Claimed by the Sheikh. Rachael Thomas

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in their marriage.

      As dawn had crept across the sky he’d abandoned the idea of sleeping in the chair and stood beside the bed, watching the woman he’d married, one he’d wanted but couldn’t have. He’d savoured the soft sighs she’d made in her sleep, the sweetness of her face, because they would never be his. He’d done his duty. He’d married her, but he couldn’t stay with a woman who deceived him, hid her past. Not when she could provoke him so easily. For her sake, she must leave.

      ‘The validity of our marriage was never questioned, even after you left,’ he said, dragging his mind back. He stepped away from her before he gave into the urge to kiss her. He’d never tasted her lips, never felt them burn with passion beneath his and right now it was all he could think about. ‘What you did that night, your discarded clothes, it worked. Nobody has ever challenged the marriage.’

      ‘I wish it hadn’t.’ She tossed the words at him as she moved out of the kitchen, her arm brushing against his in the small space. In the dim light of the hallway he watched her take off her coat and hang it up, drawn to the way the denim of her jeans clung to her long legs. ‘I will admit what I did. Explain exactly what happened then you can annul the marriage.’

      He shook his head and followed her into the hallway. ‘It’s too late for that, Amber.’ He couldn’t allow her to bring their marriage into question. Ever.

      She turned to look at him, her face partly shadowed by the dim light in the hallway but her words defiantly clear. ‘I can’t go back to Barazbin. I don’t want to. I’m needed here.’

      Everything had changed so much and he was to blame. He was the only heir to the throne and his father was sick. For the sake of his country he didn’t have time to end one marriage and make another. He needed to be seen with his wife—the woman his people had witnessed him marry, the one they’d welcomed warmly. To annul the marriage now would make his people doubt him. If he couldn’t hold together a marriage, how could he rule a country?

      ‘People may not believe your claim if your profession is discovered. Do you really want that scandal exposed? Your father’s people, as well as mine, would turn their backs on you.’ He let the words sink in, watched as her lovely eyes widened in shock. ‘The only thing that can save your reputation now is me.’

      ‘You’re despicable,’ she whispered, every syllable full of contempt. With barely contained fury in every step, she walked a few paces to another door, opened it and peered into the near darkness.

      As she slipped into the darkened room he remembered the child and irrational anger consumed him once more. Why was she living here, sharing a cramped flat with a single mother who worked as a stripper? Was she trying to blacken her reputation beyond redemption?

      Kazim stood and composed himself, steeling himself against the irrational anger that raged inside. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, willing control to return.

      Moments later, composure seeped through him and, unable to help himself, he pushed the door open a little wider to reveal Amber tucking a young boy into a tiny bed. The child murmured in his sleep and she ruffled his blond hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. From the little he knew of children, he guessed the boy to be around two.

      When Amber looked up her eyes met Kazim’s and something akin to embarrassment briefly washed over him at having witnessed the tender moment. He’d intruded. The shock on her face told him that, but he wasn’t going to let her off so lightly. He stood and looked back at her, his stomach turning against the thought of what could have been if he’d succumbed to his desire, if they’d had a child as a result of their wedding night. He didn’t want to be a father, to expose a child to the same upset he’d known, but his position in life meant fatherhood was an obligation. He had to have a child—an heir to Barazbin.

      In the dim light of the room he couldn’t see her expression clearly. ‘If you don’t mind...’ Amber whispered so softly he almost missed the words.

      In silent agreement he stepped back a pace. The child’s bedroom was not the place for such discussions so he left, pulling the door closed again, and walked back to the depressing and claustrophobic kitchen, all sorts of questions racing through his mind.

      Moments later, she stood in the doorway, hands on hips, her body poised as if ready for battle. ‘Give me one good reason why I should care what your people say of me, why I should care if my reputation is ruined, as you so nicely put it?’ Fighting spirit resounded in her voice but he refused to rise to the bait.

      ‘Your family.’

      * * *

      Pain lanced through Amber as she looked at Kazim’s questioning face. ‘I haven’t seen my family since the day after we got married.’

       The day you rejected me as if I were an unwanted parcel.

      When her father had sent her away she’d begged her mother to help her, but her mother, committed to the ways of the desert, had turned her back on her, just as she had the Western world from which she’d come. To Amber’s mother, arranged marriages were now normal and acceptable. It was as if she was trying to erase her English ancestry and, along with it, the scrapes her daughter, Amber, had got into at boarding school.

      Lost in thought, Kazim’s next words hurtled her back to reality, dragging her back from the hurt of her parents’ rejection and disappointment.

      ‘So you turned your back on your family as well as your heritage, to come to Paris and work in a club.’ He folded his arms across his chest, his dark eyes glaring accusingly at her, and she thought he was going to taunt her again, almost force her to admit to being a stripper instead of a waitress.

      Did he really think she’d willingly left everyone behind?

      She deflected the hurt, just as she had done on their wedding day, allowing all that pain to turn to anger. If he wanted to think badly of her then it could only help her cause to be free. He might be the man she’d loved from first sight, the man she’d dreamed of raising a family with, but he was also the man who would never love her. It was time she accepted that and moved on.

      ‘Where I work and what I do there is irrelevant,’ she snapped at him, wishing she’d never let him into the flat. But this needed finishing; she needed to be free of him. ‘What is important is that here, with the two people who mean more to me than anyone else, I am needed and wanted.’

      The only other person who’d ever made her feel needed and wanted was her grandmother, and Amber had missed her terribly since she’d passed away. So, since Annie and little Claude had stumbled into her life, Amber was happy for the first time in many years. They more than made up for the fact that the only job she could get without proof of identity was in the club.

      ‘You are needed in Barazbin.’ Like an arrow, his reply shot across the room, the words wounding deeply.

      ‘Needed, maybe,’ she said in a soft teasing voice, her head to one side as she shrugged her shoulders, trying hard to appear indifferent. ‘But not wanted, Kazim. Not by you.’

      ‘My father is ill,’ he said, his face paling and his eyes becoming haunted. For a moment she felt his pain, wanted to reach out to him, but she couldn’t. To show such weakness would be fatal. ‘It is my duty to secure the future of Barazbin.’

      ‘That still doesn’t have to include me, not when we haven’t seen each other since our wedding day. You even admitted my reputation would be brought

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