Chapter One
Paige Gower walked slowly and nervously across the tarmac of the small, private airfield just outside New York. The cold night wind blew in her face.
October.
She drew her long coat around her body and steadied herself. Her heels sounded sharply on the tarmac's hard surface. She lifted her chin, determined to hide her nerves. Her loose blonde hair swept across her face. She tried, unsuccessfully to keep it under control.
This would all be over soon, she told herself. All she had to do was go through with the agreement. And then she would be free.
Of him.
In the near distance, by the lights of the huge open hanger, she saw the private jet.
His jet.
Razim Al Kharif would be inside there. Waiting.
Like a caged animal. Just like always.
Waiting for her. She figured he'd be sizing her up. Trying to decided when to make his entrance.
She thought about the endless battles with him. The demands. The disagreements.
It would be over soon, she told herself.
For a moment she was surprised when she realized that the twin engines were still running. The sound was a high-pitched whine that tortured her hearing. She asked herself why the engines hadn't been turned off. Surely Razim wasn't planning on leaving. There were too many details to confirm for him to even consider making a quick exit.
She looked around. There was no sign of a limousine. She would have expected there to be one. To race her and Razim off somewhere where they could be alone to sign the documents.
Their divorce papers.
Even as she said that to herself, she felt there was something unreal about it. It had been a year. Just as they'd both agreed. And, she had kept her side of the bargain. She'd visited Qazhar regularly, maintaining the illusion of a happily married wife to one of the most powerful sheikhs in Qazhar.
And now it was all about to end.
Just as he'd promised.
Paige had almost reached the jet. Suddenly, the engines abruptly shut off, creating a sudden, heavy silence.
She halted as she saw the jet's door open and small steps unfold. Light spilled out from inside the jet.
Paige had waited at the private VIP lounge area which was exclusively reserved for very special people. Very rich people.
And Razim certainly fitted both those descriptions. Special and very rich.
He was one of the richest sheikhs in Qazhar, along with the many family members of that particular extended tribe. And, it went without saying that he was important. He never stopped telling people just how important he was. How noble his family was. Their traditions. Their status.
Now that he was the head of his branch of the family tree, he made sure the whole world knew just how significant that was.
Of course, that was why Paige had married him.
Correction.
It was why Razim had taken Paige as a wife. Because, she knew that their marriage had been nothing but an arrangement. It had been born out of convenience.
For Razim's benefit. And for hers, she admitted. The arrangement had been mutually satisfying.
He'd needed a wife in order to succeed and become head of his family, after the sudden death of his father.
He'd required a wife. And quickly.
And it was convenient that Paige and Razim had been in a relationship at just the right time. A stormy relationship, it had to be said. One that probably would have blown itself out with turbulent and exquisite emotion if they'd given it time.
When events had taken their course, and Razim had found himself needing a marriage of convenience, Paige had found herself viewed as being suddenly very useful. Not disposable, like so many of Razim's conquests.
She was sure if it hadn't have been for the need to marry, Paige would become just another of Razim's many former lovers. There had been plenty of those, Paige reminded herself.
Before she knew what had happened, Razim had proposed to Paige, but with some serious strings attached. He'd explained to her why he needed to wed, and that the marriage would be for only one year. During that year, Paige would be required to portray herself as the perfect wife for the sheikh.
In return?
Paige smiled to herself as she thought about the staggering amount of money Razim had offered. Of course, she'd turned down the money. A cash settlement seemed somehow distasteful.
Instead, she'd negotiated an arrangement whereby he would finance her design company for years to come. He'd been happy to agree and then they'd married.
Now, the time had come to annul the marriage. They would go their separate ways. Razim had satisfied the conditions of his family succession. He would have no need for Paige. He'd be free to remarry a Qazhar woman of his own choosing.
And Paige?
She would move on.
Why did that thought trouble her, just like it had these past few weeks? Surely she was ready to start again, she told herself. Paige had told herself that plenty of times. It was just that, somehow, she still hadn't quite convinced herself that it was what she wanted.
She drew her attention back to the present. Still, no-one had appeared at the jet's open door. When the jet had landed and taxied to the hanger, she had been given instructions to make her way to the hanger, which was tucked away in a quiet corner of the small airport.
