Duty Bound Desire: The Sheikh's Forced Marriage (Desert Desires Book 1) Read online

  Duty Bound Desire

  The Sheikh’s Forced Marriage

  Jennifer Jansen

  Copyright 2020

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away or reproduced in any way without the author’s consent Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For beautiful Yasmin.

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank you to Cathleen Ross. Your guidance has been invaluable.

  Chapter 1

  Nabil slammed his laptop shut. Exhaling loudly, he stood and wandered over to the large window. ‘I’ll do it,’ he said, even though everything within him was fighting to stop him having to marry – again.

  His advisor and close friend, Mahir, nodded, a slight smile on his face. ‘I believe this is the right decision, ya Sayed. Your father will expect this of you. And Princess Yasmin is perfect for the role,’ he added.

  Nabil nodded. At least the princess, being raised in a royal house, would know the rules of such an arrangement and not expect love, for he had none to give. ‘Start making arrangements for Qaman. I want to arrive early morning tomorrow. I want this thing moved quickly.’

  ‘As does her father, King Hussein. He’s very keen to make this official.’ Mahir bowed as he turned to leave the room. ‘Consider it done, ya Sayed. I’ll be back in an hour with all the details.’

  Nabil stalked back over to his oak wood desk. Sitting again, he began tapping his fingers almost furiously on the hard wood surface. This wasn’t how he wanted to find a wife, or even to find one at all truth be told, but circumstances being what they were…

  The clickety-clack of Yasmin Al Sayed’s heels on the marble floor were grating in her ears. She walked down the large corridor that led from the royal living quarters to the greeting area. Her hand gripped the cell phone which held the highly unusual and cryptic message from her father.

  Come to the formal greeting hall immediately. There is a very important guest I want you to meet. Dress appropriately.

  As Yasmin walked closer to the greeting hall, she could see her father. Next to him stood a man she didn’t recognise. This wasn’t one of her father’s associates. She could tell that because of the highly expensive, exquisitely tailored suit he was wearing which had the traditional sign of royalty in their region on one lapel – a gold eagle. Fear began to curl in her stomach. Something was wrong with this picture. He was much younger than the people her father usually met with. He looked vaguely familiar but Yasmin couldn’t quite pin point which royal house he belonged to.

  Yasmin examined him from afar. He was tall, taller than her father who was six foot two. Tall and dark.

  Without warning, Yasmin’s stomach began to flutter. Her palms had started sweating slightly. Her heart was beating faster than normal, all her nerve endings on high alert.

  Her father had promised her she would choose her own husband, wouldn’t be forced into a union unless she agreed. Surely he wouldn’t break that promise he had made to her many years ago?

  A man approached her as she entered. Yasser, her father’s assistant, bowed deeply before her. ‘Your Highness,’ he said as she entered the room. Then he turned to her father and bowed. ‘Everything is in place, Your Highness. Will there be anything else?’

  Yasmin watched as her father smiled slightly and nodded his head. ‘Thank you, Yasser,’ the king said, signalling his assistant to leave.

  Yasmin stood there. She looked at her father questioningly. Then over at the man standing with him.

  The man had turned as he saw her coming. He rose from his seat immediately and watched as Yasmin approached. Now he stood, his body, with its large frame seemed to dominate the room. He must have been in his early to mid-thirties Yasmin guessed. She could see him scanning her face. His eyes were like deep, dark pools. They seemed to know. Just know. Then those eyes dropped to slowly survey the rest of her. She was instantly angry at the chauvinistic gesture, but if she was honest with herself she was also thrilled to see the appreciation as his eyes came back up to meet hers again. He held her gaze for a few moments.

  ‘Daughter,’ her father said, ‘I’d like you to meet Nabil ben Nasser Al Saed Al Massoud, Crown Prince of Zashar.’

