The Sheik and the Runaway Princess

“No electricity?” she asked as Kardal cut the bindings on her wrists.

“We generate some, but not in the living quarters. There we live as we have for centuries.”

Again he took her hand in his, tugging her along. She tried to take everything in, but it was impossible. Everywhere she looked, she saw something old, beautiful and very likely, stolen. There were paintings by old masters and impressionists. She recognized the style but not the subject. There were some she’d seen in books, rare photographs of paintings missing and long thought destroyed.

Kardal led her through a maze of corridors, up and down stairs, twisting and turning until she was completely lost. People passed them, stopping to smile and bow slightly. If she hadn’t been sure of his identity before, by the time they finally stopped in front of double wooden doors, she was convinced. The Prince of Thieves, she thought in amazement. Who knew such a man existed?

It could be worse, she told herself as he pushed open one of the doors. He could be the troll prince. With that thought, she stepped into the room. And gasped. When Kardal released her, she turned in a slow circle, taking in the spacious quarters.

Each item of furniture was huge. The four-poster bed could easily sleep six or seven. There was a fainting couch, covered in the same thick burgundy as the bedspread and a fabulous Oriental carpet on the stone floor. A brilliant mosaic of a peacock displaying for his peahens graced one humongous wall. There was a fireplace as large as her dorm room and books. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of old, leather-bound books.

She crossed to them and reverently ran her fingers along their spines.

“Are they cataloged?” she asked, opening an old copy of Hamlet by Shakespeare, then gasping when she saw an inscription dated 1793. On the small table in front of her sat a hand-illustrated text of the Bible. She’d never seen such bounty.

Still holding the slim volume, she turned to face him. “Kardal, do you know what you have here? It’s priceless. The knowledge and history.”

He dismissed her with a wave. “Someone will see to you. A bath will be brought, along with appropriate clothing.”

She could barely force her attention away from her book to concentrate on what he was saying. “Appropriate?”

Something dark sparked to life in his eyes. “As my slave, you will have certain…responsibilities. To fulfill them you will need to dress to please me.”

She blinked at him. “You can’t be serious.” She replaced the book and for the first time really looked at the room. At the chaise and the very large bed. Her throat tightened.

“Uh, Kardal, really. This is a game, right?” She backed up until she pressed against the far wall. “I mean, I’m Princess Sabra. You have to think this through.”

He walked over to her, striding purposefully until he was directly in front of her. Close enough to touch. Which he did by cupping her jaw.

“I am aware of your identity so there’s no need to play the innocent with me.”

The implication of his words hit her like a slap. She flinched. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m not playing?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Your lifestyle in California is well documented. I might not approve of what you’ve done, but I intend to take advantage of it…and you.”

His fingertips barely grazed her cheek, yet she felt his touch all the way down to the pit of her stomach. He stood too close—it was nearly impossible to breathe. Fear combined with a sense of disbelief. He couldn’t really be saying all this. He couldn’t mean to…to—

“We can’t have sex,” she blurted.

“I will not be a selfish lover,” he promised. “You will be well pleased.”

She didn’t want to be pleased, Sabrina thought frantically. She wanted to be believed. Tears burned but she blinked them away. What was the point? Kardal would never listen, no matter how she protested. He thought she was some party girl who slept with every man who asked. Telling him she was a virgin would only make him laugh.

“I doubt my pleasure will be enough payment for what you have in mind,” she said bitterly.

“You’re making that judgment before you’ve had your way with me.”

“The only thing I want is to go back to the palace.”

He dropped his hand to his side. “Perhaps in time. When I grow tired of you. Until then—” He motioned to the room around them. “Enjoy your stay in my home. After all, you’ve finally found your heart’s desire. You now reside in the City of Thieves.”

He turned and left.

Trapped, she thought dully. She was well and truly trapped. She had no idea where she was, and didn’t know a soul to help her.

Sabrina slid down the wall until she sat crouched on the stone floor. He was right. She had found what she’d been looking for. Which reminded her of that old saying. The one about being careful about what one wished for. The wish might come true.

