Captured Boxed Set: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart (2 page)

Chapter
Two

He stepped toward her and she froze.

Did he mean to take her now? Here?
With each step he took forward, her heartbeat accelerated. Pounding in her
ears. Demanding that she flee. She had to fight the overwhelming impulse.

She sucked in a deep breath, and
planted her feet firmly on the floor, refusing to run. Even if she wanted to,
there was nowhere to go.

She was intensely conscious of the
distance between them diminishing. When he stood within arm's reach, he wrapped
his long, and very strong, fingers around her arm, below the elbow.

Her stomach clenched. Oh, God, she
wasn't ready for this.

His gaze locked with hers and he
drew her toward him. Her heart flailed like a caged animal crazed with fear and
she couldn't seem to draw in any air. He reached out with his other arm. She
stiffened, expecting his hand to clamp around her, to pull her against his
body, but he didn't.

He pushed on the large wooden door
behind her. It closed with a click, then he tugged her back to her chair. Her
legs had gone rubbery, so she had no choice but to sink into it.

He stepped to his desk and pressed
a button. A moment later, two women came into the room. They inclined their
heads in his direction and he spoke to them in a language she didn't
understand. The women stepped toward her and linked their arms with hers. She
tried to pull away but failed. They seemed quite adept at this.

"Go with them. I will see you
at dinner."

She let out a sigh of relief. A
reprieve.

The women led her through
high-ceilinged, marble hallways, up a wide curved stairway, down several more
hallways, then through an arched doorway.

Before her stood a luxurious room
with a large four poster bed in rich, burgundy wood, and light-weight,
sapphire-blue silk bedding. A sitting area, composed of two plush, jade and
blue paisley loveseats with a low, round wooden table between them, filled one
end of the room near a large doorway leading to a balcony. Sunlight filled the
room.

The women guided her across the
room then through another doorway where she saw a large, sunken, marble
bathtub. One woman ran water into the tub and the other gestured for Angelica
to take off her clothes.

She'd been traveling for ten hours.
Her feet hurt. She felt hot and sticky, and she desperately wanted to get out
of this cumbersome robe. A bath would be wonderful, but she refused to do it
with an audience.

She pointed at the door and made
shooing motions to give them the idea she wanted them to leave, but they shook
their heads. Finally, she crossed her arms over her chest in a stubborn stance
and glared at them. They must have gotten the idea, because they reluctantly
stepped toward the door.

Once they were gone, Angelica
returned to the bedroom and glanced around. She stepped to the door and tried
to open it. Locked.

She sighed. They could walk in at
any time, but at least they had given her some space. She stripped off the
cotton robe, which clung to her damp body, then peeled off her white lace bra
and panties and laid them on the bed. A moment later, she dipped her toe in the
tub. The water was slightly warm, which was perfect. She stepped in and sank
into the water. She sighed and leaned back, allowing the water to sooth and
rejuvenate her body. Her eyes closed and she began to relax, until thoughts of
the tall, sexy man with the coal black eyes, who'd introduced himself only as
Kadin, tumbled through her mind.

Did he really expect her to
willingly give herself to him? Would he force her when she refused? Fear welled
up inside her, yet at the same time, excitement thrummed through her. The man
might be arrogant and intimidating, but his dangerously sexy good-looks
combined with the overwhelming sense of power emanating from him played havoc
with her hormones. Just thinking about him kissing her, touching her, took her
breath away.

She sat up and reached for an oval
bar of soap from a brass soap dish at the side of the tub. As she rubbed it
between her hands, it lathered, filling the air with the sweet scent of
jasmine. She massaged the smooth bar over her shoulders, then along her arms.
The velvety lather felt good against her skin. She ran the soap over one
breast, then the other. Thoughts of Kadin shimmered through her.

Her eyelids closed as she moved the
bar around and around the smooth flesh of her breast, imaging Kadin's hands
caressing her. Curling around her nipples, stroking them. The bar, like his
imaginary hands, stroked down her chest, then slid over her curls.

