She wanted to point out that he had only just acquired a horse—Nabat—so why on earth was he looking to buy another? But, of course, Nabat was not an experienced polo pony—he just happened to be a race-winner among his own particular Arabian breed. And she knew that Kaliq had invested much of his own personal fortune in modernising the polo club on Calista—so presumably he needed to build up a winning stable of his own.
Eleni suddenly recognised that, as well as royal princes being spoiled by possessions and wealth, here was a man with a very low threshold of boredom. One horse was never enough—why, give him a hundred horses and he would probably still seek the one he did not have! And even if his polo club became the most famous in the world—that would probably fail to satisfy him, too.
If she’d had the freedom to speak her mind then she might have told him so, and to hell with the consequences. Even if he kicked her off the royal land—then surely she could find herself some sort of gainful employment to put bread in her mouth.
But as well as being fearful of launching out on her own—in a world where she had always been relatively protected—she would also have to leave Nabat behind. No, she was trapped in this bizarre situation as surely as the wounded hare over which the falcon circled…
And then she remembered some of the things the sheikh had said to her last night—when he hadn’t been kissing her. She remembered the fierce, harsh look of pain which had momentarily transformed his face into a bitter mask and she felt herself melt in spite of her misgivings. Had the tragic loss of his brother and the subsequent guilt made him into the man he was today? A man who did not really know what it was he was looking for? And should she not take that into account when dealing with him—for surely there could be a corner of kindness in her heart for this privileged and yet wounded man?
‘I do not have a passport,’ said Eleni primly, and Kaliq threw his dark head back, and laughed.
‘You think that is going to be a problem for the companion of a sheikh?’ he drawled.
‘No, I suppose not,’ she agreed. But she wanted to ask him if he didn’t ever wish that it was. Didn’t he ever yearn for the constraints and problems of the ordinary person?
‘Your passport will be arranged,’ he said silkily and his eyes roved lazily over her. ‘But you will need clothing more suited to the West.’
Protectively, Eleni’s hand strayed to her well-worn riding top. ‘I appreciate that this would be unsuitable—but you have already provided me with an extensive wardrobe of fine clothes, for which I thank you, Highness. And I promise that from now on I shall wear them all the time—’
‘But you might wish to wear different clothes in Europe,’ he said bluntly.
‘Do you?’ she challenged.
He laughed. ‘No, I do not—but I am the sheikh who can behave however he wishes, and you are nothing but a stable girl. The world of polo in Europe is quite unlike anything you will have ever dreamed of, Eleni. You will be moving among some of the wealthiest and most cosseted women in the world, and perhaps would prefer to blend in. Dress like that and you will be patronised.’
Eleni shook her head in denial. ‘The attitude of other women will not concern me,’ she said proudly. ‘For I am a decent Calistan woman, and I cannot show my flesh in public!’
‘And you will not,’ he agreed. ‘But there are more alluring ways of covering your body than by wearing these traditional garments. Oh, and, Eleni?’
‘Highness?’
‘Let us be very clear on one thing. You may be decent and you are certainly from Calista and you may look like a woman, but you are not one yet.’ He paused. ‘You are still a girl,’ he added softly.
How stupid could she have been not to have interpreted the gleaming light of intent in his black eyes as he uttered these somehow damning words? Or seen the hand which snaked out like a cobra to snare her and bring her crushing up against him?
And despite the loose-fitting silken garment he wore—Eleni could feel every sinew and hard muscle beneath, almost as if, as if…
‘Yes,’ he said softly as he saw the colour begin to rise in her cheeks and felt the sudden change as her body stiffened with awareness. ‘Did you not know that royal princes do not like to be constrained? I am naked beneath my robes!’
‘Highness!’ It was as if he had read her thoughts. Oh, but she prayed that he couldn’t! Because then he might get some kind of inkling of how… how… exciting she found his embrace. How tantalising she found his closeness.
Dizzily, she swayed, aware of some raw and heady scent coming from his warm male body and, despite her total lack of experience with the opposite sex, she knew enough to realise that this was desire, pure and simple. And didn’t she feel an answering desire—as memories of his sweet kiss filled her body with longing?
He brought his lips up close to her ear and his breath was warm, too. Warm and as enticing as a soft, summer breeze and she gave a sigh.
‘Ah, Eleni,’ he said softly. ‘Shall I dismiss the stable staff and take you over to a quiet corner and make you into a woman here and now? Believe me, you will never get a better offer. Your sheikh showing you all the pleasures of the body which are all there, just for the taking. Just slide your hand up underneath my robe and feel how hard I am for you.’
‘Highness!’ she gasped.
‘Was that supposed to be a protest?’ he taunted silkily as his mouth moved down to graze along the slim column of her neck. ‘Because if so, you need to put a little more feeling into it to convince me.’
‘I… I… Her throat was so parched that the sounds she made sounded like a dry leaf being crunched underfoot. Just kiss me, she thought—even though she despised herself for wanting it. Just please kiss me the way you did last night.
Sensing her longing, Kaliq was tempted to take her. To have done with the hunger and, by so doing, to rid himself of it. But it would be a bore to have to first clear the stable—and it would be bound to incite talk among the staff, no matter how much they feared the consequences of idle chatter. And while he was often the subject of gossip and careless of it—he recognised that a quick coupling with the stable girl might be going just a little too far. He was reckless, yes—but he was not completely stupid.
He loosened his grip slightly—not letting her go completely because he realised that she might actually faint. A woman fainting in his arms—yet another of his fantasies come true! For a moment a passion so sweet and so intensely powerful coursed through his veins that his resolve was severely tested.
But surely it would be much easier to have his way with her in Europe—where sexual freedom was taken for granted? He could enjoy her sweet, virginal body—and give her the heady experience he had promised. No one would know—even if they did, who would particularly care? And afterwards he could dismiss her and make sure that she was set up for life. She would have memories of bliss to keep her warm during the long, harsh nights of winter.
‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, lizard,’ he drawled.
Eleni looked up at him and bit her bottom lip. ‘Why do you call me lizard?’
His mouth curved. ‘Because your eyes are so green and you move almost without seeming to and with such supple grace.’ He lifted his hand and cupped her chin in his palm. ‘And because you are very quick.’
There was a breathless moment where he could see her face glow—clearly flattered at the nickname—and so she should be. Take her now, he thought urgently, and then he looked up to see Abdul-Aziz walking across the stable yard towards them and abruptly Kaliq let Eleni