The Sheikh's Virgin Mistress 3 (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 3) Read online

  That evening both my parents arrived, much to mine and Omar’s surprise. He and my father had parted under horrible circumstances initiated by me. Omar lost over a million dollars after my horrendous oversight to finalize transfers and transactions. His parting words to my father included firing him, which cost my dad untold revenue’s since Omar had been his wealthiest client.

  It was Omar that should have been upset at my father’s appearance, but he seemed to take it all in stride. It was my dad that was the asshole, as was his normal way, and as he went on the offensive, I watched my mother wither in mortification. She didn’t know I was in a wheelchair, up on the second floor and listening as they entered the penthouse.

  “Richard, Melinda, we are so grateful you could come on such short notice.” Omar said in polite greeting.

  “Khalid,” my dad replied curtly. “Where is Anna? Just so you know, we intend on taking her home to the states—immediately. She is obviously not safe here. You obviously did not protect her and we don’t trust you to do so in the future.”

  My mom tried to interfere, “Richard, the man has shown us incredible hospitality.”

  “Shut up Melinda, let me handle this,” my dad barked, shutting mom up.

  Omar was still calm and assured and appeared un-rattled by my father’s confrontational tone, “If Anna wished to go back to the states, I would of course immediately facilitate her departure. She however has indicated she wishes to remain here, with me.

  My mom spoke up, “Richard, she loves him.”

  “She’s too young to know what love is. How can she love this piece of shit anyways? She doesn’t know what is best for her and we have to take her home. Now!”

  Both my mother and I gasped at my dad’s foul language and I felt like slapping him for talking that way about the man I loved. I shouted from the balcony, “Dad! Oh my god! How dare you talk to him that way! He is soon to be a king! Apologize now!”

  My mother dashed for the stairs as soon as she saw me and my dad pulsed his jaw as he balled his hands into fists. Omar stood calmly, still unaffected by the name calling, and neither man spoke as my mother rushed to hug me in the wheelchair. She was crying and shaking as soon as she saw some of the bruises. She gently petted at them, stroking first my cheek and eye and then down my neck and the huge one that covered almost all of my upper arm on the left side. Both my wrists showed thick, deep bruising from the zip ties they’d used to secure me to the chair, and she choked on sobs as her eyes traveled up and down my battered exterior.

  I whispered, “Mom, I’m okay, it will all heal. Just looks really bad.”

  She nodded and left her free hand at her mouth as she tried to hide her shock and concern. I turned back towards the railing and stretched over the banister so my dad could see me, “Dad, now! I won’t stand for you to talk to my future husband that way. Apologize or I will never talk to you again.”

  I really thought that would do the trick, but my dad’s jaw was set and as much as that made him a pit bull in the business world, I didn’t appreciate his tenacity in this moment. He barked up at me, “I will never allow you to marry this, this –No Anna. Melinda, help her gather her stuff, we are heading home this instant.” Then he turned back to Omar, “You are not welcome near her ever again. Is that understood Khalid?”

  Omar took a deep breath and I muttered under my breath, “Oh shit.”

  He surprised me however by completely ignoring my father and instead he told the closest servant, “Please show Mr. Potts to his room.” Then he addressed my father, “Richard, it’s lovely to have you in our home. As the father of my future bride, you will be treated with the same deference she and I are shown. Dinner will be served in the main dining room promptly at six. I suspect you’d care to wash up and rest from the long trip. Now I intend on spending time with my beautiful fiancé.”

  My mom stifled a shocked sound at how nice Omar was being and both she and I gaped at the scene below us. It was apparent my dad didn’t know how to deal with all his previous decrees falling on deaf ears. The servant picked up my dad’s bag and said, “Sir, if you’d please follow me.” My dad remained rooted and unable to respond.

  My mom giggled then, “Good grief,” she mumbled, “I’ve never seen him rendered speechless.”

  I reached over and put my hand over my mom’s and whispered back, “Omar can handle dad, he rules over an entire country.”

  After a moment, my dad quickly turned on his heel and walked off, in the wrong direction. The servant waited, and again simply said, “Sir,” indicating which way to go. With a huff, my dad followed him out of sight.

  Omar took a deep breath and then immediately bounded up the stairs, “Melinda, I am so sorry for this upheaval. Will you please join us in the parlor?” He turned to me and leaned down to gently meet lips, “Sweetheart, you needed go through the stress of seeing him again if you wish not too. Are you okay? Do you need to lay back down?”

  “I’m okay Omar. I’m sorry he treated you so badly. I won’t stand for it and I refuse to let him think my silence is agreement. I love you, and I want that known.” Then in a whisper that only he could hear, I said, “I belong to you now.”

  He kissed me then, like a real kiss and I welcomed his tongue into my mouth without any fear or hesitation.

  “I love you goddess.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Once I was wheeled into the parlor, and helped onto the couch, with my leg elevated, my mom settled next to me and picked up my hand. She petted at me and continued to make sounds whenever she noticed a new bruise.

  “Why did dad even come?” I asked.

  “He insisted darling, he is your father after all, and my husband, I didn’t feel I could tell him no.”