A sound from the other room
startled her. She released the soap and sat up, staring at the doorway. She
heard female voices murmuring, then the door close. Then silence.

Angelica grabbed a small bottle of
shampoo from a basket of toiletries beside the soup dish and washed her hair.
The same jasmine scent as the soap wafted around her.

A few moments later, she stepped
out of the tub and dried off with one of the large, cream, plush towels, then
wrapped it around her body, tucking the corner between her breasts. She
towel-dried her hair, then combed it in front of the oval mirror on the wall.
When she returned to the bedroom, she noticed with a start that her clothes
were gone. All that was left was a silk robe, which she quickly slipped into,
dropping the damp towel.

A tall
pitcher full of ice and what looked like lemonade stood on the low table. A
small stemmed goblet stood beside it, already full and waiting for her. The
glass dripped with condensation and Angelica's mouth watered at the thought of
the cold liquid moistening her throat. She picked up the goblet and sipped,
enjoying the tartness of the lemon. A few moments later, she decided to lie
down, suddenly sleepy. Not surprising, after the day she'd had. A short nap
would be a good idea. She closed her eyes and consciousness drifted away.

* * *

Angelica heard quiet murmurs and felt soft
hands on her body. Her eyes slowly opened as she felt her arms being raised and
she realized two women were sliding a bra over her shoulders. She found it
difficult to push back the blanket of sleep. Lethargy weighed heavily in the
stifling heat. Sunlight no longer shone in the window and long shadows filled
the room in the dim twilight. A third woman wrapped something around her hips.
She felt hands all around her, fastening and adjusting. She pushed herself up
off the bed and past the women, then shifted out of their reach, backing away
from them.

She glanced down and saw that
they'd dressed her in a skimpy harem outfit. Slowly, light filled the room from
an overhead fixture dripping with crystals. She saw a woman by the door sliding
a switch upward. A dimmer switch Angelica presumed. She glanced down at the
costume again. It was stunning in royal blue and gold with a gorgeous design
formed by the intricate beadwork. The bottom of the bra and the hip band were
dripping with beaded fringe. It cascaded from the bra and caressed her bare
midriff. She had taken belly dance classes over the past couple of years and
had eyed the instructors' costumes, wishing she could afford one for herself,
yet this was more exquisite than any she'd ever seen.

"You like it, yes?" one
of the women asked. She seemed to be the one in charge.

"It's … beautiful."

The woman took her hand and drew
her forward. "Wonderful. The master will be pleased."

Angelica's eyes widened. They were
taking her to him in this?

Of course, what had she expected?

When she slowed down, the women gathered
around her and kept her moving forward. She resisted, but they kept moving en
masse.

"Stop it. I won't go dressed
like this."

"You must. The master has
ordered it."

They quickly approached the door.
Panic flooded through her. She couldn't.

"I won't wear this!" She
reached behind her back and tried to unfasten the bra, but the unfamiliar
closure and the fussing hands of the women prevented her from succeeding. She
pulled the straps off her shoulders and tried to pull it forward.

"No, miss. You might rip it,"
one panicked woman insisted.

Rip it. That's exactly what she'd
do. She tugged at the straps but they were securely fastened on. She switched
to the belt and tugged hard. Despite the women pulling at her arms, she found
where it fastened. She realized they had stopped their forward momentum as they
struggled with her. She jerked several times until finally, she heard the belt
tear, then it fell from her hips.

The women spoke frantically in
their own language. Next, she tore at the shimmering, diaphanous fabric of the
skirt, ripping it from her body. She shoved her fingertips under the bra beside
her left breast and pulled hard. The elastic gave a little and she tried to
pull it upwards.

"Stop! You will ruin it."

She felt fingers working at the
fastening, then the bra loosened. One of her captors took it, scowling at
Angelica.

