Sheikh's Captured Bride: The Sheikh's Prize / The Sheikh's Son / Captured by the Sheikh. Кейт Хьюит

and easily to their brother’s attractions.

      ‘You know, when you blush, the tip of your nose turns pink as well,’ Zahir husked. ‘It’s cute as hell.’

      ‘You know what happened in the desert…the baby,’ Saffy said sharply. ‘It’s all your fault.’

      A sizzling, utterly unexpected smile played across Zahir’s wide sensual mouth and startled her. ‘I know. But out of it I gained a very beautiful wife and we have a baby in our future and I can’t find it within my heart to regret anything we did.’

      Her eyes prickled and she blinked rapidly, knowing that her acid and pointless comment had not deserved so generous a response. Suddenly her tension gave and she rested her head down on his broad shoulder, drinking in and loving the familiar scent of him—warm clean male laced with an evocative hint of sandalwood. She was momentarily weak with the sheer amount of emotion pumping through her and so confused, still so desperately confused about what she felt, what she truly thought. With every passing moment, her feelings seemed to swing to one side and then violently to the other. So much had happened between them in such a short time frame that she was mentally all over the place.

      Saffy was half asleep by the time they left for the airport. She had changed into a very elegant shift dress and jacket almost the same colour as her eyes and let her hair down to flow round her shoulders in a golden mane. Relaxation was infiltrating her for the first time that day. Drowsily she studied the platinum ring on her finger. They were married again: she couldn’t quite believe it.

      ‘I think I’ll sleep all the way to Maraban,’ Saffy told him apologetically as they boarded the private jet.

      ‘It’s been a long day and it is after midnight,’ Zahir conceded wryly. ‘But first there’s something I’d like to tell you.’

      Alert to the guarded note in his dark deep drawl, Saffy felt her adrenalin start to pump. The jet took off and drinks were served. She undid her belt, let the stewardess show her into the sleeping compartment where she freshened up, and then she rejoined Zahir, made herself comfortable and sipped her fresh orange juice. ‘So?’ she prompted quietly, proud of her patience and self-discipline while she wondered what he had to unveil. ‘What is it?’

      Zahir straightened his broad shoulders and settled hard dark eyes on her without flinching. ‘I’ve bought the Desert Ice cosmetics company.’

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      SAFFY BLINKED IN astonishment, for of all the many surprises she had thought Zahir might want to disclose that one staggering confession had not figured. She set down her glass and stood up, her mind in a bemused fog. ‘You bought the company? But why? Why the heck would you do that?’

      ‘It was a good investment.’ Zahir loosed a sardonic laugh that bluntly dismissed that explanation. ‘But I bought it only for your benefit. I knew the company had a cast-iron contract with you and I didn’t want anyone putting pressure on you while you were pregnant.’

      Eyes slowly widening, Saffy stared back at him in rampant disbelief, while she wondered what strings he had pulled to learn the contract terms she had been on with the company. ‘I can’t believe that you would interfere in my career to that extent!’ she admitted in stunned disbelief, anger steadily gathering below the surface of that initial reaction. ‘Nobody was putting pressure on me at the meeting I attended with their campaign manager this week.’

      Cynicism hardened Zahir’s expressive mouth, making him look inexpressibly tough in a way far different from the younger man she remembered. It was a look that was hard, weathered and unapologetic and she refused to be intimidated by it. ‘Naturally not. By that time, I was the new owner, so of course there was no pressure. They can film your face as much as they like while you’re pregnant but they’ll be doing it in Maraban.’

      ‘In… Maraban?’ Saffy parroted as though he had suggested somewhere as remote as the moon.

      ‘I don’t want you forced to travel thousands of miles round the globe now that you’re pregnant. It would be too stressful for you.’

      ‘And what would you know about that?’ Saffy demanded hotly. ‘What do you know about what a pregnant woman needs?’

      ‘I don’t want you exhausted,’ Zahir asserted grimly. ‘I appreciate that the baby is a development that wasn’t planned or, indeed, expected, but adjustments have to be made to your working schedule.’

      ‘You’re not the boss of me!’ Saffy hissed back at him in helpless outrage. ‘You know, the one phrase I heard you speak most clearly was, “I don’t want…” This is about you, your need to clip my wings and control me. Isn’t it enough that I married you? What about what I want? What about what I need? This isn’t all about you!’

      ‘I’m not trying to control you.’ Eyes now smouldering with anger, Zahir gazed back at her, his hard jaw line set at an unyielding angle. ‘But the security needs alone that are now required to ensure your safety would be impossible to maintain in some of the exotic locations where you have recently travelled.’

      ‘I don’t have security needs!’ Saffy flung at him in a bitterly aggrieved tone of fury. ‘It’s taken me five years to build my career and I didn’t get where I am by being difficult!’

      Zahir didn’t bat a single absurdly long eyelash. He stared steadily back at her, those twin black fringes round his remarkable eyes merely adding to the intensity of his scrutiny. ‘As my wife, you have security needs. Just as I could be a target, you could be as well. I will not allow your headstrong spirit to tempt you into taking unnecessary risks. This is not about your career. This is about you accepting that your new status will demand lifestyle changes. You are no longer Sapphire Marshall, you are a queen.’

      ‘I don’t want to be a queen!’ Saffy sobbed in a passionate rage at the logic he was firing at her. Memories were flooding back to her of long-buried quarrels during which she had raged while Zahir shot down her every argument with murderous logic and practicality. ‘You never told me that. I just thought I’d be your wife, your consort, your plus one or whatever you want to call it!’

      ‘The last queen was my mother, who died when my younger brother was born,’ Zahir commented grimly. ‘It is time you saw sense. You can’t have thought you could marry me and ignore who and what I am.’

      Saffy was so worked up she wanted to scream. Over the past week she had thought of many, many things, like dresses and wedding breakfasts and guest lists and babies, but not once had she pondered her future status in Maraban. In fact she hadn’t wanted to think about Maraban at all because once she had been very unhappy there.

      ‘I didn’t think about it,’ Saffy muttered in indignation, furious with him, wondering in a rage how on earth he had broken the news about the Desert Ice company and then contrived to roll over his indefensible interference in her career to put her on the defensive with the news that she was apparently a queen. ‘I don’t want to be a queen. I’m sure I’m not cut out for it. In fact I bet I’m totally unsuitable to be royal.’

      ‘With that attitude you probably will be,’ Zahir shot back at her with derision. ‘I think you tried harder at eighteen to fit in than you are willing to try now as an adult.’

      Saffy’s lush mouth dropped open as temper exploded in her like a grenade. ‘I was a doormat at eighteen, a total stupid doormat! I wanted to please you. I wanted to please your family. I was so busy trying to be something I’m not—and getting no thanks for it! I had no space to be me!’

      ‘Times have changed. Maraban has been transformed and brought into the twenty-first century. But I have changed as well,’ Zahir breathed on a taut warning note, his gaze burning gold in its force. ‘I will tell you now how things are and I won’t keep secrets from you again.’

      ‘Secrets?’ Saffy shot back at him jaggedly, entrapped