  I sighed, “I have every intention of staying here. I won’t obey him.”

  “I know sweetheart, but I have to partially agree with your father, I really do think it might be best if you came home for a while. If nothing else to fully heal and clear your head.”

  She turned to Omar, “Mr. Khalid, I do not blame you for what happened, the world is a scary place. I am just grateful you care so intensely for my daughter. She is all I have in this entire world. Please do not think I wish to separate the two of you. I just feel maybe she would be best cared for in a familiar environment.”

  Omar offered her a drink and she accepted, “Your daughter is a prized jewel, Melinda. It is unfortunate that Richard and I are no longer acquaintances; his attitude is distasteful to say the least. I have left it up to Anna—if she wishes to return to the states, she will have my full support. She however has told me on numerous occasions that she wishes to remain here, with me.”

  “I plan on talking to him about his attitude and language. That was entirely uncalled for. He is reacting from fear, and he is anything but his best when cornered.” She said, but her voice was full of trepidation.

  I piped up, “I need to settle some stuff with dad too. Even if it means we don’t talk again for a very long time, I need to clear the air with him.”

  Omar gave me a grave nod, “Do not let this stress you my love. There is always another time or place. I’d rather you not have more emotional upheaval in your life until your physical is healed.”

  “He’s right darling, let me handle your father. I can stay, but he can’t, at least not for more than a couple of days.” Then she looked around the tastefully decorated parlor, “And I can tell you are safe here, and so happy with Omar.” She looked back up at my future husband, “Thank you for loving my daughter Mr. Khalid.”

  “Ahhh, but it is me that’s grateful Anna loves me. And please Melinda, call me Omar.”

  We sat like that, chatting for well over and hour and it was near dinner time. Omar picked me up, cradling me in his arms and we went downstairs with my mom following closely. Once in the dining room, my dad turned from looking at a painting and his expression clouded when he saw all my bruises. My mom went to him and led him to the corner, whispering.

 
Omar continued to hold me in his arms and I whispered, “You can put me down.”

  “No.” He said and dashed down to kiss me. I could feel my dominant male was returning.

  I could hear my parents, even though they were trying to be quiet. My mom was crying again, and my dad’s voice was rising, “Melinda, you are worthless when it comes to this kind of thing. I expect you to back me up. Don’t you want her home with you? I can make that happen before it’s too late.”

  My mother bit out, “She loves him Richard! You would know nothing of this kind of love. I refuse to interfere and force her to go home. I did try! Don’t think I didn’t, and yes, I feel she is better off with me in Boston, but what you are doing, this insistence of yours? It’s only going to cause an irreparable rift between you and her. Do you really want that? Do you really want to lose your daughter? Mr. Khalid is genuinely in love with her, what is your problem? He has taken perfect care of her.”

  “Look at her Melinda! She could have been killed. Then we’d only have her body to bury. Are you willing to take that risk again? Next time, he might not get to her in time, did you see her? Seriously Melinda, this is ridiculous!”

  I interrupted my parents, still in Omar’s arms, “Um dad, mom, you are arguing over nothing. This is my choice, not yours! I am twenty five now, I get to make my own life choices.”

  Omar’s hands gripped me just a hair harder and I felt his concern that I was expending too much energy on this kind of stress.

  My dad drew his lips into a tight line and came to where we were standing, “Anna, you are my only child and I don’t feel this is the right coupling for you. I will never be okay with this.” He waved his hand in the air indicating both me and Omar.

  I shrugged defiantly, “Sorry dad, not your choice.”

  He inhaled and exhaled dramatically, “I think I should just leave then. I don’t like it here and it turns my stomach to be near the two of you this way.”

  I made a motion that Omar set me down in one of the dining room chairs, “Dad, sit here and face me. Now. I need to tell you some stuff.”

  “Anna, I don’t really want to hear all your childish reasons why you are staying here. In my mind, this is wrong and I will never soften on the subject.”

  “Dad, sit. Now!” I commanded, and surprisingly, he obeyed.

  I took a deep breath and then I told my dad how much his indifference and general self-centered, work-centered, complete lack of parental involvement in my formative years, had affected me. I told him I thought of him as someone who provided money, but never emotional support and often it was the opposite and he undermined my self-confidence on a continuing basis. I also told him I didn’t believe he understood real love at all and that he was the reason for mom’s continued depression and utter lack of desire to live a real life. I also told him that he was often mean and cruel with his words and language, and that I had a cold place in my heart when it came to him and his involvement in my life.

  He sat and listened to me, and didn’t check his phone once. He furrowed his brow, huffed and puffed, shook his head and offered me myriad expressions. By the time I was finished, he was sagging in his chair and he seemed like a broken man. “Why are you telling me all this now?” He muttered.

  “Because you are right, I did almost die. I came very close to being killed, and I feel an urgency to make sure you knew how I felt. Dad, you have to change. Your heart is cold and hard and you are starving us.” I indicated my mother in the, us, statement.

