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

  Then she did something that really rocked him back on his heels. She leapt forward, taking hold of Tariq's shoulders and, stretching her head up, gave him an air kiss. The scent of Zoe's perfume burst into Tariq's awareness. He almost gasped at the intensity of the perfume, but it sent a jolt of welcome delight coursing through his nervous system.

  Tariq leaned forward and tried to lay his hand on one of Zoe's shoulders, but she was too quick for him. With a sudden jerk, she let go of him and took a couple of steps back.

  Zoe thrust her hands behind her back, almost like a girl younger than her twenty-four years. She squinted at Tariq as if waiting for him to say something.

  Finally, Tariq found his voice. "I knew you were here, but I couldn't find you." Right now, the truth seemed like the best choice. There was no use pretending that he hadn't been thinking of her the whole evening. In fact, he hadn't stopped thinking about her since she'd arrived in Qazhar, a few days before.

  Zoe's nose crinkled. "Of course, you knew I was here, Tariq. But, I've been so busy, I couldn't take time off for anything. Not even to see an old friend."

  Tariq felt himself bristle instinctively at that description. "Old friend?" he queried raising a brow.

  Zoe nodded. Tariq saw her shift nervously on the edges of her shoes. She glanced at the horse in the stall. "I was waiting for you to come to the stables."

  "Really?" he asked.

  Zoe nodded. "Someone had to break the news to you about your prized stallion."

  Tariq peered over the edge of the stall and drew in a sharp breath. "What happened?"

  "I think he got startled."

  "By what?" Tariq demanded.

  He turned and looked at Zoe. He was aware that his stare was intimidating at times. People had commented on it. But, it would be nothing new to Zoe. She already knew what Tariq was like when he was displeased. He could be demanding. He knew that. But, Zoe had always been willing to stand her ground when it came to arguments.

  He saw her jaw tighten, and he felt something shift in his middle. There was that determination, he thought. That familiar refusal to bend to the wishes of others.

  Except that, when it came to love-making she had submitted many times; she had succumbed to his forceful, sensual attentions. Tariq restrained a smile of triumph at that memory.

  "When I tried to take a look at him, he got startled," Zoe explained.

  "So, it was you," Tariq replied aware that it sounded like an accusation.

  Zoe's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't me that made him jump. When I looked into the stall, he already looked like he had hurt his leg."

  Tariq frowned. "But, you're not sure," he said.

  Zoe squinted. "What's important is that the equestrian vet came to see him. She took care of him and said he'll be fine."

  Tariq sighed. "This horse is unique," he said leaning a hand on the stall.

  "I'm sure you'll cope, Tariq," Zoe said. "You always used to tell me what a wonderful rider you were." Her brow quirked at him, and he saw that she was trying to tease him.

  Tariq took a step forward. Zoe held her ground, her chin raised defiantly, her gaze locked on Tariq's face. "I would have thought you would have a good memory of my physical skills, Zoe," he said.

  Tariq felt a momentary satisfaction when he saw Zoe swallow. This close to her, he could see the pulse throbbing on her long neck.

  Zoe turned away from Tariq and started to walk slowly along the passageway between the stalls.

  "Why didn't you contact me?" Tariq asked suddenly.

  Zoe glanced at him, seemingly surprised by the suddenness of the question. "I was busy," she replied curtly.

  "Too busy for a very close friend?" Tariq asked.

  "You know why I didn't contact you, Tariq," she said.

  "It has been a long time, Zoe." He ran his gaze down her body. "Too long." Once again the simple act of looking at her caused something to harden and shift. He was startled by the visceral way his body was reacting to this woman who had meant so much to him. Who still meant so much to him.

  Tariq saw Zoe's eyes narrow. There was troubling thought in those eyes. She seemed to be preoccupied with something.

  "How have you been, Tariq?" she asked, changing the subject.

  Tariq waved a dismissive hand and grinned. "You know. The life of a sheikh is a terribly difficult one," he said. He rolled his gaze at her, making sure she understood he wasn't being serious.