Paige frowned, feeling suddenly impatient and took a few steps closer to the sleek, expensive looking plane. Still, no-one had emerged from the doorway. She wondered what she was expected to do. This wasn't turning out the way she'd anticipated. But then again, Razim Al Kharif was an unpredictable man given to flashes of impulsive emotion.
A man who enjoyed making unreasonable demands. In and out of the bedroom.
Did he expect Paige to just walk into his trap? Because that was what it was beginning to feel like.
Paige glanced through one of the small windows. Then, she saw a figure move. A familiar figure dressed in a dark suit.
Razim.
Paige felt a hard bundle of nerves twist in her middle. Just the thought of seeing him again made her legs feel inexplicably and inconveniently weak. It had been three months since they'd last been together. She'd been here, in New York that whole time. And Razim had remained in Qazhar. No doubt he'd had a good explanation for his wife's absence from the massive palace on the outskirts of Qazhar city. In any case, no-one would dare question the sheikh. His privacy was aggressively guarded.
Paige moved slowly toward the open door. The fact that Razim hadn't yet emerged didn't surprise Paige. Every day, every moment with Razim was like a battle of wills. That was one reason why she'd insisted on coming back to New York these past few weeks. Anything to get relief from the tensions which had built up between her and Razim.
Now she was a few feet away from the open door. She halted and folded her arms, watching intently for any sign of Razim.
She started to move closer and then froze.
Razim emerged, looking like a dark prince of the desert. In spite of herself, Paige gasped. Her arms fell to her sides and she drew in a deep breath of the cold night air.
Razim halted in the doorway, one foot planted on the top step.
He smiled at Paige. "There's my wife," he growled in a deep voice. His smile broadened. "You came," he announced as if he couldn't quite believe it.
Paige tilted her head. "Of course I came. This is an important night."
His brows furrowed. "Our anniversary," he said. She knew he was trying to joke with her.
"If you like to think of it like that," she replied.
Paige swallowed and briefly took in the sight of the sheikh.
Her husband. For the moment, at least.
He was tall and broad shouldered. He lifted his slightly stubbled chin defiantly and the gaze of his jet black eyes was unflinching. The suit, handmade, clung to his body like a second skin. The white shirt, open at the collar, revealed dark chest hair and temptingly olive skin.
Razim smiled at her, as if waiting for her to say something. The evenness of his features still seemed miraculous to Paige. They were the kind of features you'd expect of a man who belonged in the desert, astride a stallion, with his tribesmen following. High cheekbones, ridged brows and the firm slash of a powerful nose ensured that no woman would be able to take their eyes off this particular sheikh. His full lips were twisted into a sardonic, confident smile.
His looks were captivating. Undeniably handsome.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well what? You know why I'm here."
He nodded. She wondered why he seemed suddenly confident. "To sign papers," he stated in a casual voice. For a moment, she felt a snap of irritation at his attitude. He wasn't taking any of this seriously. That just annoyed her. Didn't he appreciate what she'd done for him? That she'd given him his position of power?
She folded her arms and glared at him. "Do you have them?" she asked.
In response, he gestured toward the interior of the jet. "They're here," he said casually.
Paige shook her head. "I'm not coming in there with you," she said sharply.
"Why not?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Do I have to explain?"
He thought for a moment and then nodded. "Of course," he said. "You don't trust me. How could I forget?"
He didn't seem in the least bit offended by that, she observed. "Should I?" she asked.
"I'm your husband," he replied and tilted his head.
"You won't be by tomorrow," Paige reminded him.
He merely smiled and tilted his head casually. Paige's jaw tightened and she gritted her teeth. Why had she thought this was going to be easy?
"I thought we were going to go somewhere private and sign the divorce papers?" she asked.
He glanced inside the jet. "This is about as private as you'll get," he said.
Paige sighed impatiently. "I prefer to go somewhere neutral."
He frowned. "This isn't some kind of end of war signing," he observed.
She quirked a brow at him. "It felt like a war sometimes, Razim," she said. "You have to admit that."
He ignored her reply and stepped down onto the tarmac. He strode toward her, his body moving with a lithe and easy grace. How could she have forgotten how incredibly sexy he was, especially now that he was up close? She caught a hint of his scent as the wind blew it in her direction. Memories flickered into her awareness.