The woman in charge stepped in
front of Angelica, her hands on her hips.

"The master will be very
angry."

"Then don't tell him."

"His orders were for you to be
brought to him in that outfit."

Angelica placed her hands on her
own hips, extremely conscious of her nudity but ignoring it.

"Well, maybe it's time for him
to learn that not all his orders will be followed."

One of the women gasped. Angelica
suspected the only reason the other woman didn't seem surprised was because she
didn't speak English.

She marched away from them,
snatched the silk coverlet from the bed and wrapped it around herself. She sat
down, her arms crossed over her chest as she held the coverlet firmly around herself.

She had shown them she wouldn't be
pushed around, she thought smugly.

Chapter
Three

Angelica's smugness faded quickly when the
women simply dragged her from the bed and led her through the hallways totally
naked except for the cover she clung to.

They stopped in front of a heavy
wooden door in a tall, arched doorway. The head woman knocked and the door
pulled open. A tall guard greeted her and waved them inside. The women led
Angelica into a large, sumptuous room filled with plush, upholstered couches
and chairs piled high with silk and velvet cushions, all in rich jewel tones,
and ornately carved, ebony furniture. They prodded her to the middle of the
room and stood behind her. The guard left, but she was certain he would be
standing right outside, ensuring she didn't run for it.

"What is this?" a
familiar, masculine voice demanded.

She glanced around and saw Kadin,
the sinfully gorgeous man who'd insisted she owed him a debt, and demanded she
pay with her body. She opened her mouth to voice a protest at her treatment,
but his dark, penetrating eyes stole her breath away.

His stormy gaze drifted over the
blue silk coverlet cloaking her.

She straightened her shoulders, but
tightened her hold on the fabric.

"They refused to provide me
with decent clothes."

His eyebrows raised and he stepped
toward her. She could read nothing in his coal-black eyes. His mood, whether
foul or fair, was a mystery to her. His presence filled the room and, as he
approached, she had to force herself not to cringe. Yet at the same time, her
body buzzed with an alarming excitement.

Her body reacted to him far too
easily. She reminded herself what might happen here tonight. Unfortunately,
that kicked the excitement up several notches making her insides quiver.

"I see. So you decided to
cover yourself with this." His tone, low and dangerous, sent alarm
skittering through her.

Before she could comprehend what
was happening, he grabbed the blanket and yanked it from her grasp.

Where she'd been hot a second
before, now cool air swirled around her entire body. Suddenly, she stood
totally naked before him. Actually, not totally naked, since the women had
managed to put a necklace of beaded fringe around her neck when they'd dressed
her in the costume. She hadn't noticed until she'd felt the beads brushing
against her skin when they'd lead her along the hallway. She glanced down at
herself in horror, her gaze latching onto the beads, the twinkling silver and
gold mesmerizing her. The fringe circled her neck, growing longer toward the center,
forming a point which caressed the crevasse between her breasts.

When she glanced back up she saw
his stormy eyes had widened in surprise. Could it be he'd assumed she'd been
wearing the costume underneath?

"Leave us." At his
command, the women hurried from the room.

His expression returned to one of
cool indifference as his gaze traveled leisurely down her body, in a slow,
deliberate perusal. Her skin burned all over. She wanted desperately to cover
herself, but she refused to cringe behind the too-brief shelter her hands would
provide. Better to stand tall and proud.

Of course, that wasn't easy as she
felt the heat of his gaze. It moved along her body like a hot feather lightly
brushing her skin. Down her breastbone, sending goose bumps quivering along her
skin. Sliding along the curve of her breast, to her nipples, which tightened
and swelled erect at the unaccustomed attention. The longer he lingered there,
the tighter they became. Slowly, his gaze drifted lower, down her stomach, past
her navel, until he reached the dark curls.

Anxiety built within her, like lava
inside an active volcano, until she felt ready to burst. Her hands clenched at
her sides. She had to make him stop.

