The Sheikh's Impetuous Love-Slave Read Free Page A

‘we would treat them more hospitably if they waited upon an invitation.’
    Without really thinking what he was doing, wanting only to cow her, Khalid pulled the little dagger, which nestled in the hilt behind his scimitar, from his belt.

Chapter 2
    He intended only to free her, and was irked with himself for not having done so immediately, but as he advanced on her, Khalid found he was even more annoyed with Juliette than he’d realized. The defiance in those clear grey eyes of hers could not be ignored. Her face was gamine rather than beautiful, but the way she held herself, just exactly as he would himself under such circumstances, bold and proud, and the surprisingly lush curves of that taut body, roused in him more than just admiration. Desire, like a sharp flash of desert lightning, jolted through him. It didn’t occur to him that he might frighten her. He would have been appalled if it had, would have ceased immediately, but it simply did not. It was the sheer challenge of her, crying out to the innate conqueror in him, which made him raise the dagger higher.
    The blade winked cruelly, its edge gleaming in the reflection from the tiles. Spellbound, Juliette watched as he closed in on her, her heart beating wildly in her breast. Was he going to slay her? Was she going to die, bleed to death here on the carpet which had been her gift wrapping?
    Prince Khalid’s eyes, glittering like the blade, watched her from under hooded lids. They watched her like a hunter watches his prey. Mesmerizing. The blade was raised. Her blood ran cold, but she did not shrink away from it. She would not be mesmerized. Despite appearances, despite the steely blade and his remorseless eyes, she did not really believe he would kill her in cold blood. It was a test. She would not fail it. She would not!
    â€˜Do it,’ she said, her voice trembling but her gaze unwavering. ‘Do it, I dare you.’
    She trembled. He saw the instinctive flinch, the plea for mercy being bitten back and his admiration for her grew, completely subsuming his anger. With a movement so swift that it was over before she could even cry out, the dagger in Khalid’s hand arced through the air, slicing cleanly through the bonds around Juliette’s wrists, before continuing down, in a swooping hiss, to those at her ankles.
    With a startled cry she fell back, the blood rushing to her feet making her stumble. Her wrists were throbbing, the welts left by the bonds angry-looking. Juliette rubbed her aching wrists, eyeing him warily.
    He could not blame her. Forced upon him as she had been, she was nevertheless his guest. Honour decreed that he treat her with respect. A lesser man would have had no compunction in teaching her, in the age-old way of things, just how little control she had over her destiny. Khalid had no harem, nor any desire for one. Nor did he feel any need whatsoever to prove his power in such a way. At least….
    The more he looked at her, the more his body liked what he saw. He wanted to tame her. Knowing she would not be easily tamed made his desire increase, but stronger still was the knowledge, which came to him of a sudden, that he wanted her to submit of her own accord—not through fear, nor in order to barter for her freedom, but because she desired him. Confused by such atavistic emotions, realizing that his own physical desire was manifesting itself in a most uncomfortable and obvious way under his tunic, Khalid eyed his prisoner uncertainly.
    â€˜What do you intend to do with me?’ Juliette asked, backing away from him. He was so tall. Too tall. And really, the way he was looking at her—as if he would devour her. The very idea of it made her go first hot then cold. Fierce as he was, Prince Khalid was doing something to her insides that was making her want, quite contrarily, to ignore the impulse to flee. She was not accustomed to being looked at in such a way, with such interest, such intent. It