"Well, I assume that because the sheik cannot have the woman he wants above all else, then no one else will do. So sex with Farasha will suffice."
Katharine turned her large eyes to Bashasha and then turned away.
"I see," Katharine said, resigned. But her heart thudded unnaturally as she thought of the sheik keeping himself from all but one of the women because he could not have her.
Katharine resumed her harem duties, which included bathing but also helping Bashasha. Together, they performed small details such as counting blankets, sorting towels, and refilling essential oils. Bashasha had not seemed surprised at Katharine's return to her duties. She enjoyed her role as bather, especially since she spent long periods of time alone and did not see the sheik. Her Arabic had improved greatly, and Bashasha schooled her in the long afternoons and nights when their work was complete.
Katharine relished her time alone and could be found walking in the small gardens connected to the harem. The gardens were filled with palm and date trees and lush plants, as well as two small fountains. Since the sun beat down upon the white buildings surrounding the garden, it grew very hot during the daytime, so she bound up her hair when she was able to walk quietly through the area.
She explored the gardens alone in the afternoon when most of the household took to napping. One day, while exploring on her own, she walked through a curved doorway and heard someone coming toward her.
"Hello?" she asked, and almost crashed into the sheik.
"Princess," he said quietly. He stood with a book in his hand.
"I didn't mean to disturb you," she told him. She watched him lay the book across the bench and stand before her.
"You do disturb me," he said darkly. His eyes wandered over the length of her. He had seen her from afar on several occasions, but had kept his distance. When she was close like this and when he was alone with her, he wanted nothing more than to touch her. He wanted her underneath him, taking his cock inside her body.
His fingers brushed across her collarbone and touched her neck. He couldn't stop himself.
"Are you unwell?" she asked him, as her heartbeat sped faster at his touch. Why did he have to touch her? She could stand anything but his warmth upon her body. His fingers were like magic, warming her with his touch.
"Yes," he said, as his fingers threaded into her hair, finding her ivory combs and pulling them out.
"Don't," she said. She shook her head and his fingers tangled into her hair.
He stood directly before her as he breathed in the jasmine sent of her silken tresses.
"Why jasmine?" he asked, as his hands moved over her shoulders.
"Because," she started to say something, but she couldn't finish. She couldn't tell him the reason.
"Because?" he asked, his mouth touching her neck and his hand sliding down to her breasts.
"Because you like it," she said, so quietly that he barely heard her.
His mouth captured hers and his tongue delved into it again and again. She could feel his goatee rub against her soft skin. His hands moved down to her bottom to cup it and pull her into his hardened cock. He could feel his cock bounce at the closeness of her. Katharine could only feel as his hands wandered the length of her body and she became the woman he wanted. She was lost until he suddenly pushed her away from him.
She stared up at his handsome, bronzed face and he looked back at her.
"Keep your distance, princess. Lest you get raped again," he added. She saw him clench his jaw. Nervously, she turned and left him.
Mohammed, Sheik of Arabia, stood in his small private garden holding the two small ivory combs tightly.
***
Katharine's thoughts whirled around her. She had to leave this place. She was losing her sanity. Given half the chance, she would have begged the sheik to take her in the garden, not caring who could have been watching. She was mad! She was losing her mind in this palace, where no one back home knew she existed.
Worse than her mind, she was giving into her lustful wants and desires with no promises of tomorrow. She wanted him and nothing else seemed to matter. Other men had wanted her in England, and she had never cared. She knew it was something about the sheik himself that made her want him. He was powerful and sensual and he looked at her as no other man had. It was a look that would consume and burn.
She stumbled into the harem, not sure of her thoughts. It was so dark inside. Even with the low candles, she realized it was too dark. The last thing she remembered was something hitting her head as she fell to the floor.
Yasmeen smiled as she tossed aside the large urn she had used to attack the girl.
"Little whore. You made too many enemies," she said to Katharine’s helpless, limp figure on the floor. She watched as the two men bundled up the girl to take her away.
Chapter 7