The Sheikh Who Blackmailed Her: Desert Prince, Blackmailed Bride / The Sheikh and the Bought Bride / At the Sheikh's Bidding

‘You usually warn me off unsuitable women. I’m amazed you introduced her to me—went out of your way to introduce her to me if she’s got a skeleton in the closet. And since when were you interested in what I think?’

A spasm of regret crossed Rafiq’s dark features. ‘I am sorry if I have excluded you, Hakim,’ he said abruptly.

Hakim stared. ‘Well, if that sorrow is worth a new Porsche—great. I’m really not all that scarred because I haven’t sat in on endless meetings on agricultural policy.’ His eyes narrowed, and despite the levity of his manner there was some concern in his face as he asked, ‘What is all this hair-shirt stuff, Rafiq?’

His eyes widened again as a fairly revolutionary possibility hit him. Was it possible Rafiq was asking his advice? Or at least asking for him to tell him to go for it, even if she didn’t tick all the boxes?

He must really like her!

‘What do you need my opinion for anyway? Are you trying to tell me that you haven’t already got a file an inch thick on Gabby?’ Hakim knew that his brother entered into relationships the same way he would a financial negotiation. He did his research and was not flexible. He did not make concessions.

But this time it looked as if whatever dirt he had on the girl in question had not put him off. But perhaps he thought it should? Who knew? Hakim thought. They were in new territory.

The file Hakim had spoken of had indeed arrived in its more complete form, on his desk that morning. Rafiq had put it straight in a locked drawer, telling himself that he would study it later.

But no matter what was in that file, no matter what or who lay in Gabriella’s past, it would not alter the fact that she’d make a better wife than his brother deserved, and would be a queen that any country would be proud to boast of.

‘What a woman did before she met you is hardly important.’

Hakim, in the act of stirring more sugar into his coffee, stopped and turned to stare at his brother in utter amazement. Rafiq was serious … How serious …? Wife serious?

‘So if you decided to get married tomorrow you wouldn’t want to know ahead of time if your prospective bride had any scandals that might be embarrassing?’

‘The same premise applies.’

Hakim’s jaw dropped. ‘Is this the same man speaking who once told me that a royal bride needs to be squeaky clean, no unsavoury secrets, no skeletons in the closet. The next thing you’ll be telling me is she doesn’t have to be a virgin.’

Rafiq did not join in his brother’s amused laughter. ‘It is better to be the last man in a woman’s life than the first.’ Better, of course, to be both. But Rafiq appreciated that in the modern world that limited a man’s choices. His choices were non-existent, but Hakim had a life of choices ahead of him. Of course he didn’t know how lucky he was, because it was the human way not to appreciate what you had until it was being taken from you.

Hakim stopped laughing and stared. ‘Will whatever alien that has taken over your body let me speak to my brother, Rafiq?’

‘Do not be foolish,’ Rafiq snapped, his brows knitting into an irritated frown.

‘You know what you’re talking like?’ Hakim fixed his brother with a narrowed, speculative stare. ‘You’re talking like a man who’s fallen in love. Have you ever been in love, Rafiq?’

‘Not as often as you, little brother.’

‘Clever,’ Hakim admired. ‘But you didn’t answer the question.’

‘And I am not going to.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘GABBY—Gabby wherefore art thou …?’

Gabby, who had been sitting in a chair staring out over the palace illuminated against a deep velvet starry sky, got to her feet and, standing well back from the edge, looked down cautiously. Prince Hakim was standing beneath the balcony, his hand pressed to his heart and a grin on his handsome face.

‘At school,’ he called up, ‘I always wanted to be Romeo, but being the prettiest boy in school, and until I was seventeen one of the shortest, I was always Juliet.’

‘From what I hear you’ve had a lot of practice playing Romeo since.’

He grimaced. ‘Ouch! Someone has been telling tales. If you leaned down I could climb up your hair.’

Gabby lifted a hand to her hair. After a shower it had reverted to type and gone its own sweet way. ‘Make up your mind. Am I Juliet or Rapunzel?’ she said, throwing a rope of silky blonde threads over her shoulder.

‘I wish I could stay around and discover, but alas I’m flying back to Paris tonight.’

‘Isn’t that a bit unexpected?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes. But something my brother said has made my mind up about something …’

‘Something Rafiq said …?’ Gabby’s face fell. ‘So he’s told you …’ She felt relief, and then almost immediately alarm and indignation. ‘But you must realise that you can’t go!’

‘Why can’t I go?’

Her words were jumbled in her anxiety to convince him that his dying brother needed him here. ‘Oh, I know the stuff about me is a bit crazy, but don’t worry—that will blow over. I think it’s his way of coping, staying in control. He needs you here. I know he pushes people away, and acts as though he’s invincible, but—’

Hakim’s voice minus the mockery and laughter sounded much more like his brother’s as he cut across her. ‘Why does Rafiq need me here?’

‘Why?’ She closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her mouth—a bit late now, Barton. She groaned. ‘You don’t know, do you?’ Oh, God, what had she done?

‘Don’t know what?’

‘I can’t tell you. I gave my word.’

Hakim swore at length and then, after first testing the strength of the wrought-iron support of the balcony, began to climb up it.

From above Gabby watched, her heart in her mouth.

Across the courtyard Rafiq, standing next to an ornate fountain, watched with very different feelings. He had arrived in time to watch the entire scene. Thanks to the noise from the fountain he hadn’t been able to hear what was being said, but he had a pretty good idea. He couldn’t see them now that Hakim had grabbed her and pushed into the bedroom, but he had a pretty good idea what was happening.

It wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t allow it!

The primal rage that surfaced in him lasted the time it took him to charge across the courtyard and reach the balcony. He stood in the exact spot his brother had. He could see the imprint of his footprints in the freshly watered grass. The rage turned to cold stone inside him.

What was he going to do? Climb up and claim her? Well, that made sense—he had so much more to offer a woman than Hakim. Take me, because I’m a dying man.

Half an hour later, when the sprinkler system switched on again, Rafiq was still standing in the same spot. The jets of water roused him from the dark place he had gone to. He let his head fall back and lifted his eyes to the sky as water streamed down his face, and he felt the pain of the primal scream locked in his throat.

He ached for a woman he had pushed into the arms of his brother. He couldn’t even summon a smile to recognise the dark irony.

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ Gabby said, falling to her knees beside Prince Hakim, who sat hunched in a chair his face hidden in his hands. ‘I thought he had told you.’

Hakim lifted his head. His face was chalk-white and his dark eyes stricken. ‘I don’t believe it. Rafiq is … he’s never been ill a day in his life. Why the hell didn’t he tell me?’ He turned a resentful glare on Gabby. ‘He told you.’

‘That’s because I’m a stranger.’

‘I’m his brother.’