Virgin Seduction

Rotund and flushed with the effects of good food and good living, the Sheik was still an imposing presence. His snow-white hair and beard and magnificent hawk's beak of a nose gave him an almost biblical majesty, and even though he didn't speak loudly, his voice, welling from the depths of a barrel chest, sounded to Cade like the voice of doom.

'Young man, there was a time, not so long ago, when I could have had you executed on the spot. Explain yourself.'

A strangled cry from Leila tugged at Cade's attention, but it was only a flicker, and only for an instant. All of his attention was focused on her father.

Explain himself? Under the circumstances it seemed to him a more than reasonable, even generous demand. Certainly more than he'd expected.

Explain himself. Well. Your Highness, I was just getting ready for bed, minding my own business, when your daughter, here, came knocking at my door, and the next thing I knew, she was throwing herself into my arms. Did I invite her? No sir, I did not. And… where did she get the idea to come to my chambers, Your Highness? You mean, did I entice her? Lead her on? Well…no sir, I sure didn't… unless you count kissing her earlier this evening until she couldn 't stand up…

Cade sighed inwardly. To explain seemed cowardly to him, and heartless, somehow. His mouth, opened to release the words that were poised on the tip of his tongue, firmly closed.

He looked at Leila, standing so straight and still beside her father. Her face was pale but proud, even with eyes lowered and veiled by tear-clumped lashes. He cleared his throat and determinedly began. 'Your Highness, this is not what you think. Your daughter-' He glanced at her again, and saw her eyes go wide and stare straight into his…saw her lips part and her cheeks flood with pink. She reminded him of a doe he'd seen once, caught in a hunter's snare. And again he felt that awful sensation in his midsection, as if his heart had just been speared, and had landed with a thud in the bottom of his belly.

Every rational thought went out of his head. His mind was chaos, a whirlwind of remorse and shame. This was his fault. He'd humiliated this girl-and she was a girl. She was a princess and he'd humiliated her. She was almost certainly a virgin, and he'd kissed her frivolously, toyed with her emotions. And now, to make matters even worse, her humiliation was made public, since all at once the hallway around them seemed filled with people-bodyguards, servants, even Leila's mother with her servants, come to see what all the commotion was about. The damage he'd done to Leila-and to his own agenda, of course-seemed irreparable. Unless…

Just as suddenly as the chaos had come, now calm and certainty descended upon him. There was only one way to fix the mess he'd created. Cade knew precisely what he had to do.

He drew himself up, and with as much dignity as he could muster with his hair standing on end and without benefit of shirt, jacket and tie, looked Leila's father straight in the eye. 'Sheik Ahmed, this may seem sudden, but I have fallen in love with your daughter.' Ignoring Leila's shocked gasp, he rushed on. 'I want to marry her.' The gasps had found echoes throughout the gathering; he ignored those, too, as well as the sheik's sudden stiffening. 'I respectfully ask your permission-'

'My permission!' Sheik Ahmed's voice shook. His wife laid a cautioning hand on his arm, and he whirled, blindly thrusting Leila toward her.

'Take her,' he bellowed. 'Take her away-and the rest of you-' he waved his arms, making shooing motions at the crowd. 'Leave us!' Without waiting for his orders to be obeyed, he turned back to Cade, black eyes glittering with rage.

' You. You would marry my daughter?' With extreme effort, the sheik seemed to draw himself together and spoke more calmly though with no less anger. 'Mr. Gallagher, I have made you a guest in my house, and you thank me by inflicting this gravest of injuries upon my family.'

Cade frowned. This was not going quite the way he'd expected. 'That was not-'

' Silence! And now, to that injury you would add insult? Do you think that I would allow my daughter to marry you-an infidel, an unbeliever, a man without honor?' There was a pause, during which Cade could have sworn the sheik grew in height at least a foot before his very eyes. And then, in a magnificent bellow, 'I would sooner see her dishonored!'

Having delivered his exit line, Sheik Ahmed whirled-then spoiled the effect of it somewhat by jerking back to Cade. 'You will leave my house,' he growled, stabbing the air in his direction with a bejeweled finger. 'Tomorrow- as early as can be arranged.' Once more he turned, and stalked off down the now-deserted hallway, footsteps ringing on the tile floor.

Protected by an icy shell of calm he knew must be shock, Cade watched until the massive doors at the end of the hallway had closed upon the sheik's broad back. Then he retreated into his own chamber and carefully pulled the door shut after him.

On the whole, he thought as the quivery aftereffects of shock hit him, that had gone pretty well. At least he hadn't been executed on the spot.

* * *

Like a gracefully pensive statue, Leila stood in steamy and fragrant warmth and gazed at the familiar back of the woman who knelt beside the bath. Gazed at, but did not really see. Her mind was empty, as bereft of thoughts as her eyes were of tears. She did not dare allow herself to think, not even so much as a single thought; if she did, she feared the anger, humiliation and despair would simply overwhelm her.

Salma Hadi, her mother's most trusted servant and once upon a time Leila's own nanny, hummed nervously as she fussed over the bathwater, adding scent and soap bubbles, swishing the water with her fingers to test the temperature. The tune she hummed was simple and familiar, a children's play song she had sung to Leila long, long ago. Leila found it oddly soothing.

Pushing stiffly to her feet, Salma turned to smile up at her. Holding out her hand, she spoke in Arabic, the language of her youth. 'Ah, yes, now it is good. Come, my treasured child, let me help you undress.'

Mindlessly, Leila obeyed the familiar voice, lifting her hair to allow access to the fastenings of her gown. She stood, docile and numb, while well-remembered hands gently removed her clothing and twisted her hair into a pile atop her head, securing it there with jeweled clips and combs. Naked, she allowed herself to be taken by the hand and led to the edge of the bath.

'There, my sweet…gently…gently,' Salma crooned. 'The water will sooth you…take away the pain.'

Leila gave her former nanny a puzzled look. Pain? What pain? Was Salma getting old? Losing her mind? The pain she felt was all inside, deep in her heart, and it would take much more than a hot bubble bath to make it go away.

'Thank you,' she murmured as she lowered herself into the fragrant suds, for she had been taught never to take loyal servants for granted. 'This does feel good.' Closing her eyes, she lay back with a sigh and stretched herself languidly, like a sleepy cat. How good it felt to relax, after such a tumultuous day. How good it would be if she could simply go to sleep right here, and not have to think…

'Princess? Are you-'

There was concern, and something else-embarrassment, perhaps?-in Salma's voice. Leila opened her eyes. 'Yes, Salma, what is it?'

The servant's round face was flushed, and her eyes glistened with kindness. 'Princess, I have some oil-it is very soothing. When you have finished-'

'Oil?' Leila frowned. 'What kind of oil? What for?'

Salma touched Leila's cheek with gentle fingers. 'My little one…it is normal for a woman to have pain, the first time she…is with a man. But after a hot bath…the soothing oil…it goes away quickly-' She stopped, for Leila was shaking her head wildly. She continued in distress, 'Princess, it is all right-' But Leila went on shaking her head, and brushing aside Salma's anxious fingers, covered her face with her hands.

Her face, her whole body burned with shame; even the bathwater felt cool on her fevered skin. Oh, how she wished she could just…sink to the bottom of the tub and disappear forever.

'Princess-what is it?' Salma's voice had risen with alarm. Lifting her hands heavenward, she uttered a rapid, wailing prayer, which she almost immediately interrupted to ask in a despairing whisper, 'Oh, tell me -did he harm you? Are you injured, truly? Tell me-what has he-'