  Ah, that’s where she knew him from. The sheikh who had a fast and unexpected marriage and an even faster divorce under mysterious circumstances. What woman would leave a man who looked like this unless there was something else underneath the suave exterior? The papers didn’t do him justice, she thought. He was like one of the Greek sculptures, only more handsome. His shoulders were broad and he had long, strong legs. His skin was a beautiful bronze. He was tall with dark hair and a square jaw. He had a small scar on his left cheek which, instead of making him less attractive, only gave him a bit of a rough edge making him even more masculine. His eyes were a beautiful almond shape and as dark as the night. They were mesmerising.

  ‘Nabil, this is my daughter, and the only princess of Qaman, Yasmin.’

  Nabil began to walk closer to Yasmin. She held her breath. He didn’t take his eyes off hers and for a moment. Yasmin felt like she was hypnotised because she didn’t move, or rather, couldn’t move as Nabil held her captive in his strong, appreciative gaze.

  But this was no ordinary meeting of a foreign dignitary. As fear began to clog her throat, Yasmin couldn’t speak. She felt like she was being ambushed.

  As he closed the distance between them the air suddenly became thick. Yasmin breathed in deeply. She couldn’t describe what she was feeling. It was like he had some sort of energy flowing off him. Her body was sensing something her mind couldn’t describe. There was a tingling low in her belly. He was strong and confident. She felt out of her depth.

  As he closed the distance between them the air suddenly became thick. Yasmin breathed in deeply. This man before her exuded a type of power that came from generations or warriors used to getting their way. She knew right there and then she was now a pawn in this game of power.

  Her body was sensing something her mind couldn’t describe, completely at odds with her rationale. While he was solid with command, she felt like a canary trapped in a cage.

  Nabil held out a strong, bronzed hand. Yasmin’s body wasn’t listening to her brain because she didn’t move for a moment. Her eyes were glued to him. She surveyed him a few seconds before acknowledging his hand, knowing it would be considered insolent to pause any longer. Finally, she heard her father’s sharp intake of breath and she held out her hand to meet his. A slight, sexy smile played on Nabil’s lips. His full, almost teasing lips. He was clearly amused. Then he bent his head, brought her hand up to his mouth and planted a soft kiss on the back of it. She could feel the heat of the mouth she had just admired, and it tingled all the way down her spine. She drew in a quick breath which unfortunately made a slight sound. Enough for him to notice. His smile broadened just that little bit more as his eyes locked on hers again.

  ‘Yasmiiin,’ he drew out her name almost like an appreciative sigh. ‘It’s my absolute pleasure to meet you.’ Nabil’s voice was strong, deep and very masculine.

  Frowning, Yasmin looked up at him but said nothing for fear of saying something inappropriate, remembering her training – always be charming and welcoming. She immediately plastered a smile on her face and sweetly said, ‘Welcome to Qaman, Your Highness.’

  Why are you here? Came a scream from within her mind which reverberated through her body.

  Nabil just smiled but she wasn’t sure whether it was amusement or congeniality she could see on
his face. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

  King Hussein motioned with his hand and a butler appeared with a tray and some cool drinks. Yasmin waited until the prince had taken his then took her refreshing glass of water and tried to not down it in one go, her mouth was that dry.

  Her father the king quickly moved to usher the pair into the formal dining area with its massive table and carefully placed gold cutlery, reserved for visiting dignitaries. The room was huge and decorated with Qamani artwork. With the sun beaming in through the ceiling-high windows and falling on the artwork, it displayed its true magnificence.

  Once they were at the table, Nabil pulled out a chair for Yasmin, the gesture striking her as oddly intimate. There were servants whose job it was to do things like this.

  The table was already set with delicacies but Yasmin’s mouth was dry and her jaw tight with tension. Her father and the prince feasted on an assortment of mouth-watering sweets and strong Arabian coffee, typical Middle-Eastern style. It became clear to Yasmin that the Prince and her father knew each other better than she expected.

  All of a sudden, her father turned to her, his face suddenly very serious.

