The Sheikh's Rebellious Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  TITLE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  EPILOGUE

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  COPYRIGHT

  The Sheikh's Rebellious Bride

  By

  Cara Albany

  The Qazhar Sheikhs : Book Three

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  Cara

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sheikh Tariq Al Kharif gazed around the rows of spectators at the Qazhar Polo Club and concluded, yet again, that she must be hiding from him.

  Where was Zoe?

  He was sure she had been avoiding him since arriving in Qazhar only a few days before to organize this polo event.

  Tariq let his mind drift back to the past. Had he really been so cruel? Had he left so much chaos behind, that she would never forgive him? Surely the wounds had healed over the last two years.

  Tariq sighed and shook his head slowly. Maybe she hadn't forgiven him, after all. Tariq felt his throat tighten at the thought of Zoe's final stern, unforgiving stare. There had been too much pain. Too much passion. He wondered why he was so desperate to see her after all the pain they'd caused each other.

  Beside him, his brother Raz looked quizzically at Tariq. "What's the problem, Tariq?" Raz asked. "Looking for someone?"

  Tariq drained the glass of mineral water. "Just admiring the turnout."

  "It's impressive," Raz agreed. "Polo's more popular than I thought."

  Tariq grinned at Raz. "I know you prefer other kinds of pleasure. Or you used to until Ella came along." Tariq punched Raz playfully on the shoulder. "Now you've been tamed."

  Raz frowned. "I have not."

  "Of course you have. She's an amazing woman. You're lucky to have her as a wife."

  Raz sighed contentedly. "I suppose you're right. Speaking of which, where has she gotten to," he said peering back into the open, tented pavilion area behind them.

  Tariq looked along the lines of seats that bordered the wide green polo playing field. He had to admire this place. Under the starlit sky, the huge expanse of green grass seemed strangely unreal. The floodlights that shone down from tall metallic towers on the four corners of the field merely made the contrast with the desert beyond the club even more striking. There was a roar of approval from the hundreds of spectators. Out in the field, horse-backed riders raced after the bright white ball, swinging their long wooden mallets, skillfully controlling their horses.

  Tariq's eyes narrowed appreciatively. It was a good contest. The two teams were evenly matched. Although this was only an exhibition match between two regional Qazhar teams, there was a competitive edge to it. Even if it was only for charity.

  "There she is," Raz said with audible pleasure in his voice. He stretched out his arms to welcome the woman who had recently become his wife.

  Tariq watched Ella shimmy her way between the seated spectators. She had some snack food on a little wooden platter. Judging by the expression on her face the tiny snacks had met with her approval. There weren't many left on the platter.

  "Ella," Raz exclaimed. "I wondered where you had disappeared to."

  Ella Al Kharif, the American woman who had wed Tariq's brother only weeks before, shrugged her shoulders as she came to her husband's side, letting him wrap his arm around her waist. She lifted a small pastry from the platter and teased Raz's mouth with it. He snapped at it and laughed. Tariq couldn't help smiling. They were a happy couple. There was no doubting that.

  A roar from the crowd signaled that one of the riders out in the field had scored a goal.

  Ella glanced out at the field. "Did something happen?" she said casually.

  Raz squeezed her closer to him. "Someone scored," he said as if it were obvious.

  Ella's mouth creased into a sly grin. She and Raz exchanged an unspoken word, and Tariq quickly averted his eyes. If this was what it meant to be married, then he was glad that he was the last of the three Al Kharif brothers to be holding out. Ever since Raz and Ella had married, they had been all over each other. Even in public.

  Ella had changed Raz so much that Tariq barely recognized his brother. Gone was the bad boy womanizer of recent years. Now, Raz only had eyes for one woman. Their whirlwind romance had amazed everyone in the Al Kharif family. But, there was no denying how much they both loved each other.

  Tariq forced himself to look out at the horses racing around, chasing the tiny white ball. Tariq suddenly wanted to be out there, on his mount, reins held tight, his thighs clenched tight against the sides of the horse. The game thrilled Tariq. It was a strong test of a man's ability to control a horse, and to compete with other men.

  He glanced at the scoreboard. There wasn't much time left to wait. He'd be up next for the second match of the evening. That would be the real contest, against the military riders. Those riders were the true test of a polo player's mettle. Tariq figured he was good enough to go up against the experienced military types. He'd find out soon enough.

  "I don't know how you can do that, Tariq," Ella said pointing at the riders. "It looks so dangerous."

  Tariq smiled. "I can think of a few things that are more dangerous," he joked.

  Raz squinted at Tariq. "Your time will come, Tariq," he said.

  "Aliyah said that exact same thing to me this morning," Tariq replied.

  Ella raised her glass in a mock toasting gesture. "If there's one thing your sister knows, it's when someone is ripe for marriage," she said mischievously. She glanced at Raz. "Isn't that right, my love," she said.

  Raz grinned and gazed deeply into Ella's eyes. There was true love there, Tariq thought.