  Zoe's eyes brightened, and she laughed suddenly. The sound of her laughter echoed in the curious quiet of the stables. He heard some of the horses shifting in their stalls.

  Tariq paused, and Zoe halted, facing him. There was an earnestness in her gaze, and he was suddenly sure that she was harboring some kind of secret, or even an urgent question.

  "Tell me about your life, Zoe. What happened to you?"

  There was a sudden pain in her eyes. Tariq already knew the story of how her father, Jack, had died after a brief illness; how Zoe had been forced to take over the business which her father had built up over many years. That business had started as a modest corporate hospitality organization, but Zoe's father had had a passion for polo.

  So, he had created a company which specialized in arranging polo events on the sport's elite global circuit. From Argentina to North America to England and here, in the many states close to Qazhar, Zoe's father had become the only man who could properly organize those special polo events. His contacts in that elite world had always ensured a memorable turnout that enhanced everyone's involvement.

  Zoe had been Jack's only child. Zoe's mother had died when Zoe was young. Being so close to the whole experience of the international polo circuit, Zoe had grown up with a passion for horses. For that reason, she had trained to be an equestrian vet. It was ironic therefore that although she now spent so much time around horses, she had very few opportunities to practice her skills as a vet.

  Zoe's gaze lowered and her head dipped. Seizing the opportunity, Tariq quickly touched the tip of a finger to her chin and lifted her face up toward him. Zoe didn't resist. Her eyes met his gaze, and once again he saw the depth of thought and feeling in those shimmering green pools.

  "It's complicated," Zoe said after a pause.

  "Tell me. About you."

  Zoe shifted awkwardly. "But you have to go back out there for the next match," she said. It occurred to him that she looked as if she were trying to find an excuse to end their conversation. If she had been planning to say something to him, it appeared she might have had a change of heart.

  Feeling her soft skin against his fingertip tempted Tariq to move closer to Zoe, but he could see the warring emotions in her eyes.

  "I suppose you know all about my father," Zoe said softly.

  Tariq nodded and let her continue.

  "I'm in charge of everything, now," she said. "I have been for over a year." She sighed. "And, it has been one helluva year, I can tell you."

  "But, successful, I assume?" Tariq asked.

  Zoe's green eyes peered into Tariq's. He took his hand away from her face. It seemed suddenly like the wrong thing to do, especially when faced with such confusion, such uncertainty. He hadn't expected this from Zoe. After the way they had parted, the acrimony, the accusations, he had anticipated she would want nothing to do with him. But, right now, there was no hint of their former troubles.

  "Success is relative," Zoe said.

  "What do you mean?"

  Zoe breathed out slowly and seemed to be struggling to find the right words. Finally, she spoke: "After my father died, you know I inherited the business. There was no-one else to take it over. And, it meant so much to my father that the last thing I could ever think of was to sell it off or close it down. He wouldn't have wanted that." Zoe scowled. "Not at all," she said emphatically.

  Tariq frowned. Where was she going with this?

  "It was his legacy," Zoe said. "He spent most of his life building it up. It wasn't something I could just throw away."

  "What ab
out being an equestrian vet?" Tariq asked.

  "What about it?" Zoe said sarcastically. "I still get to deal with horses, but strictly from the business side of things. It's not the same."

  Tariq peered into Zoe's eyes, searching for an explanation. Just what was the problem?

  "So, things are going well, right?" Tariq asked.

  Zoe shook her head. "Not at all," she said. "I've made a painful discovery, Tariq," she said.

  "What's that?"

  Zoe gazed, wide-eyed straight at Tariq. "That I have no head for business, nor any passion for the thing. The only passion I have left is to make sure my father's legacy continues."

  Tariq savored the way she said passion. It rolled off her tongue in the sweetest way imaginable. "A very noble thing," Tariq replied trying to disguise the effect her words had had on him.

  Zoe nodded, and there was a curious look in her eyes, as if she were pleased that he had said that. "It is the right thing to do. I have to respect my father and what he created. He left it to me, and I have to do whatever I can to ensure that it carries on."

  "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Zoe," Tariq said.

