The Sheikh's Impetuous Love-Slave by Marguerite Kaye

stared up at him like that. Defiant, challenging, determined not to let him see what she really felt. Only five days ago, but it seemed like an eternity. It seemed like his whole life had been waiting for this point, this woman. He would not lose her now.
    â€˜Khalid? The goddess, do you have her?’
    â€˜There is only one goddess I’m interested in at the moment. Look at me, Juliette.’
    When she did, she saw a light in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Despite her attempts to suppress it, hope flared like a torch flame fanned by a gust of air. ‘What is it?’
    â€˜We were meant to be together. You and I, ma belle Juliette. I laughed at the idea Shal’aal might be a portent, but she is. She has brought us together. You were meant for me, as I was meant for you. I love you, Juliette.’
    â€˜Khalid! If this is about last night, you did not—you do not have to—’
    â€˜Oh but, Juliette, I do! Not because I feel obliged to, but because I cannot help myself. Juliette, my Juliette, surely you feel, as I do, that you have been sent to me. That we were made for each other, destined to be with each other.’
    â€˜But it’s impossible, Khalid. You must know that.’
    â€˜Nothing is impossible if you want it enough. Nothing will stop me taking you as my wife, placing you by my side as you were meant to be, save one thing—that you do not love me.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘Do you love me, Juliette, as I love you?’
    â€˜Oh Khalid, I love you so much, but….’
    â€˜What then? Are you worried about your family, never returning to France?’
    â€˜I have no family now, nor any allegiance to a country that used and abused my poor father. But you are a royal prince, Khalid. I am a commoner and a foreigner to boot. Your subjects….’
    â€˜My subjects should rejoice at my great fortune to have you as my wife. With you by my side, I will be a far better ruler. Be my princess, Juliette. Say you love me.’
    He loved her. He really loved her. She could not quite believe it, yet it seemed the most natural thing in the whole world. ‘I love you, Khalid.’ Juliette laughed with sheer joy. ‘I love you,’ she cried, the words echoing round the temple. ‘ Je t’aime, Khalid. Je t’adore.’
    He pulled her ruthlessly into his arms, holding her tight, so tight it would have hurt were it not so wonderful. ‘ Ma belle, now I will show you what it is like to be loved. Truly loved. Now we will give our thanks to Shal’aal, our own goddess of love, together.’
    He laid her down on the cool marble of the altar. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I want you for my wife. Say you will be mine. Say you will give me that most precious gift, my darling, your innocence.’
    â€˜It is yours. It was always yours. Make love to me, Khalid. Please. I’ve been waiting all my life for you.’
    It was the promise he needed. She was all he would ever want. Reverently, he removed each piece of her clothing, trailing kisses over her skin as he did so, each one landing as delicately as a butterfly, each one adding to the slow build of anticipation. Her neck. Her arms. Her breasts. The indent of her waist. The slight curve of her belly. Her knees. Her ankles. Her feet. The tender skin on the inside of her thighs. The marble was cool on her back. Goose bumps prickled where Khalid’s lips brushed her skin. She felt revered, worshipped, adored and utterly alive.
    Khalid removed his tunic, allowing it to pool at his feet on the floor of the temple. A shaft of sunlight slanted down through the ruined roof, bathing them in its glow, suffusing Juliette’s skin with a golden glow, rendering her like the goddess she reminded him of. Her hair, like an obsidian river, streamed down onto the floor. Her eyes were wide, focused entirely on him as he stood proudly erect before her. She arched her back, lifting