  Raz turned to Tariq. "Why has your face turned so pale, Tariq?" Raz asked.

  "There's nothing wrong with my face," Tariq replied.

  Ella grinned. "It's as white as my dress," she observed, glancing down at the elegant white gown she was wearing.

  Tariq felt a rush of mild panic rising inside himself. Time to make his excuses.

  He glanced at the scoreboard. "I need to be getting ready. The next game will be starting soon. I need to go to the stable and get the horse ready."

  Ella looked at Raz. "See what I mean. The slightest mention of marriage and he's off," she said.

  Tariq put his glass down on the table next to him. "I'll leave you two to enjoy the rest of the game."

  Then he strode quickly away, relief washing over him. He made his way through the crowds, exchanging pleasantries with many of the dignitaries who had turned out for the special event.

  For that was what it really was. A special event. Organized and arranged by a woman with whom he had enjoyed a wild, tempestuous liaison only two years before.

  Zoe Smith.

  The American woman who had turned Tariq's world upside down.

  And, the woman who seemed to be doing everything in her power to avoid meeting the man who had once broken her heart.

  ****

  The inside of the stables was a cool retreat, and she was t
hankful to be where she really belonged. The soft overhead lights shone down into the stall where the distressed horse twisted it's head back and forth.

  Zoe Smith lifted up the hind leg of the beautiful stallion and leaned back as the animal shifted in protest. She didn't want to get kicked in the head, but she knew her touch was gentle, that the horse would sense that Zoe wanted to help.

  "What do you think?" Zoe asked the young female veterinarian, whose name was Saira. The dark haired woman leaned forward, shifting the folds of her loose, dark gown to one side. She narrowed her eyes, examining the horse's leg. "It's difficult to say without further examination. Perhaps some tests. But, at first glance it looks like a strained tendon."

  Zoe nodded in agreement. "I concur," she said, realizing she sounded like a doctor in a surgery. In some senses, that was what she was. Zoe had studied to be a veterinarian before everything had changed; before she had been dragged into this mess. She forced those thoughts out of her head. No use going over all that again, she told herself for the thousandth time. She wasn't a vet; hadn't been one since she had been forced to take over her late father's business.

  Zoe released the horse's leg and let Saira hold it gently, pressing softly against the area of concern.

  Zoe stood upright. "I don't think there's much chance this horse will be taking part in the next polo match. Don't you agree?"

  Saira nodded slowly and glanced up at Zoe. "This is not going to be very popular," she said. Zoe thought the young woman looked worried.

  "Why not?"

  Saira straightened and sighed. "This is the sheikh's favorite horse," she said.

  "Which one?" Zoe asked. Something twisted in her middle because she already knew the answer to that question.

  Saira frowned. "Sheikh Tariq Al Kharif," she replied with a hint of respect in her voice.

  Zoe set her face into as tight a mask as she could muster. She wondered if the young veterinarian had noticed Zoe's reaction. Because, on hearing that name, Zoe had felt her stomach tumble and her chest tighten. Zoe tightened her fists and leaned back against the wooden frame of the stall.

  Tariq!

  "Are you feeling unwell?" Saira asked.

  Zoe swallowed and shook her head. "I'm fine. I've probably been working too hard. And, the heat." Zoe waved a hand in front of her face.

  "Perhaps you need some fresh air," Saira offered. "Evenings in Qazhar can be notoriously hot this time of the year."

  "I suppose that's why they play polo in the evening," Zoe said trying to move the focus of attention away from herself. "It makes sense when you think about it," she said.

  Saira busied herself for a while longer with the horse's leg. After wrapping some white strapping around the horse's leg, Saira completed her examination, lifting her small bag from the earth covered stall floor.

  "Perhaps we can go outside for some fresh air," Saira suggested.

  "No," Zoe said quickly. Too quickly she realized, because Saira's eyes widened. "I think I'll stay here just a little while longer."

  Saira looked puzzled. Zoe knew she'd have to explain. "I am a trained veterinarian," Zoe said to Saira.

  "Really?" the other woman said surprised.

  "I trained back in the States. Before I took over my father's business. In fact, I used to be the go-to gal for everything horse related," she said trying to joke.

  But, Saira seemed serious for a long moment. "And you gave up being a veterinarian to run a business?" Saira asked appearing perplexed that anyone would do such a thing.

  "It's a long story," Zoe said with a casual wave of her hand. She smiled at Saira. "I appreciate your help."

  "It's what I'm here for," Saira replied. Zoe wondered if she had inadvertently stepped over some boundary, some protocol. After all, Zoe was only a visitor in Qazhar. Once this polo event was over and done with, she would be on a plane out of the kingdom as fast as possible. At least she would if he didn't agree, she reminded herself.

  Saira stepped out of the stall, and Zoe followed. "I will arrange for the horse to be attended to later, once all the guests have departed. Someone will have to tell the sheikh about his horse," Saira said looking visibly worried.

  "I can do that," Zoe said sharply.

  Saira nodded without reply.

