EXCERPT ONE
The candle lights flickered low and the music began. It was a beautiful piece by George Frederick Handel, a Trio Sonata in B Minor. Katharine listened to the music and closed her eyes. The violin, flute, and continuo were in perfect sync with each other as the music moved and flowed through the room.  She stood with James, sipping a glass of champagne, while she watched her guests mingle. A hundred people filled the room, and dozens more stood or danced in clusters and groups around the food tables. Champagne was in abundance. She had lost count how many people she had greeted and smiled at. She suddenly felt lightheaded as the champagne drizzled into her veins. The trio sonata continued playing, and its beauty was mesmerizing.

When she opened her eyes and looked across the room, she glimpsed him across the room and knew she had drunk too much. He had walked behind a group of people standing at the far end of the room. Kat almost dropped her flute of champagne.

“Darling, what is it?” James whispered as he felt her lean into him.

“The heat. It’s the heat,” she answered. “I need some fresh air.”

“Of course. I’ll accompany you,” he said.

“No, you should stay. I’ll only be a few minutes,” she replied. She moved her dress hem aside as she moved gracefully through the room.

Kat placed her champagne glass on a table and walked outside the ballroom and into the night. A few couples were outside talking and they greeted her. Her brother Charles and his wife, Sarah, smiled at her, and Charles kissed her in greeting.

She smiled to them and then turned away. She was going mad! She brushed a hand across her forehead and flushed cheeks.

Katharine looked out over the gardens that she knew so well. Earlier that day, she had stood next to James, thinking of the stallion and wanting to give him a proud name. She had always loved Greek mythology so she had thought of Ares, the god of war. But just then, she had seen him. Either that or her imagination was going wild.

She saw at first the figure behind the large group of people at the far end of the ballroom. He was dressed in a deep blue coat and waistcoat with snug knee-length breeches, low-heeled shoes and silk stockings. His hair was unpowdered but clubbed with a black ribbon, and he appeared to be clean-shaven. He was well-dressed, and the cut of the coat showed off his muscled back and the width of his shoulders.

The breeches did well to expose his muscled legs, and his dark shoes had no buckles on them.

But as much as tried to fit into this world, he did not. He was like a wild tiger in a small cage. He belonged in a hot world of sand and sandalwood incense, not in a ballroom filled with dandies and champagne.

He belonged in a world of sandstorms and harems, where the world smelled of incense and jasmine.

Kat shook her head. This was madness. This was what happened to women who had no clean grasp on reality. She wandered into a farthest part of the gardens, where the willow trees had been planted long ago. The birch and ash trees grew there as well.

Katharine was particularly fond of elm trees. The willow tree branches dipped low, almost to the ground, and she stepped inside one. She looked down at her hands and saw that they were shaking. She closed her eyes and remembered his goatee as his mouth touched hers. She remembered his hands on her, inside of her, and taking her that night after the party.

The air was cold, and her breath foamed out as she exhaled. The willow tree branches encircled her and protected her as she sighed. She must let it go. She must forget him. This can only drive me mad; she told herself for the thousandth time.

She touched the diamonds at her throat and tried to calm herself. Silly, she said to herself. She breathed out and turned to go back to the party.

But then, her quick intake of breath and the pounding of her heart inside her chest happened instantaneously. She shook her head and closed her eyes.

“You aren’t real,” she breathed out in disbelief, her breath foaming in the cold air.

“Oh, I’m real enough,” he mocked her.

His clothes were European as she had seen in the ballroom and his hair was pulled back without a wig. But his golden body belied the fact that he was not European and never would be. He would never fit in and would never want to. He had come here for one reason.

“I don’t understand. How are you here?” Katharine asked him, as her fantasy and nightmare collided together. She pressed a hand to her exposed chest as her heart raced.

“The horse, your Arabian, was my Arabian. I bred and sold him to your father,” Mohammed explained.

“Did you know when you sold it to him that it was for me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. His dark eyes met her blue ones.

Mohammed watched her intake of breath, which caused her breasts to swell over her neckline.

He had watched her that night, not able to take his eyes from her.  He had many dealings with Europeans because of the Arabian horses he bred. The horses were renowned for their beautiful bone structure and stamina, but he had never accompanied the horses once they were sold. He had always dealt with the foreigners, accepted their money and had his men transport the horses. This time was different, however. This time everything was different.