  ‘Yasmin, I asked you here today because there have been some developments.’

  ‘Developments? What developments?’ Yasmin furrowed her brows, her fingers curling into fists on her lap. She didn’t know what her father meant. What was he talking about? She waited.

  King Hussein took a deep breath. ‘Yasmin, it is time for you to marry.’

  Yasmin froze. She knew this was why she had been summoned but she didn’t want to believe it.

  ‘What do you mean ‘marry’?’ Yasmin rasped, finally finding her voice. Her heart was beginning to race. She could feel the moisture gathering on her palms, couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of her father’s mouth.

  She looked up into the face of the man who was her intended. His expression gave away nothing. Anger began to uncoil inside her.

  ‘It’s time you married, my daughter. This is why I have asked Prince Nabil to meet with us. Nabil is an excellent choice,’ King Hussein said, his chin held high.

  Choice? She thought. Whose choice? Certainly not mine.

  ‘I know this is a little unexpected,’ her father said before she cut him off.

  ‘Unexpected!’ Her voice was louder than she intended. Nabil’s eyes were on her the entre time. ‘This is unbelievable. There’s never been any talk of me marrying, or more accurately having to marry at this stage of my life.’

  King Hussein placed his hands together and looked at his daughter. His eyes softened. He exhaled. Yasmin realised they hadn’t really talked as father and daughter in a long time. She was surprised at the suddenness of it all.

  ‘Many things are resting on this marriage, Yasmin, including political and economic stability between Qaman and our neighbour Zashar.’ He moved his chair closer to his daughter.

  ‘I understand that you are surprised by this,’ Nabil’s deep, commanding voice cut through the air, ‘but surely you understand as the only princess of the House of Al Sayed, you will suit the position very nicely. One such as yourself, raised in a respected royal house and well trained in royal protocol is much sought after. And I am an Al Massoud, crown prince, soon to be king. We would suit each other very well.’

  Yasmin’s stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Then Yasmin felt her father’s hand over hers. ‘We must keep the bloodlines going, and to merge our two great families will mean greater co-operation between our nations and greater peace and prosperity for all our people. You have a duty, Yasmin. You must understand that, having been brought up in a royal house.’

  ‘Bloodlines are for horses,’ she bit out nervously. ‘You promised me, father.’

  She heard Nabil stir across the table. She looked over at him. He was sitting stone faced. She couldn’t work out whether he had planned this marriage with her father or if he had been given only slightly more notice than her. His face gave away nothing.

  She let out a ragged breath, turned back to her father. Yasmin could feel her heart beating faster. Her stomach began churning. This was all too fast, too unexpected and she wasn’t prepared at all. Despite knowing she had her royal duties, she had always been led to believe her marital decisions would be her own. Had this actually been the case, or had she just assumed this?

  ‘Father....I’m only twenty-three. I don’t want to marry yet. I haven’t even finished specialising. I’ve just completed the first part of my medical course. You know eventually I want to specialise in obstetrics. And the prince and I have just met. I don’t know anything about him.’

  But she had heard of him.

  The Crown Prince of Zashar had hit the headlines in the past couple of years with a bang. He had a reputation as a fierce champion of equality in his country, one which he had dragged into the 21st Century with his modern ideas. He’d had one short-lived marriage and of course, there were rumours circulating about why it had ended, but Yasmin wasn’t sure what to believe. She only knew he was quoted as saying that marriage didn’t agree with him so this intended marriage was a surprise for more than one reason. Again she wondered if he had been somehow pushed into this too.

  ‘Father, no,’ Yasmin made another attempt to change her father’s mind. ‘I’m not ready. And more importantly, I don’t want to marry a complete stranger.’

  She knew this was an insult to the prince but at that moment Yasmin was so shocked she could barely think straight. Why was this happening?

  Her attempts seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, however.

  ‘Yasmin, a situation has arisen and....well…’ Her father’s voice trailed off.