  Zoe smiled at Saira and folded her arms. She suddenly wanted to be alone. Again.

  Saira seemed to sense this and bade Zoe farewell. Zoe watched the petite young woman make her way out through the high archway entrance. From outside the stables, Zoe could hear the appreciative roar of the spectators, the voice of the match commentator through the loudspeakers.

  Zoe was glad that everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves. That was why she was here, after all. As the owner of the company which arranged these exhibition polo events all around the globe, it was her responsibility to make sure that everything went as smoothly as possible. The special expertise of her father's company had been valued by everyone in the tight-knit community of polo professionals for many years. It had been her father's legacy to Zoe.

  She closed the stall behind her and gazed at Tariq's horse. It was a very special looking stallion. Every bit as unique as the man who had expected to ride upon it in the upcoming second match of the evening.

  Zoe wondered how he would react once he found out. Of course, he had other mounts in the stable. That went without saying. The sheikh and his riches ensured there was always an uninterrupted supply of treasured horses at his disposal.

  Just like he'd had an endless supply of female acquaintances, Zoe thought bitterly. She gritted her teeth at the thought of Tariq with all those women. She was sure that hadn't changed in the two years since they'd been together.

  Zoe sighed and asked herself just how long she'd have to wait.

  Zoe had come to the stables in search of a refuge. Some place where she could keep a low profile. At least, until the polo matches were complete. Then she could perhaps mingle with some of the guests.

  But, the real reason she'd come to the stable was that she knew she could speak to Tariq.

  Alone.

  What she wanted to ask him could not be spoken of in front of a crowd of strangers. For one thing, she had no idea how he would react. Tariq had always had a fierce temper; had always been easy to provoke into anger as well as passion.

  Passion.

  Zoe thought about those nights so long ago when she and Tariq had been wrapped in each others arm. Sensual nights of bone-melting, soul-igniting passion that had set her heart on fire. She had never forgotten how she had felt while with Tariq. The memories just would not shift, no matter how hard she had worked to drive them away.

  Zoe walked along the narrow passageway between the stalls. Horses shifted impatiently, the sounds from outside making the animals restive. The excitement of the crowd contrasted with the peace of the stables, causing the horses to become edgy and nervous.

  Just like Zoe.

  Edgy and nervous. Who wouldn't be in these circumstances?

  Because, Zoe Smith was waiting for Sheikh Tariq Al Kharif to come to the stables so that she could ask him something she never thought she'd ever ask anyone. Something that two years ago would have seemed unthinkable, but now appeared to be her only option.

  When Tariq finally arrived in the stables, Zoe was going to propose a marriage to the sheikh she had once rejected.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tariq paused at the high, arched entrance to the stables and peered into the dimly lit interior. From behind him, there was a ripple of applause and the commentator's announcement of yet another goal.

  Tariq stepped into the stable and called out. There was no reply. He made his way toward his horse's stall.

  Arriving at the stall, he pulled open the door and halted suddenly. He gazed down and cursed at the sight of the bandage wrapped around the horse's leg. What had happened?

  He bent down and examined the horse's injured leg. Why hadn't anyone told him about this? He stood up and let out an exasperated brea
th. This was going to ruin everything, he thought. He'd have to use an alternate mount.

  Tariq went around and stroked the side of the horse's head, whispering gently. Animal and man had a close bond, forged through countless hours of practice on the polo field. The horse calmed on hearing his master's soft, authoritative tones.

  Then he heard a voice from behind him.

  "Hello, Tariq."

  He froze, disbelief clutching at his gut.

  Her voice.

  At last.

  Tariq turned and there she was.

  Zoe.

  She stood at the open door to the stall, gazing up at him. Tariq had to restrain a gasp of disbelief. He was rooted to the spot, utterly speechless.

  He could have said to himself he'd forgotten how beautiful Zoe was, but that wouldn't have been true. Tariq could never have forgotten those green eyes, that thick blonde hair, those luscious curves that filled the blue dress. How could he ever have lost the memory of that oval face, the moist, full lips and that delicious way that one side of her mouth creased slightly with a permanent mischievous smile. A myriad of memories tumbled into his mind, and every one of them involved himself entwined with Zoe.

  Tariq quickly ran his eyes down Zoe's figure, all the way down her long legs, to the modest heels she was wearing. Glancing back into her eyes, he saw a flicker of uncertainty on her face.

  Her gaze was fixed on Tariq, awaiting his reply, but also gauging his response to her appearance.

  Tariq took a step forward, and Zoe moved to one side, allowing him to step out of the stall. Tariq closed the stall behind him. He felt as if in a daze, expecting Zoe to evaporate like a mirage.

  "It's nice to see you, Tariq," Zoe said. Tariq noticed a quiver in her voice. She was nervous and doing her utmost to hide that fact, he thought.

  "Zoe. What a surprise," he said, knowing that it didn't sound at all convincing.

  A smile appeared on Zoe's face, every bit as forced as Tariq's efforts at appearing surprised.