"Give me back the blanket,"
she demanded.

His gaze locked with hers, the edge
of anger hardening his usually indifferent eyes.

"Please," she quickly
amended. She was in no position to make demands, and she desperately wanted to
cover herself.

His response was to thrust the
blanket out of reach and step towards her, sending her anxiety level higher.

"Why have you chosen to defy
me?"

She clenched her fists tighter,
clinging to some shred of composure. "I couldn't wear the tiny costume you
provided. It barely covered anything."

His eyebrows quirked up. "Yet
it did cover something. Unlike your current attire." His finger stroked
the bottom of the beaded necklace.

A jolt of electricity shot through
her at the brush of his fingertip on her flesh.

He shrugged. "Certainly, an
interesting choice on your part. I hope you don't get cold during dinner."

She stared at him in horror. "You
don't mean … surely, you realize I didn't intend to ..."

"I do not intend for you to
sit wrapped in a blanket all through dinner."

Her jaw dropped. "You're not
going to leave me like this, are you?"

He thrust his finger out, pointing
at a pillow-bedecked couch. "Sit."

Oh, God. He did. She sucked in a
deep breath and stepped toward the couch, her back so rigid it felt like it
might snap in two. She sank onto the cushions, the feel of the plush fabric
against the back of her thighs an unwelcome reminder of her nudity.

She folded her hands in her lap and
stared at them. Lord, this was really happening. She was held prisoner by some
crazy sultan who wanted to ravage her to pay for a crime she hadn't committed.
She felt tears bubbling inside her, but forced them back. She would not let him
see her vulnerability. Drawing on her inner strength, she told herself she
would live through this. It would all be over soon.

Her chest felt so heavy she could
barely breathe and her fingers felt stiff and useless. Here she sat before this
man, this stranger, totally naked. Soon, he would strip her of more than her
clothes. He planned to make love to her. No, have sex with her. As a
punishment.

Her hands started to shake. Would
he really force her? Would he throw her onto the bed and kiss her until she
gasped for breath? Would he would crush her to his body, her naked breasts
flattened against his hard male chest?

She drew in a quick breath at the
horrible realization that this situation actually excited her.

Damn it. If he forced her, it
wouldn't be like the romantic scene she'd just imagined. If he used force it
would be rough and uncompromising. She might even get hurt.

A tiny voice suggested she actually
cooperate with him. Maybe even encourage him. If it was going to happen, why
not reduce the trauma? He was a very sexy man.

But she couldn't give herself to a
man who would demand her body as a punishment, without any thought to her wants
or needs.

She wrapped her arms around herself,
shivers traveling the length of her arms despite the heat.

"Why do you want to humiliate
me like this?"

"There is no shame in
revealing a beautiful body." His gaze caressed her breasts, resting on the
protruding peaks, then glided down past her navel to the triangle of curls. "And
your body is exquisite."

She felt her cheeks burn hotter. He
stepped closer and leaned slightly toward her.

"You know, very soon I will
see every inch of your body, close up … will touch every inch with my hands, my
lips, my tongue."

She
began to tremble. The image of his hands stroking down her belly as his lips
caressed the tips of her breasts sent heat flashing through her. She could
imagine him drawing her nipples into his mouth, teasing them, sucking them
deep.

* * *

Kadin watched the various emotions fleet
across her face. Her cheeks had flared bright red, then, when he'd reminded her
he would be touching her soon, the color had drained from her face. He kept his
gaze on her face now, trying to decipher her thoughts.

She was not what he expected.
Western women were sophisticated, unshakable. After all, they walked the
beaches, in full public view, wearing practically nothing at all. And sex. They
thought nothing of having several partners before marriage.

