Free The Sultan's Choice by Abby Green

had no idea where she was going, and was too tired to ask, and yet felt bizarrely secure in the knowledge that Sadiq would know exactly where she was.
    And then she saw what was in the bag: a selection of silky underwear and pyjamas. There was a smaller bag, with exquisite toiletries and a change of clothes for the next day. She’d lost her own favourite jeans somewhere along the way today, and was now wearing a beautifully tailored pair of designer trousers and an indecently soft cashmere jumper. Together with the new lace bra she wore underneath it all felt far too decadent, and not
her.
    By the time the car pulled up outside a very expensive looking townhouse, with the iconic Al-Omar flag flying at the entrance, Samia was feeling decidedly prickly.

CHAPTER FIVE
    S AMIA walked into a hushed, dimly lit and luxurious reception hall. A huge chandelier twinkled above her and a massive winding staircase led upwards. There were exquisite oriental rugs on polished parquet floors, and small antique tables with Chinese vases which she guessed were Ming. Delicate rococco design was everywhere, and expensive looking art on the walls. One of the bodyguards closed the main door behind her softly and Samia put her leather bag down, forgetting all about her discomfort in the face of this sheer opulence.
    She took a moment drinking it in before she realised that Sadiq was lounging against a wall nearby, hands in pockets, half hidden in the gloom like some dark knight. Samia put her hand to her suddenly pounding heart, knowing that it had more to do with the immediate kick of her pulse at the sight of that powerful body than fright.
    That prickliness was back. ‘You scared me half to death. Do you normally sneak up on people like that?’
    Sadiq pushed himself off the wall and strolled towards her, half coming into the light, so his face was all dark shadows and hard planes, his white shirt making those blue eyes pop out. ‘I came back to take care of some work in the office, but I left you in good hands.’ His eyes flicked down and Samiafelt it almost like the faint lash of a whip. ‘The clothes suit you … we should have come to Simone in the first place.’
    His tone of voice, as if he was talking about an inanimate object, made Samia irrationally angry. Her hands were clenched. ‘My jeans are gone. I liked those jeans. Do you know how long it takes to break in a pair of jeans? And my top and jacket … they were perfectly good. How can I go for a walk in Hyde Park in
these?’
    She stuck her foot out to indicate the beautiful but impractical soft leather ankle boots with high heels. Sadiq came closer and Samia stumbled backwards, off balance for a second.
    ‘I’m afraid your days of walking in Hyde Park unaccompanied are gone, Samia. Do you want to tell me what’s really wrong? You must be the only woman on this earth who can spend the day shopping with an unlimited credit card and not emerge from the experience ecstatic with joy.’
    Samia diverted her gaze, suddenly ashamed at her petulance. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful … but it’s just not
me.’
She plucked at the luxurious jumper which clung so lovingly to her body and looked back up, unaware of the beseeching look on her face. ‘I was never into this sort of thing. I feel like … I don’t know who I am any more. I’m losing myself.’
    To Samia’s surprise, Sadiq came and put his hands on her shoulders and propelled her gently but firmly to a long mirror on a panel of the wall nearby. He stood her in front of it. Immediately she saw her reflection and Samia winced and looked away, but Sadiq held her fast.
    ‘Look at yourself, Samia.’
    She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. She’d managed to avoid it so far. Too many memories of her stepmother standing her in front of a mirror and pointing out all of her failings were threatening to swamp her. She’d never felt sovulnerable. Especially with Sadiq’s big warm hands on her