  Again, she looked at him as if he had managed to cross one more hurdle. There was a glint of approval in her gaze.

  "So, why do I get the feeling you have a problem, Zoe?" Tariq asked directly.

  Zoe seemed taken aback by the way he had cut to the chase. She paused and then sighed, her shoulders sinking almost with an admission of defeat. "Well, that's the thing, Tariq. I do have a problem. A pretty big one."

  Tariq felt a stab of worry in his gut. Zoe sounded frightened. Her voice was filled with sheer, unadulterated dread. Something terrible had happened, and Tariq desperately needed to know.

  He reached out and laid a gentle hand on Zoe's arm.

  "What is it, Zoe? You must tell me," he demanded.

  "It has to do with the company," she said in a flat voice that had more than a tinge of resignation about it. "There are financial problems. Big ones."

  "How big?"

  "Big enough to finish the company off," Zoe said. Her voice was filled with pain. Tariq wanted so hard to take that pain away by any means at his disposal.

  He frowned. "How can that be?"

  "Unknown to anyone, my father had a serious amount of outstanding loans. I didn't know about them until recently. But, they've been called in. I believe there are some people behind all of this. And they want the business for the prestige it has, the connections with certain wealthy individuals."

  "That's ridiculous," Tariq said. "If it's a question of money, then I can do something..."

  "No!" Zoe cut in sharply. Her voice was icy, and her eyes had a sudden fury in them that shocked Tariq. He withdrew his hand from her arm. "This isn't something that can be fixed with money," Zoe said emphatically. "It's about more than money. And I will not be in debt to anyone."

  Tariq tightened his lips, careful not provoke Zoe any further. Her eyes blazed with a passionate fury. He saw a fierceness in her that recalled their own previous unions. After a few moments, she calmed. "I'm sorry, Tariq. It's just been a difficult time. The thought of losing the legacy my father handed to me is just unbearable."

  Tariq nodded. He could see that she was being tortured by this worry.

  "So, what's the solution?" Tariq asked. "Why are you telling me this?"

  Zoe's eyes flashed and she gazed at him. "Don't you remember?"

  Tariq frowned. "Remember what?"

  "What you said to me the last time we were together," Zoe replied.

  Tariq racked his brains to recall what Zoe could be talking about. Tariq's mind went back to the way his love affair with Zoe had ended.

  He remembered the way she had stormed out of the luxury hotel room in London. They'd argued, as usual. But, for some reason, this last disagreement had been particularly nasty. His last image of Zoe had been of her storming out of the room, bag in hand, hair completely disheveled, screaming at the top of her voice that she never wanted to see him again.

  He'd known it had been serious and he'd raced after her, catching her at the lifts. While she had waited he had tried everything to persuade her to stay. But, she had a mind of her own. That had always been one thing he'd loved about her, above all else.

  As the lift doors had closed he had uttered one last sentence. Something he had never said to anyone else.

  Ever.

  The recollection of those words made a chill race up his spine.

  Tariq looked at Zoe. He could tell that she knew he had remembered what he had said to her. There was a slight grin of satisfaction on her lips.

  Zoe raised one querying brow and said nothing.

  Tariq frowned at her. "Are you serious?"

  Zoe nodded, maintaining her determined silence.

  Tariq took a few steps back and ran a hand through his dark hair. The temperature inside the stables seemed to have risen suddenly.

  Tariq turned and stared at Zoe. "Is that what this is all about?"

  Zoe took a step closer to him, her eyes steady, her jaw firm. She took a deep breath and then spoke. "It was a promise, Tariq," she said slowly.

  Their eyes were locked on each other, a challenge accepted, a battle commenced. This was a matter of honor, personal integrity. That was something that was in Tariq's DNA. He had been raised to be a man of his word. It was that simple. A sheikh who broke his promises was no kind of man at all.

  And, here was this demanding, utterly beautiful American woman asking him if he was willing to keep his promise. She wasn't just asking him. Zoe was testing him.