Western women were nothing like the
women of his country. And this woman had sat in his office with the simple,
white gauze robe arranged on her body to enhance her attractions in a way that
drove him wild. When he'd seen the front gaping open, revealing the swell of
her breast, he'd had a hard time controlling himself. And she had chosen not to
wear the cotton gown Dhiya had worn beneath for modesty. Thus, the gauze clung
to her damp body, and the result was that she might as well have been wearing
only her undergarments, as skimpy as they were, because they had clearly shown
through.

So why was this woman blushing like
a virgin? And he was certain he'd seen fear cross her lovely features.

When she had first been apprehended
and brought to the palace, he had assumed she'd been involved in a plot to
kidnap Dhiya. Probably working with the Englishman, Drake. After watching her
answer the questions his men threw at her, then talking to her himself, though,
he wasn't sure what to believe. She had been captured too easily and seemed a
little too shaken to be a professional. The alternative, that Dhiya had asked
for her helped, seemed the most likely.

Either way, her actions had brought
dishonor to him and his family. He could not let that go unpunished, but how
severe should the punishment be?

Before he'd confronted her in his
office, he'd skimmed the books she'd had in her handbag, wanting to understand
something of the woman. All three had themes of captivity, one actually a
collection of stories specific to the topic. In the first story of the
collection, which he'd read completely, the hero had taken the heroine prisoner
and forced her into his bed. She'd fought him, but deep inside she'd wanted him
as badly as he'd wanted her.

Clearly, the idea of being forced
to submission excited this woman, so he'd decided to use her own fantasies
against her. His suggestion had been designed to intimidate her.

And, he had to admit to himself, to
arouse her. From the moment he'd first set eyes on her, he'd been consumed by
an overwhelming need to take her in his arms and ravage her. Under other
circumstances, he would simply have asked her to dinner and proceeded to
convince her to spend the night. Maybe several nights. A woman as beautiful as
her would be quite experienced. Maybe they'd both learn something new.

But she had wronged him and he
couldn't just treat her as a guest. All afternoon, however, he had thought of
nothing but the possibility that she might actually agree to a night of
passion, his suggested punishment proving an aphrodisiac to her. An image of
her hardening nipples clearly visible through the white gauze when he'd made
the suggestion came unbidden to his mind.

He had walked in here ready to see
her in the sexy costume he'd sent for her, hoping the evening would play out to
a satisfying conclusion. For both of them.

But looking at her now, he wondered
if he'd misjudged the situation.

He handed her a silver goblet of
wine.

"Here, drink this."

When she sipped it, he saw her hand
shaking. When she put down the glass, he noticed that shivers shook her whole
body.

Damn. She looked so vulnerable. He
had intended to leave her like this, her lovely body on display. He had assumed
she had intended this as part of a game, perhaps a ploy to get the upper hand
with her allure. Clearly, that was not so.

"Now that you've had time to
consider your options, would you like to wear the outfit I sent to you after
all?"

Her face flushed red again. "It
isn't really wearable right now. I … tore it."

Anger shimmered to the surface. The
intricate beadwork had taken several days of his best craftswoman's time.

"Is that what you do with
everything you don't like? Destroy it?"

"N ... no. The women tried to
stop me taking it off. There was no other way. I d ... didn't mean to ruin it."

The thought of that tiny bra
supporting her round, firm breasts jolted into his head, then her tearing open
the fabric until they burst free. His throat went dry. Involuntarily, his gaze
dropped to her breasts and, instantly, his mood lightened at the same time as
his groin tightened. Her nipples, fully erect, strained forward. It certainly
wasn't because it was cold. It was cooler here than in most of the palace
because of the overhead fans, but it was still in the eighties. Clearly, this
woman, Angelica, was excited by the whole situation, after all.

He imagined Naja, Jazlyn, and
petite Rasha trying to stop this headstrong woman from tearing off her clothes,
and he started to laugh. Her arms stiffened at her sides, her hands balling
into fists.

"What's so funny?" she
demanded.

"I only wish you would tear
your clothes off in an effort to please me rather than to defy me."