The Sheikh's Lost Bride - completed

Chapter Eleven

A strong hand clamped on her upper arm and was hauled back sharply. Furious, she spun around, hand raised to be caught in his other hand, before she made contact, pulled hard against him, breathing heavy, and eyes blazing. "What.... what you just did was despicable!" She yelled. She never yelled, and she never ever made a fool of herself. Always in control. He was taking that away from her.

"Calm down," he soothed.

"Calm down," she repeated strangled and began to struggle against his hold. "Let me go! Now!" She barked, cheeks burning. Instead, she was hauled harder against him, held against his frame.

"Yes, calm down," his arm clamped around her, rubbing her back. Hands free she crunched his robe tightly.

"Why can't you leave me alone?" She asked softly, breathing uneven.

"Why cannot you admit you are not this Liza Mason?" He came back just as softly.

Taking deep breaths, she fought for control. "I am her," she barely got out, dropping her forehead forward onto his chest.

"Where were you seven years ago?" Dark spots began to dance in front of her eyes, followed by flashes of white, greedy fingers ripping at her, tearing her flesh. "Liza!" His voice whirled through her head as she grew slack, feeling dizzy, light headed, and passing out into darkness.

Cursing Tahir held her up. A dead weight, he repositioned his body to compensate. Bending down, he swept her up into his arms. She was out cold. Damn. He strode away, taking her back to the villa, where he laid her down on the folds of the bed. She looked so pale, and lost in the bed.

"What do you mean he sent you back?" Malika paced her office as Anastasia sat quietly in her chair.

The princess shook her head. "I did not think it was a good idea to just turn up. He was very welcoming and warm as usual, but he did not want me there." She released a sigh, tucking hair behind her ear. "I have booked a flight back home. I just wanted to thank you for your generosity of opening your home to me."

Stopping Malika spun around, her full caftan swirling around her. Long, black hair rippling down her back, as she tapped a long painted finger nail against her lips. "Perhaps it would be best. Everything has been delayed. I will send for you as soon as the ball is organised."

Standing, the princess crossed over and hugged the ruling head, then departed. One didn't mention the strange woman at the resort, who had disappeared. Not to be seen again as she walked through the resort. Staff were everywhere, yet no fair skinned, chestnut hair beauty that had gleamed under the sunlight.

Even took a photo of her and what? Sent it to Tahir? Warning him? How else did he get there so fast, meeting her in the entrance courtyard? She had doubts about making a surprise visit. And she had been right, going by his reaction of sending her straight back to the palace by helicopter, the very same day she had arrived.

Hadn't his first choice of a wife had been a westerner? A money grabbing harlot, Malika had described her, yet she was never brought up. Just disappeared, never to be seen again. What she had heard Tahir had kept her out of the public eye, until the grand event.

There was even a big wedding, where she didn't turn up. Her heart ached for him. She had been through such heartache. Had he also lost the love of his life as she had. She liked Tahir, but wasn't really sure, she wanted him. However, her family was beginning to add pressure.

Twenty-seven, unmarried, concerned them deeply.

Placing a cool flannel across her forehead, Tahir eased back, reaching for his ringing phone, glancing at the name. Malika. He wanted to ignore the call, but didn't want to deal with the fallout afterwards. Usually she was even tempered, yet ignoring her request, weren't advisable.