Chapter Four

“I can’t believe it,” Sabrina muttered as she stared at her reflection in the gilded full-length mirror in her bedroom. “I look like an extra in a badly made sheik movie.”

“The prince was most insistent,” said Adiva, the soft-spoken servant sent to help Sabrina “prepare herself” for Kardal’s return.

“I’ll just bet he was,” Sabrina said, then sighed. There wasn’t anything to be done and she refused to get angry at the young woman who had been so kind.

She glanced at Adiva. The young woman, barely eighteen, stood with her eyes averted. She wore a conservative tunic over loose trousers and had pulled her thick, dark hair back in a braid. No doubt the teenager had all the retiring qualities that Kardal admired in women. He would think nothing of defiling Sabrina, while he would treat Adiva like a saint.

Sabrina returned her attention to her reflection and tried not to choke. She wore gauzy, hip-hugger trousers that were fitted at her ankles. Except for the scrap of lining low on her belly, she was practically naked from the waist down. The thin fabric concealed nothing. The top half of her outfit wasn’t any better. The same pale, gauzy fabric draped over her arms, while all that covered her breasts was a bra-style lining in gold. Adiva had caught her long, curly red hair up in a ponytail that sat high on her head. It was held in place with a gold headband.

Adiva stepped back and bowed slightly. “I will leave you to await our master,” she said quietly.

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” Sabrina told her, trying to ignore the nervous jumping in her stomach. All costumes aside, she wasn’t in the mood to be ravished. Not that the Prince of Thieves was going to ask her opinion on the matter.

Adiva either didn’t hear her plea, or didn’t believe it. Or maybe there was nothing the girl could do. She bowed again, then turned and left Sabrina alone.

The long room turned out to be perfect for pacing. Sabrina stalked from one end to the other, cursing Kardal, calling herself an idiot for setting out yesterday alone. If only the storm hadn’t come up. If only she hadn’t lost her horse and her camel. If only Kardal weren’t going to force her to have sex with him.

He was in for a surprise, she told herself, trying to keep her sense of humor and not panic. He was expecting Bathsheba, and instead he was about to get the virgin Sabrina. At least she would have the satisfaction of knowing that after he defiled her, he would be killed. However, that was small comfort. What would please her more would be a way to prevent the situation from occurring at all.

She reached the window and tried to find beauty in the view of the courtyard below and the marketplace in the distance. It was growing late and most people were hurrying home. She wished she could do the same. She turned to retrace her steps.

“Stand still so that I may look upon you.”

The words came out of nowhere and startled her into freezing in place. Kardal stood just inside the door. He had entered as quietly as a ghost. She’d heard neither the door open nor close. Darn the man for being so stealthy.

He’d cleaned up, she thought, looking at him and trying to still the rapid thundering of her heart. The man cleaned up pretty good. He still wore loose trousers and a linen shirt, but they were freshly pressed. His hair gleamed damply in the lantern light and his jaw was freshly shaved. Not wanting to know what he was thinking, she avoided glancing at his eyes, but she couldn’t help notice the elegant sweep of his nose or the strength inherent in his jawline. Were he not a kidnapper and a potential defiler of women, she might think him very handsome.

She had tried to make her study of him surreptitious, but he did not share her good manners. Instead he gazed at her as if he were considering the purchase of a mare. He stalked around her, looking at her from behind, then returning to stand in front of her again.

His attention made her shiver. She felt both his power and her near-nakedness. She liked neither. Fear took up residence low in her belly, making her chest tighten and her fingers curl toward her palms.

“You can’t do this,” she said, trying to make her voice strong, but sounding scared instead. “I’m a royal princess. The price of doing…that to me would be death. Besides, as the Prince of Thieves, you owe allegiance to the king of Bahania. To so insult his daughter would be an insult to him.”

Kardal folded his arms over his chest. “You’re forgetting that the king of Bahania doesn’t care about his daughter.”

She fought back a wince. “Actually I have trouble forgetting that, as much as I would like to.”

“Do you really think he would be angry?” he asked, stepping closer.