Teresa Southwick - The Sheikh Who Claimed Her - Master of the Desert / The Sheikh's Reluctant Bride / Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife

‘When will there be a better time?’ he said, cutting her off at the door.

‘Ra’id, please …’ Tears were threatening, and she hated herself for the weakness, knowing this was a man who would not care to see her cry.

‘Ra’id, please,’ he mimicked cruelly. ‘What is it this time, Tuesday? Are you here for a pay-off—or would you like a little more action first?’

‘Ra’id, don’t,’ she begged, turning her face from his stinging scorn. ‘I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. Please, let me go.’

‘Not until we’ve discussed this land that seems to mean so much to you.’ His voice was harsh and cruel, and his touch was unrelenting as he steered her back to the table. ‘Sit down,’ he said, indicating the seat next to his. ‘You’ve seen this, of course?’

As she shakily sank onto the chair, he pushed a sheaf of documents in front of her. ‘No. What are they?’

‘I have copies,’ he said, when she didn’t even know what he was talking about.

She glanced at the title on the topmost sheet. ‘I don’t understand—this is a deed of land granted by your father to my mother.’

‘Well done,’ he said derisively. ‘One of your best performances to date. You almost have me fooled.’

Antonia shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I’m trying to make sense of this. I’m sorry if I’m not as quick as you …’

‘Take your time.’ His voice was full of disdain.

‘You knew my mother?’ Antonia glanced up in confusion, and then her gaze returned to her mother’s name as if just reading it could somehow protect her.

‘It would be hard for me not to know my father’s concubine.’

‘What?’ The room began to spin. She had heard Ra’id, and yet her mind refused to accept what he’d said to her. Pushing her chair back, she stumbled awkwardly away from the table. ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ she admitted in a voice turned dry and faint.

‘You don’t?’ Ra’id’s hard face mirrored his disbelief. ‘Let me stop your performance before you get started. And understand this, Antonia—I have no interest in learning how dear your mother was to you, or how much you meant to each other—let alone how passionately she wanted you to have this land in Sinnebar.’

‘Land?’ Antonia demanded with amazement. ‘What land?’

‘Oh, please,’ Ra’id said, shaking his head. ‘Can’t you do better than that? You will never rise from the ranks of the chorus to become a full-blown leading lady if you can’t put on a better act.’

‘This is no act,’ she protested, feeling as if a vice were closing around her chest. ‘I had no idea my mother even knew your father, let alone that she was his mistress.’

‘That’s a polite name for it.’

‘Stop, Ra’id—please, stop it!’ Holding out her hand as if to fend him off, she willed him to stop heaping insults on top of the confusion inside her. Then it occurred to her that as her heart had just been ripped in two he couldn’t do any more harm.

She returned quietly to the table where she sat down and scrutinised the documents. She had inherited land in Sinnebar and a property from her mother. She couldn’t have been more surprised. The news that Helena had been the late sheikh’s mistress on top of this …

But Ra’id gave her no chance to recover. ‘Do you still pretend you know nothing of this?’

‘Nothing—I swear.’ It was hard to take in the facts. Not only had her young mother been the late sheikh’s mistress, but Helena had been paid off when the sheikh had tired of her with this gift of land. It was clear the late sheikh had thought nothing of this valuable gift of territory within Sinnebar, while Ra’id viewed it quite differently. Ra’id was the highly principled conservator of a kingdom and guardian of his people, and no greater sin could have been committed as far as he was concerned. She could understand his resentment. She had inherited a parcel of his people’s land. It was a gift that had been passed from Helena to Antonia, who was not the daughter of the late sheikh but Antonio Ruggiero, the man who had rescued her mother from this life of …

She had no idea what her mother’s life had been like, Antonia realised with a sharp pang of regret. Raising her gaze to meet Ra’id’s hard, uncompromising stare, she knew she’d get no pity from him. But he still dazzled her, unreachable as he was. He was like a dark force framed in light, and one she must soften if her proposal for the charity was to succeed.

‘I will use the land for the good of your people,’ she said, feeling her strength and her courage return as a plan began to take shape in her mind.

‘You can only do that with my permission.’

‘But you will—’ She had sprung up too quickly, and now she was paying the price. ‘You must,’ she said weakly, clutching the table for support.

‘Are you ill?’ Ra’id demanded, observing her keenly.

‘No, I’m not ill,’ she managed, instantly protective of her baby. Ra’id’s child was a royal baby and could be stolen away from her by the stroke of his pen. She had to be cautious now.

‘A drink of water, perhaps?’ he suggested.

Antonia nodded, glad of the reprieve, and also relieved that even in his darkest rage Ra’id still had some flicker of humanity left in him. She sucked in a deep, steadying breath as he poured some water for her. Pregnancy might have weakened her, but what it couldn’t do was lessen her resolve, and she would not fail for want of defending herself against Ra’id’s unfair accusations.

‘This doesn’t change anything,’ he said, handing her the glass of water. ‘You have your mother’s blood in you.’

‘As you have your father’s,’ she flashed back. Ra’id might frighten her, but she was no doormat to be insulted by anyone. She wouldn’t give up, her gaze plainly told him; she didn’t know how to. This was her last chance to find out about her mother, to build a branch of the charity here and make it thrive. ‘It would be a tragic mistake if you allowed your feelings for me to impact negatively on what we can achieve together with the charity.’

His expression remained unchanged. It was as hostile as ever. It wouldn’t be so easy this time to build a bridge between them, Antonia realised, but she was as determined to push her proposals for the charity through as she was determined that her child would know its mother. Ra’id might be all ruthless, barbaric force, while she only had a dream to sustain her, but she had a store of stubbornness she hadn’t even begun to draw on yet. ‘I’ll need planning permission.’

‘To do what?’ he demanded.

‘Having read through this document, I see there’s an old fort on the land I have inherited.’ Ignoring his darkening expression, she went on. ‘I shall restore that.’

‘So you persist in this fantasy?’ he interrupted.

‘Obviously I would consult you first where any changes were concerned,’ Antonia rushed on, determined he would hear her.

‘You should know the land your mother left you lacks its own water supply.’

She made the mistake of staring into his eyes in confusion, only to see that the mockery she expected was mixed with slumbering passion in his gaze. ‘You’re enjoying this,’ she said faintly, shocked to think that Ra’id could still want to bed his prey when he was so obviously relishing this opportunity to destroy her.

‘The water course is on the wrong side of your border—and, unfortunately, you have no access to it.’

‘Unless you permit it?’ she guessed.

‘And I won’t permit it.’ Ra’id’s dark gaze glittered with triumph.

‘So my land is …?’

‘Worthless,’ Ra’id confirmed.

‘But not to me,’ Antonia insisted, remembering her plans. ‘The land is not worthless to me.’