Her father had written to Mohammed, inquiring upon the price of an Arabian stallion. Edward wrote in detail about his spirited daughter, explaining that the horse must be the same, intelligent and spirited.  Mohammed had accompanied the horse to England to bring back what was his by Arab law.

He had watched her stand near the English dandies at the ball and smile into their faces. He had watched a young blonde dandy rest his hand on Katharine’s waist and clenched his own fist in anger. She had used her body well to trap men into wanting what they couldn’t have. Poor Majeed had found out the hard way. His own brother was enchanted by the little falcon! Majeed should have known better.

And now, after coming across the sea, he was here to claim her again. There would be no negotiations and no bargains; she would be his.

Unaware of his thoughts, Katharine shook her head, confused. Her diamond earrings glistened in the dark.

“Why are you here?”

Mohammed stepped toward her.

“You know exactly why I’m here. I’m here to take back what’s mine,” he told her.

He closed the small gap between them and jerked her into his arms.

“No,” was all she managed to say before his mouth took hers. He was clean-shaven and well-groomed, which only made him more dangerous. She knew what was underneath the fancy clothes.

 

EXCERPT TWO
“Why are you here?”

Mohammed stepped toward her.

“You know exactly why I’m here. I’m here to take back what’s mine,” he told her.

He closed the small gap between them and jerked her into his arms.

“No,” was all she managed to say before his mouth took hers. He was clean-shaven and well-groomed, which only made him more dangerous. She knew what was underneath the fancy clothes.

His one hand held her body to his while his other hand went to the back of her head. He pulled out the pins that held her hair in place, causing a golden waterfall down her back.

“Please,” she said, struggling against him. Katharine tried to move away from him but couldn’t. His mouth moved over hers, but the kiss wasn’t sweet. His mouth took hers until she tasted blood. His tongue delved against hers and his leg came between hers as he pushed her back into the trunk of the willow tree.

“You are mine, princess,” he breathed into her neck before he lightly bit into it. His bite caused goose pimples to break out on her arms, and she shivered.

“No, things are different. This is a different place,” she gasped, trying so hard to fight the urge to give into him.

“You and I are the same, princess.”

Katharine shivered in the cold and at his words.

“No, we aren’t,” she argued.

Mohammed held her body against the tree.

“I have not come this far to play games,” he said. His hand moved to her low-cut gown and moved his fingers inside. Without tearing her dress, he pushed her breasts up and moved the dress down. He took one tight nipple into his warm mouth. She whimpered.

“You dress like a whore here. Then play the whore for me,” he said. His fingers threaded into her hair as his mouth touched her other nipple, which was tight and wanting the attention. She moaned in spite of herself.

She felt herself come alive as she arched into him. She couldn’t help it.

“Moan for me, princess. I remember how you like it,” he whispered in her ear. Katharine blushed in shame. She wanted him so badly.

His hand wrapped around her long, blonde hair and pulled down on it so her chin jerked up. His mouth touched her sensitive neck and he pressed into her body. He was hard for her. Ready to take her.

“If I fucked you right here, would you even try and stop me?” he asked cruelly.

Katharine almost cried out. She wanted him to lift up the hem of her dress. She would have given her soul to feel his thick cock deep inside her. She could feel her juices damp inside her.

“Please,” Katharine said as she tried to fight her conflicting emotions.

Mohammed watched her face and saw her conflict. He released her, pushing her away from him, and she stumbled. She pulled her bodice to cover herself and tried to pull her hair back, but her hands were shaking.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she told him. She was trying hard not to cry in front of him. “You have to go,” she continued.

“I am not leaving England without you,” Mohammed told her, before he left her alone underneath the willow tree.

Katharine stood staring after him, incredulous. Had this proud, intelligent man really come all the way from Arabia to bring her back with him?

Her heart shuddered at the thought. What were the lengths he would go to keep her? And what would he do when the betrothal was announced tonight?

Kat trembled at the thought. But suddenly, deep down inside, she felt alive again.