  ‘If I may,’ Nabil interrupted. He turned his sharp eyes onto Yasmin. She felt as if he could see right through her. ‘I understand your reluctance, princess,’ he said, his voice as smooth as velvet. ‘However, this marriage will benefit everyone.’ Then, turning to her father he said, ‘Your Highness, allow me some time to speak with your daughter.’

  King Hussein paused for a moment. Then he nodded. ‘Certainly. That is a good idea.’

  Yasmin wanted to protest but the look her father gave her stopped her short. There was something in his eyes though. Something she couldn’t quite define in that moment.

  ‘Yasmin, you and Nabil should get to know each other a little. He will be here for a few days to attend some all-important trade meetings in our country. We will be trade partners… among other things,’ the king continued.

  Oh God. This can’t be happening.

  Nabil stood then, his large frame once again dominating the room. He bowed to Yasmin’s father as he turned and left the room. She watched as this foreign prince then walked over to her side of the table, strong broad shoulders moving towards her. ‘Why don’t we walk a little outside in your magnificent gardens,’ he suggested, his hand gesturing to the outdoors.

  This man, this strong, handsome man, made her nervous. He was so confident, obviously experienced in life. She felt completely out of her depth. But she had been trained to be a good hostess from the time she was young, and that’s the persona she would be using. Plus, some fresh air would definitely help right now, she reasoned.

  Yasmin rose on unsteady legs. She held onto the table for a second hoping Nabil wouldn’t notice, but his gaze went straight to her hand and then shot back up to her eyes. He made to come over but that was the last thing Yasmin wanted. She let go of the table and began to move towards the door. He followed close behind.

  As they moved out into the fresh air, Yasmin was relieved. She hadn’t realised how stifling she felt inside the palace. She watched him study her features even more, and it seemed he definitely liked what he saw. She watched his eyes scan her thick dark hair that had fallen across her shoulders. His gaze dropped to her lips. Then his eyes dropped again, to survey her curves. Suddenly he took in a deep breath in and straightened as if shaking himself out of a daydream. It looked to Yasmin like he was weighing
up the benefits of this marriage – for him.

  Yasmin was very aware of him close to her. He was so masculine and so comfortable in his body. He oozed a raw male sexuality. Yasmin was not experienced with men the way Nabil obviously was with women. She had been quite sheltered for most of her life. She didn’t quite know how to be sexually confident in her own body. So they walked in silence for a while, Yasmin feeling awkward.

  ‘So, Yasmiiin,’ he drawled, his eyes still on her, ‘I assume you want to discuss the conditions of our marriage?’

  And just like that she was ripped out of her thoughts and back to the dire situation she was in.

  Conditions of our marriage? That was certainly not what she was expecting to hear. But then again, why not? It was why they were both there. And she, like the good daughter she was, would be offering herself for the taking, albeit under duress. But she wouldn’t be bossed around and if she were to enter into this marriage, it would be as an equal, not a partner in silent subservience.

  Yasmin tried to remain calm and hoped her voice wouldn’t betray her.

  ‘Prince Nabil, this is just our first meeting. I would like to have some time to get to know you and the chance to choose.’

  Nabil looked over at her with an incredulous look in his eyes. Then his entire face turned very serious. ‘Yasmin, I think it only fair to tell you now that I’m not into playing games. The decision has been made.’

  Yasmin stopped, looked up at him, her heart racing. She had to raise her head quite a bit as he stood close to her and was over 6 foot tall, 6’3 she guessed, as opposed to her 5’7. She was beginning to feel the anger rising up inside her. The fear began to creep in too.

  ‘I….there’s…’ she stopped trying. Her mind was spinning, her emotions high, and now, her fear overpowering.

  He raised an eyebrow ever so slightly but remained composed.

  ‘You really have no idea about the seriousness of the situation and how little your choice matters in this case have you?’ he said.