Maisey Yates - His Christmas Conquest - The Sheikh's Christmas Conquest / A Christmas Vow of Seduction / Claiming His Christmas Consequence

Moments later, Saladin came to find her—all quietly brooding power as he stood in the doorway with his cool black eyes surveying her.

‘You are satisfied with your seat, I hope?’ he questioned.

She was trying hard not to show she was hurt—but suddenly it wasn’t easy to bite back the feelings that were bubbling up inside her. ‘I wasn’t expecting us to be sitting apart. Not after...’ She clamped her lips shut, aware of having said too much. Did expressing vulnerability count as tenderness? she wondered.

He glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice. ‘Not after having had sex with you—is that what you mean?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she mumbled.

‘It does,’ he said, suddenly breaking into an angry torrent of Jazratian, which was directed at the hapless steward who had appeared at the doorway behind him, but who now beat a hasty retreat. ‘It matters because I’m afraid this is how things are going to be from now on.’

She stared at him, not quite understanding what he meant until his stony expression told her more clearly than any words could have done. ‘You mean—?’

‘What happened in England must stay in England, for we cannot be intimate in Jazratan,’ he said. ‘The laws of my country are very strict on such matters—and it would offend my people deeply if it was discovered that I was having sex with an unmarried woman. Particularly an unmarried foreigner.’ He shrugged, as if to take some of the heat from his words. ‘For I am the sheikh and you are my employee, Livvy, and from now on we will not be stepping outside the boundaries of those roles.’

It was several moments before Livvy could trust herself to speak, and if the giant plane hadn’t already been taxiing down the runway, she honestly thought she might have run up to the steward and demanded they let her out.

But she couldn’t. She had agreed to take the job and she was going to have to behave like a professional. And anyway—mightn’t this strategy be the best strategy for keeping her emotions protected? If she and Saladin were to be segregated, it would be very difficult to foster any kind of attachment to him. So even though his words hurt, somehow she found the strength to force a careless smile onto her lips.

‘Well, that’s a relief,’ she said.

His black eyes narrowed. ‘A relief?’

‘Sure. I’ve got a lot of reading I want to get through before we land. I told you it was a long time since I’d worked with horses.’ With a wave of her hand, she gestured towards the books she’d just unpacked. ‘So I’d better have a browse through these. Reacquaint myself with the species, even if it’s only theoretical—until I get to meet Burkaan. So please don’t let me keep you,’ she added. ‘I’ll be perfectly happy here on my own.’

His face was a picture—as if he’d just realised that in effect she was dismissing him—yet he could hardly object to her demand for privacy after what he’d just said.

But once he’d gone, and she was left with the opened but unread pages of Healing Horses Naturally , Livvy found herself staring out of the window at the black sky as England receded, unable to deny the sudden pain that clenched like a vice around her heart.

He’d made her sound...

Like a cliché.

An unmarried foreign woman he was forbidden to have sex with.

She closed her eyes. He had come to the house determined to employ her, and for a while she had resisted him. Had he looked at her and wondered whether seduction was a price he was prepared to pay in order to guarantee her services? She bit her lip.

Even when she’d told him that she was a virgin—and a twenty-nine-year-old virgin, to boot... A lot of men might have stopped at that point. But not Saladin. Had he guessed that sex would make her eager to do his bidding? Did he realise that she would find it very difficult to refuse to work for him after what had taken place between them?

Damn him.

So stop letting him take control , she thought. Be grateful that he’s shown you are capable of sexual pleasure but also be grateful that he has put this barrier between you, because there is no future with Saladin and there never can be.

She picked up the cup of jasmine tea that had just been put on the table by a slightly nervous-looking steward.

She was going to have to start being rational. She was here on a life-changing salary to help his horse, and she would do her utmost to accomplish that. The sex she must forget. She had to .

She slept for almost six hours and, when she awoke, discovered that the little shower was much better than the one at home. Afterwards she felt a million times better and was just tucking into a bowl of delicious porridge topped with iced mango when the curtain between the two sections of the plane was drawn back, and she looked up to see Saladin standing there.

It was slightly disconcerting that he’d changed from his Western clothes into an outfit more befitting a desert sheikh, because it only seemed to emphasise the vast gulf between them. Gone were the trousers, sweater and cashmere coat, and in their place were flowing robes of pure silk that completely covered him, yet hinted at the hard body beneath. His ebony hair was now hidden by a headdress, held in place by a circlet of knotted scarlet cord—and against the pale material his golden-dark features looked forbidding.

He looked like a fantasy.

Like a stranger.

And that was exactly what he was, Livvy reminded herself grimly.

His eyes fixed on her, he waited, and she was sure he expected her to scramble to her feet, but she simply finished her mouthful of porridge and gave him a faint smile.

‘Morning,’ she said.

He frowned before slowly inclining his head, as if forcing himself to respond civilly to her casual greeting. ‘Good morning. Did you sleep well during the flight?’

‘Like a dormouse, as they say in France.’ Again, she smiled. ‘Did you?’

Saladin felt the pounding of a pulse at his temple, her glib response only adding to his growing annoyance and frustration. No, he had not slept well, for the night had seemed endless. He had tossed and turned and eventually had drawn up one of the blinds to stare out at the jewelled and inky sky as the plane travelled through the night towards Jazratan. It had been a long time since he’d endured such restlessness. Not since...

But the realisation that he was comparing simple sexual frustration to the worst time of his life filled him with an angry guilt. Pushing aside the turmoil of his thoughts, he acknowledged the insolent way in which Livvy Miller was leaning back on her elbows, watching him. Her amber eyes were hooded and her lips gleamed from the mouthful of jasmine tea she had just drunk. How dared she continue to drink and eat in his presence?

He had told her there would be no more intimacy, but he certainly hadn’t given her permission to abandon all protocol. Didn’t she realise that there was an etiquette that needed to be adhered to whenever he entered the room? You did not greet the king of Jazratan with such blatant carelessness, and this was something she needed to be aware of before she arrived at the palace.

‘You are supposed to stand when I enter the room,’ he said coolly.

‘Am I?’ She fixed him with a deliberate look of challenge. ‘As I recall, you seemed to prefer it when I was lying down.’

‘Livvy!’ He glanced behind him as he ground out his protest, feeling the instant rush of heat to his groin. ‘You mustn’t—’

‘Mustn’t what?’ she interrupted in a low tone. ‘Tell it like it is? Well, I’m sorry, Saladin, but I don’t intend to be a hypocrite. I accept the intimacy ban you’ve imposed because, now I’ve had time to think about it, I can understand it and I think it’s a good idea. But if you think I’m going to be sinking to the ground into a curtsy and lowering my eyes demurely whenever you appear, then you are very much mistaken.’