Hidden In the Sheikh's Harem by Michelle Conder Page B

to a high gloss from the sunshine streaming in through high arched windows.
    Realising she was letting herself become awestruck, she dug her heels into the polished floor. ‘You can’t do this.’
    Of course he didn’t respond to her outraged cry but stopped before an enormous carved door. Ignoring her, he turned towards two guards who had rushed to follow them. ‘No one comes in here, no one goes out—is that clear?’
    â€˜Yes, Your Highness,’ they said in unison.
    â€˜I won’t let you use me this way,’ Farah asserted as he shoved her into the room.
    When he gave a short, sharp laugh she stared at him belligerently. ‘You have no grounds to hold me.’
    The prince turned cold, menacing eyes on her and for the first time she noticed the deep brown ring that bordered all that gold. ‘I don’t need a reason.’
    â€˜Right. Your word is law, is that it?’ Farah tossed her filthy hair which she’d replaited after the prince had sifted his fingers through it back over her shoulder.
    He stepped into her space and brought his face level with hers. ‘That is it, yes. An eye for an eye. Isn’t that what your father believes in?’
    Her father did unfortunately hold to that cynical view of the world but Farah didn’t.
    Dismissing her, he turned towards a maid she hadn’t noticed slip into the room behind them. Only half listening to what he was saying to the girl, Farah took in the scope of the opulent room for the first time. And what she saw made her gasp out loud.
    â€˜Oh, my...is this the harem?’
    â€˜What gave it away?’ the prince drawled lazily. ‘The cherub motifs on the wall or the large sunken marble tub in the middle of the room?’ He walked over to it and raised his foot to rest on the curved edge like the insolent sheikh that he was.
    Farah told herself not to react but it was no good. There was something about him that pushed all reason out of her brain and replaced it with...with something she did not want to identify. ‘I’m not staying in here.’
    â€˜No?’ He raised a brow. ‘Admittedly the soft furnishings are quite old but it’s about to be renovated. Perhaps the updated version will be more to your liking.’
    â€˜I won’t be around long enough to see it,’ she promised.
    â€˜Don’t be so sure.’ He straightened and headed back to her. His nose twitched. ‘See that she has a bath,’ he said to the maid, although he didn’t take his eyes from hers.
    See that she
... Farah’s gaze narrowed into angry slits. If he thought she would just fall in with his plans he was wrong. There was no way she was going to wait around in this horrible room for her father to show up. If she could somehow escape and get back to him she would.
    Her silence must have spoken volumes because he cast her a condescending smile. ‘I can almost hear your mind ticking over, and if you’re thinking of trying to leave I would advise against it.’
    Farah angled her chin up and suddenly their faces were only inches apart, his gaze fixed on her mouth. It was impossible not to be aware of him, and for one—no, two—erratic heartbeats she thought he was going to kiss her and her breath backed up in her lungs. Then he moved away. Slowly.
    Incensed that she had stood there like a besotted idiot instead of pushing him away, she lashed out in a show of rash pride. ‘Fortunately for me, I don’t have to take your advice.’
    He regarded her with a cool look that said he knew exactly what he did to her. ‘Just try it and see how far you get.’
    Oh, she wanted to. She wanted to do that and more. And the feeling only grew worse when he reached the main door and turned back, his gaze raking her from head to toe and making her tingle with hot, impotent fury.
    â€˜And burn those clothes she’s wearing,’ he instructed the maid.