’t know when I’ve had a better time, actually.’ She let out a little laugh, sounding self-conscious, uncertain. ‘I haven’t gone to many parties before.’

‘Not gone to parties? Not even royal or state functions?’

She shook her head, her grey eyes heartbreakingly wide above her veil. ‘I’ve gone to those, but they weren’t...they weren’t fun. I could never just be myself. I was always Queen Elena and sometimes it felt like an act.’

‘A danger of wearing the crown so young, I suppose. But you should be proud of yourself, Elena, and all you have accomplished.’

He took a step towards her, the need to touch her growing with every moment they spent together. His palms itched and he had to keep himself from reaching for her. ‘And were you yourself tonight, Elena? Looking as you do, like a Bedouin girl?’

‘Strangely, yes.’ She let out another laugh, this one breathy. ‘I felt more free tonight than I have in a long time.’

‘Free—and yet captive.’ He didn’t know why he felt the need to remind her of the truth of their situation just then, only that he did. Perhaps he was trying to remind himself to hold onto reality when all he really wanted was to slip the veil from her face and the dress from her body.

‘I don’t feel like a captive any more, Khalil. I want to be here with you. You might have brought me here, but I’m choosing this now.’

He saw a bold purpose in her eyes now. The innocent, it seemed, had become a seductress. A siren. She walked towards him, lowering the veil of coins away from her face, and placed her hands on his chest. He gazed down at her long, slender fingers, felt them tremble against him. ‘Tonight I want to forget everything, Khalil. Everything but you.’

Desire pulsed through him, blurred his brain along with his vision. ‘Elena—’

‘Please.’

He covered her hands with his own; he’d meant to remove them but as soon as he touched her he knew he wouldn’t. He knew he needed at least this much, because there wouldn’t be much more.

There couldn’t be.

‘Elena,’ he said again, and she shook her head, her hair escaping from underneath her veil, tumbling about her shoulders as dark as a desert night.

‘Don’t, Khalil,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t say no to me now.

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