Memories of nights in Qazhar. She forced them to the back of her mind. This was business. Pure and simple.
"Paige," he said and extended his arms. Paige felt her body freeze, every muscle tightening. "Aren't you pleased to see me?"
Paige lowered her head and peered at him. "Can't we just do what we agreed? And then we can both go our separate ways."
She saw his features flinch, as if he felt the harshness of her words. He glanced into the darkness as a small jet roared along the runway and lifted up into the dark sky.
"You look cold," he observed.
Was he talking about her appearance or her demeanor toward him?
"It's warmer in the jet," he said. "We can deal with things once you're in there."
Paige peered into Razim's eyes, searching for the truth. His dark gaze was steady. Blank and unreadable. She thought a moment. There was too much at stake to continue this charade out here on the tarmac. Razim was being his usual stubborn self. They could stand here all night.
She sighed heavily. "Okay. Lead the way," she said glancing toward the jet.
He looked suddenly triumphant. He extended an arm, perhaps hoping she would take hold of him. But she resisted that offer. His mouth turned down as he admitted temporary defeat.
She walked alongside him. This was what it was like to be with him, she reflected. Constant testing. Constant war.
He paused at the entrance to the jet. "After you, Paige," he said.
She met his gaze. Always the gentleman, she told herself. At least on the surface. Beneath the astonishing looks and the perfect manners lurked a dangerous animal. One which had driven her to intense heights of pleasure. But those days were gone, now, she told herself.
Forever.
She stepped into the jet, feeling sudden familiarity. She'd been inside it many times during their many trips abroad. She saw the eight leather seats and long sofa. At the far end of the narrow plane there was a door. It was closed but she knew what lay behind it. The small bedroom. Memories tumbled unbidden into her mind of what she'd done there with Razim. She was sure her cheeks had colored at those thoughts. Luckily he was standing behind her.
On the left, there was a long table set between two facing seats. On the table she saw papers spread out. Her heart leaped in her chest at the sight of the papers.
Then he was next to her. "Please, Paige. Take a seat."
She went to the table and glanced down. On the top of the front sheet she saw two words.
FINAL DIVORCE.
Her throat tightened.
She sat down on the seat and Razim took his place opposite her. "Would you like a drink?" he asked.
She shook her head impatiently. "No, Razim," she replied. "I'd just like to sign those papers and get going."
Razim leaned to one side, resting his arm on the side of the seat. He cleared his throat. She thought he looked nervous or uncertain, which was highly unusual for Razim. His gaze lowered to the papers on the table and then back up at her.
"There's something I have to tell you, Paige," he stated in an even voice.
She said nothing, merely matching his steady gaze.
"I'm afraid we won't be signing anything," he declared.
"What!" she ejaculated.
He lifted a reassuring hand. "At least not here. Not tonight."
"What on earth are you talking about?" she demanded. "I can see the papers right there in front of me," she said sharply. "Aren't they divorce papers?"
He nodded. "They are," he replied. "Prepared by a Qazhar court. They are fully legal. Just as I promised they would be."
"So what's the problem?" she asked. "Surely, all I need to do is sign on the dotted line, and that will be it."
Razim shook his head. "It's not that simple."
"What do you mean?"
Razim leaned forward and peered into her eyes. There was a steadiness to his gaze, hinting at determination. She'd seen that look many times. Absolute determination. And there was also the hint of something else.
Desire.
She sighed. That was a look she knew all too well.
Right now, it was the last thing she wanted to see written on his features. All she wanted was to get out of here. Get away from this man who could still send her emotions tumbling.
"Are you telling me the papers aren't legal?" she demanded.
Razim shook his head. "They're perfectly legal. It is just that they cannot be signed here."
"What!" she exclaimed. "That's ridiculous. What does it matter where they are signed?"
Razim clasped his hands together and leaned even closer toward her. "For them to be entirely legal, there is one condition."
"And what is that?" she asked, feeling the worry tighten in her middle.
When Razim spoke, it was with a calmness which disturbed her. He reached down and lifted the bundle of papers. "For the divorce to be final, these have to be signed, in person, by both people. In Qazhar."
Paige felt her heart sink. She leaned back against the seat and gasped.
Razim smiled and she knew he thought he'd won an important victory. "Tonight, you're going to have to come back to Qazhar with me," he announced.