 

EXCERPT THREE
She moved to the edge of her bed and flicked up her skirts, revealing her legs up to the thighs. Silk stockings encased her legs and two garters kept each stocking from falling down. She sighed, leaning back. She wanted to undress and have this night be done. Everything had been moving smoothly forward until he had shown up. She had been willing to marry and forget him, but now that he was here, she wanted him all the more.

She flung herself backward onto the bed.

“Damn him,” she said.

“Damn who?” Mohammed asked.

Katharine whipped up, her hair spilling all around her as she peered into the darkness of her room. He was leaning insolently against her armoire, hidden and silent until now.

“You are mad to be here! Why are you here?” Katharine’s dress billowed out she stood up to face him.

“My little princess, so perfect and unspoilt,” he spoke lowly and then cursed in Arabic.

Kat blanched at the word he called her. She knew it. He had called her a whore.

“You have no right to call me that!” she spoke to him, her breasts heaving in anger. His dark eyes watched her creamy globes as they slipped over the bodice.

“Perhaps no right. But don’t pretend to be something you are not, Katharine,” he said.

“I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head.

Mohammed watched her throat and longed to bury his mouth in it.

“Don’t act the lady, when all you really are is a cheap whore,” he continued. Katharine slapped him hard, and the sound echoed in the room.

In a second, Mohammed pinned her arms behind her back, picked her up and threw her onto the bed. Before she could fight back, his weight settled on top of her as he pinned her down wrists above her head.

“Little slut,” he purred into her ear, holding her hands in one hand as his other delved underneath her silk skirts. Her silk-encased legs were mouth-watering, with small blue garters adorned with rosettes.

“You know I’ve dreamt about you day and night,” he said huskily in her ear. “You haunt me.”

Katharine shook her head.

“No. I don’t want anything from you.” Her heart raced as his weight settled on top of her. She could feel her body coming to life.

“So, it seems. While I scour the whole of Arabia looking for you after Yasmeen had you kidnapped, I find out you are spreading your legs for half of England,” he looked down into her sea-colored eyes.

“What?” she asked him, shocked.

“Yes. Yasmeen has been returned to her family in disgrace. But I shouldn’t have bothered. Perhaps I should bring you back to Arabia to satisfy myself and then my brothers when I tire of you.”

Katharine struggled underneath him.

“I never meant to deceive Majeed. Please believe me. He and Rana were nothing but good to me.”

“No, you need do nothing, princess. Men just flock to your honey,” he sneered.

 

EXCERPT Four
Mohammed began to pull down her skirts, but suddenly stopped.  His hands moved to her belly, which was slightly rounded, and then he cursed. Mohammed stood up, dragging Katharine with him.

“What are you doing?” She was insulted at his treatment of her.

“When were you going to tell me, Katharine?” he demanded. His voice and face were unflinching.

“What are you talking about?” she asked. He could see confusion in her eyes.

Mohammed waited a moment and then spoke.

“You’re pregnant,” he told her.

Katharine stared at him, unable to realize the truth, and then it hit her. She’d had morning sickness, strange dreams, and was sleepy all the time. She was pregnant.

“Is it mine?” he asked.

Katharine looked shocked and then struck him. “You bastard!” she hissed. “You took my virginity, set out to make me your whore, and then you accuse me of infidelity? You, with a harem full of women!”

Mohammed knew she was telling the truth. The child was his. “Katharine,” he began.

“No! You take advantage of me, accuse me of deceiving you, and then regret it?” she continued, pulling away from him.

“If you think the next sheik of Arabia is going to be raised by some dandy Englishman, you are mad!” he said, willing himself not to drag her before a clergyman that very night.

“How can you stop me?” she flung back at him.

“I’ve obtained a special license to marry. I have it from England,” he said. Mohammed buttoned himself up as he spoke to her.

Katharine was shocked. Marriage? To Mohammed?

“We can do this two ways. So, you decide which one you want, princess. We marry and raise our child together, as it is supposed to be. And you come to me willingly,” he said simply.

“Or?” she asked, and swallowed nervously.

“You defy me and try to marry your Englishman. And then I swear before Allah that I will kidnap you and this time – this time – there will be no escape for you. We will be man and wife and before Allah and Arabia. You will be mine, body and soul.”

With that, Mohammed stalked to the door.

“So, you decide, Katharine,” he said, as he unlocked the door and walked away.