The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 10

Kat shook her head. Had she drank so much? Surely not. She had wandered into a farthest part of the gardens where the willow trees had been planted long ago. Their branches dipped low almost to the ground as she stepped inside one. She looked down at her hands. They were shaking.

She remembered his brown hair and goatee as his mouth touched hers and those smoldering eyes that said so much when he said so little.

The air was cold and her breath foamed out as she exhaled. The willow tree's branches encircled her and protected her as she sighed.

She must let it go. She must forget him. This would only drive her mad she told herself for the thousandth time.

She smoothed her silk dress down at the waist. "Silly." She breathed out and turned to go back to the party.

Her quick intake of breath and the pounding of her heart inside her chest happened instantaneously.

She shook her head and closed her eyes.

"You aren't real," she breathed out in disbelief - her breath foaming in the cold air.

"Oh, I'm real enough," he mocked her.

His clothes were of a European cut with his hair pulled back without a wig. But his golden bronzed body belied the fact that he was not European and never would be. He would never fit in and would never want to. He had come here for one reason.

"I don't understand, how are you here?" Kat asked him as her fantasy and nightmare collided together. She pressed a hand to her exposed chest as her heart raced.

Mohammed smiled. "The horse, your Arabian - was my Arabian. I bred and sold him to your father."

"Did you know when you sold it to him that it was for me?"

"Yes." His dark eyes met her blue ones.

Mohammed watched her intake of breath which caused her breasts to swell over her scooped neckline.

He had watched her that night not able to take his eyes from her.

He had many dealings with Europeans because he and his brother bred horses in Arabia but he had never accompanied the horses. He had always dealt with the foreigners, accepted their money and had his men transport the horses. This time was different. This time everything was different.

Her father had written him sometime ago to inquire upon the price of an Arabian stallion. Edward wrote in detail about his spirited daughter explaining that the horse must be the same.

Mohammed had accompanied the horse to England to bring back what was his by Arab law.

He had watched her flirt in and out of the circles of Englishmen at the ball. He had watched her stand with a blonde dandy who had rested his hand on Kat's waist and clenched his fist in anger.

She used her body well to trap men into wanting what they couldn't have. Poor Majeed had found out the hard way. His own brother seduced by the little falcon, he should have known.

And now, after coming across the sea – he was here to claim her again. There would be no negotiations and no bargains, she would be his.

Unaware of his thoughts, Kat shook her head confused. Her diamond earrings glistened in the dark.

"Why are you here?"

Mohammed stepped toward her. "You know exactly why I'm here. I'm here to take back what's mine."

He closed the small gap between them and jerked her into his arms.

"No –" was all she managed to say before his mouth took hers. He was clean shaven and well groomed which only made him more dangerous. She knew what was underneath the fancy clothes.

His one hand held her body to his while his other hand went to the back of her head. He pulled out the pins that held her hair in place causing a golden waterfall down her back.

"Please –" Kat tried to move away from him but couldn't. His mouth moved over hers but the kiss wasn't sweet. His mouth raped hers until she tasted blood and his tongue delved against hers.

His leg came in between hers as he pushed her back into the trunk of the willow tree.

"You are mine." He breathed into her neck before he lightly bit into it. His bite caused goose pimples to break out on her arms and she shivered.

"No please, things are different. This is a different place." She gasped.

"You and I are the same, princess."

Kat shivered in the cold and at his words. "No we aren't."

Mohammed held her body against the tree. "I have not come this far to play games." His hand moved to her low cut gown and moved his fingers inside. Without tearing her dress he pushed her breasts up and the dress down and took one tight nipple into his warm mouth. Kat gasped at the intrusion.

"You dress like a whore here. Then play the whore for me." His fingers threaded into her hair as his mouth touched her other nipple –tight and wanting the attention. She moaned in spite of herself.

She felt herself come alive as she arched into him. She couldn't help it. "Moan for me, princess. I remember how you like it." He whispered in her ear and Kat blushed in shame.

His hand wrapped around her long blonde hair and pulled down on it so her head jerked up.

His mouth touched her sensitive neck and he pressed into her body.

"If I fucked you right here - would you even try and stop me?" He asked cruelly.

Kat almost cried out. She wanted him to lift up the hem of her dress. She would have given her soul to feel his thick cock deep inside her. She could feel her juices damp inside her.

"Please," Kat said as she tried to fight her conflicting emotions.

Mohammed watched her face and saw her unshed tears. He released her pushing her away from him and she stumbled. She pulled on her bodice to cover herself and tried to pull her hair back but her hands were shaking.

Kat shook her head. "You shouldn't have come." She was trying hard not to cry in front of him. "You have to go."

"I am not leaving England without you." Mohammed told her before he left her alone underneath the willow tree.

Kat stood staring after him. Had this proud, intelligent man really come to bring her back to Arabia?

Her heart shuddered at the thought. What were the lengths he would go to keep her? And what would he do when the betrothal was announced tonight?

Kat trembled at the thought. But deep down inside she suddenly felt alive.