Page 10 of The Sheikh's Willing Captive

As was dictated by tradition, the real divorce decree, was no thick wad of papers.It was one sheet of ancient parchment, centuries old, over which he would have to declare, in front of a witness that the marriage was ended. The parchment had its roots in the desert, from a time when tribal marriages were a very different matter from what passed for wedlock these days.

Out in the desert, there was no need for complex legalistic documents. That wasn't how such things were done in Qazhar. Just like so much that was important about his country, tradition would dictate how his marriage to Paige would end.

Razim kicked at the loose sheets of paper, now utterly useless. Before he'd prepared to fly to the US today, Razim had known he would need some kind of token, something to persuade Paige. Of course, now he realized it had been a foolish idea, to pretend that he had in his possession the actual divorce papers. At least it had persuaded her to get on the plane. And remain. Perhaps it had served a purpose.

But, now what would she think of him? He was barely able to even think about the answer to that question.

One thing was for sure, though.

Paige wasn't going to come out of the bedroom until the plane landed at Qazhar airport. He was locked out. Just as he'd been locked out so many times during their tempestuous nine months as man and wife. Before she had run off. Before she had decided she couldn't take any more of their regular disagreements. Their intense, mutual passion.

He wondered what she was thinking as she lay in there, on the bed. Just picturing that image in his mind was enough to trigger his need once again. If he'd had his way he would have ripped that gown off her body and claimed her here in the cabin.

His desire ached to be satisfied. And, as if to make his torment almost unbearable, he had his wife on board. Finally, after twelve excruciating weeks, during which he'd hardly been able to contain his need. Surely he had the privilege to claim what was rightfully his.

But it was not destined to be. At least not now, he told himself.

And he didn't blame her. There would be time to explain, and he wondered how she would take the revelation that the divorce wouldn't take place on her day of arrival. That he had been selective with the truth. But, he'd had no choice.

Paige was spirited and feisty, Of that there was no doubt. He would deal with her inevitable disappointment when she realized that her stay in Qazhar would have to be longer than she thought.

No doubt, she would complain. And he would try to console her in the only way he knew.

With dominating passion.

He'd seen how she'd reacted to his touch. To his caresses. To his kiss.

She still wanted him. Of that he was in no doubt.

Razim thought about how Paige would react to the news that she would have to stay the entire weekend until the ceremony was held during which he'd finally have to decide, once and for all, if he would end their marriage.

Paige was going to be with him in Qazhar, and he would have one last chance to persuade her that her true place was by his side.

****

The plane taxied to the end of the airstrip which adjoined the Al Kharif palace. Sitting on one of the leather seats, looking through the jet's small porthole window, Razim could see his palace.

His home.

It shimmered, bright and white, a glorious jewel in the early morning sun. Beyond the palace there was a golden expanse of desert. Razim sighed contentedly. It felt good to be back. For a moment, hope rose in his heart. Perhaps this had been a good idea, after all, he told himself.

There were times when he was glad that he had a private airstrip. And this was definitely one of them. It was one of the privileges he enjoyed the most. It made leaving and returning to Qazhar so much easier.

Razim glanced impatiently toward the door to the bedroom. There was still no sign of Paige. She hadn't emerged since their encounter hours before. For his part, Razim hadn't been able to sleep. It had given him time to prepare for the inevitable storm which he was about to face.

He wondered how she was going to take the news that just being on Qazhar soil wasn't going to be enough. That she would have to reman in his palace for nights until all the preparations had been completed.

Until the divorce could be carried out. That thought made something hard twist in his gut. Divorce. The word rang in his mind. That wasn't what he wanted, and he knew it. Felt it with every part of his being. He wasn't willing to contemplate failure. Wasn't going to let Paige go without a fight. Even if that meant bending the truth; even if it meant using every delaying tactic he could think of. He wasn't going to rest until he'd tried everything possible to persuade her she should remain in his life.

For good.

The plane taxied to a small building. Razim saw two servants rush out toward the jet.

Then he heard the click of a lock. He turned to look at the door and saw it open slowly. Paige peered out and saw Razim. Her brows furrowed when she looked at him. He didn't dare say a thing and leaned back on the seat.

Paige stepped out into the cabin. Razim withheld a gasp as he gazed at her. She looked stunning. Her hair was tied back neatly into a bun, and she was wearing an elegant, tight-fitting white dress. The hem ended just at her knees, emphasizing her long legs. She wore flat shoes which merely added to the elegance of her appearance.

Paige peered out at the runway. "I forgot," she said. "You have your own airport." Her voice sounded dry and slightly tired. Maybe she hadn't slept well, he told himself.

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