  Tariq's mind drifted back to that moment and the words that had spilled out of him, the declaration that had been wrenched from his heart. As he recalled it, he couldn't help but smile. He looked down at Zoe. "So, you want me to keep my word?"

  "That's what I came to ask you," she said.

  "And this will solve your problem?" he asked.

  Zoe nodded.

  Tariq shook his head, almost disbelieving that this was happening. "Very well. Ask me your question," he instructed her.

  Zoe's face paled slightly as if she hadn't expected him to agree so quickly.

  They faced each other like two warriors caught in an unending battle.

  When Zoe spoke her voice was firm and clear. "The last time we saw each other you said that if I ever got into trouble, that you promised you would rescue me from harm. Make me safe. Protect me."

  Tariq nodded, knowing that he had indeed said those words.

  Zoe continued: "You promised you would marry me. Didn't you?"

  There was a long pause. Tariq drew in a deep breath and looked own at Zoe.

  Had he made that promise?

  Of course he had. He remembered making it; had never forgotten uttering those words.

  Tariq gazed down at Zoe, a curious mixture of deeply felt attraction and unease sweeping through his body.

  She looked so beautiful, he wanted to sweep her up in his arms and take possession of her lips, consume her entire being. But, he was held back by the intense trepidation that held him rigid, reluctant to respond.

  Tariq nodded. "I remember saying that. How could I forget?"

  "Then, I'm asking you to keep that promise," Zoe said.

  Tariq felt the floor shift beneath his feet. Every nerve in his body was vibrating, muscles tightening, his breath becoming shorter by the second. Why did he feel like this? His heart was thudding as he took a step forward, but Zoe matched his movement by taking one, hesitant step back. He frowned at her.

  "I need you, Tariq," Zoe said. "I need you to keep that promise. If you do that, then the company will be safe. You will be in a position to guarantee the finances and my father's legacy will continue," she said.

  Tariq's eyes narrowed. "And us?"

  Zoe swallowed nervously, her gaze determined. Defiant. "We will marry, as you promised. But, it will be strictly a marriage of convenience."

  Tariq felt his jaw drop open. This
woman had such gall, he thought. How could she stand there and demand that he marry her, just because he had blurted out a rash promise in a moment of utter madness?

  "What do you mean?" he demanded.

  "I will become your wife. For one year. And then, we can go our separate ways. You will have kept your promise to me and I will have preserved my father's legacy."

  Tariq sucked in a heavy breath, filling his lungs, feeling the maelstrom of emotion spinning inside. He glanced up at the roof of the stables, seeking guidance, straining to comprehend what was happening. Had she come all this way to make this demand of him? Was she making fun of him?

  Tariq gazed at Zoe. No. She was deadly serious. He could see that in those unwavering green eyes. There was such promise in that gaze, a deep well of passion he remembered from long ago. Could he keep such a promise? What would one year of marriage to Zoe be like? Images floated into his mind; passionate, irresistible visions that clawed at him, tempting him. By keeping his word, he would have Zoe to himself. He'd get a second chance to fix the mistakes that had tormented him these past two years. Wounds could be healed.

  Tariq sighed and narrowed his eyes. "If you are my wife, then you will be so in every way possible," he declared slowly and with heavy emphasis to make absolutely sure that she understood what he expected.

  Zoe's eyes blazed suddenly. In spite of himself, that fiery look merely ignited even more desire in his loins.

  "No! I will not do that. Those are my terms. I will be your wife in name only. In exchange for that, you get to keep your integrity. I think that's a fair exchange."

  "That's outrageous," he roared.

  "No more than you breaking a sacred promise, Tariq," she countered. "Am I worth that sacrifice?"

  Tariq sighed. She was partly right, of course. Even if no-one else knew about Tariq's promise to Zoe, he would know. It would torment him. He knew that.

  Tariq turned away from Zoe and paced the earth covered stable floor. He glanced at the horses in their stalls. Was he as trapped as those animals? Had Zoe used Tariq's promise to confine him like a broken stallion? He turned and gazed deep into her eyes. She met his gaze, still defiant, still determined. He had to admire her spirit. It must have taken a huge amount of courage to come here and do this.