  My dad surprised me when an obvious sob crept up his throat. He nodded, but didn’t talk. He scrubbed at his mouth with his hand and then he quietly said, “Yeah, I know I could be nicer sometimes.” He looked up at my weeping mother, “Mel, I’m sorry. I often avoid coming home because I can’t stand your depressions and phobias. Is it really because of me?” His voice was bordering on desperate.

  My mom choked on a sob. “I don’t know Richard. All I am certain of is that I feel alone and without a partner that loves me, and that is what makes me sad.”

  My dad rose up and took my mom into his arms, “Mel, I do love you.” He turned back to me with my mom still cradled against his chest, “Anna, I love you too. Can you both forgive me? I promise to try harder, for both of you.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  After dinner, which was mainly spent in silence, my mom went with my dad to their room. Omar again picked me up and carried me out to the pool and we looked up at the night sky and the million twinkling stars. I stayed on his lap, and cuddled into his chest.

  “You are doing much better now that we are home.” He said.

  “I am, I feel more balanced.”

  “I must ask you Anna, are you truly okay with my possessive affection? Or are you gritting your teeth on the inside, wishing I would leave you be?”

  “I’m actually doing so much better Omar, and right now, at least in this moment, I don’t feel the need to scream or flee or fight back. That was the worst part, I was so helpless and even my struggles meant nothing. It was the helplessness I think. At least for now, I am fine.” I tilted my head up and pecked at his lips and he stoically pretended to not care, “You can kiss me silly. I think it’s just the worst when I wake up from a nightmare and you hold me even tighter. I can’t breathe and I’m not really aware of what is happening—only that panic is rushing through me.”

  He did return my kisses then, and for the first time I felt a miniscule amount of arousal inside my body. This made me to believe I was going to be fine and my old self soon enough, so I let it go at that. He grew hard under my lap, his favorite thing to do, but I said nothing more on the subject and he didn’t initiate any other touching or escalation in passion.

  “I am so proud of how you communicated with your father.” He said.

  “I guess it had to happen sometime. And I meant it when I told him my near death changed me. I can’t let stuff slide anymore. I just can’t. I wish he was sincere and he would start treating my mom better and maybe help her instead of being the cause of her loneliness.”

  “You don’t think he will at least try?”

  I shrugged, “I seriously doubt it. People don’t really change that much, at least not overnight. He might try for a short time, and that might make it even worse for mom when he retreats back into what he knows best. He is a cold man, and as much as I wish it weren’t so, that is how he’s been my entire life.”

  I told Omar about Miguel, the young man from Argentina that my mom had fallen in love with when she was only twenty one, and the subsequent heart break when he could not choose her and their love, over his family and those obligations. Omar listened intently, nodding and making sounds of understanding. When I was finished, he kissed me and held me tighter.

  He mumbled against my hair, “I’ve considered what I would do if I was told I had to choose you or my empire.”

  I waited to ask for the answer. Part of me didn’t want to know. Instead I deflected, “It hasn’t been an issue has it? I mean, I’ve yet to meet your parents, but it seems you have a certain amount of independence.”

  “Yes, I am grateful for my parent’s leniency in this area.”

  I asked in confusion, “Are you already the king? Sorry, I get confused, it seems to me as if you are already the ruler.”

  He let out an ironic chuckle, “My father is still king, but only in a figurehead sense of the word. It is I that is truly ruling and making the hard choices. In time he will hand over the crown, but for now he is still the seated king.”

  I nodded and grew quiet as I thought. “When will I meet them?”

  “Soon darling, when your bruises have disappeared and we have returned to life as before. Then I will invite them to join us and you shall meet the entire family. Did you know I have younger siblings?” I gave him a raised eyebrow look of interest, “I do, two much younger brothers and a sister only three years my junior.”

  “Um, I’m embarrassed to ask this, but I guess it would be good for me to know. How old are yo
u?”

  His hearty chuckle helped me with the awkwardness, “I suppose we have never discussed the difference in our ages. I was born in November of 1982. I am thirty two, my love.”

  “Why am I not surprised you’re a Scorpio?”

  “No? Have I already stung you with my tail?”

  I rolled my eyes exaggeratedly, “Oh yeah big guy, you’ve injected me with your poison on more than one occasion already. I’m full of your toxins! Overflowing in fact! Yeah, you’ve stung me a few times!”

  He laughed and bit at my neck, pinching the skin between his teeth so it smarted like an injection. His hand went between my legs too, and he stroked at my sex. I didn’t shrink away even though I had a moment of breath holding fear wash over me. It passed soon enough and I moaned against his lips, “I really do love you Omar.”

  “Ahhh, and I love you, my Anna.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  On Saturday, it was going to be a month since the kidnapping. I was pretty much healed up on the outside, and I was getting as back to myself as I could. I had permanent scars on both thighs near my hip bones from where the knife cut through my jeans all the way to my skin, and my left eye still looked wonky to me, like it was just a tad more sunken into my skull than the right one. I could see okay out of it, but I still got headaches on that side of my head. The doctors said that in time even those would stop when the deep, internal bruising finally dissipated.

  My mother had stayed nearly two weeks and I’d really missed her once she’d flown home. True to his normal ways, my dad stayed only two nights and although he seemed nicer and more open to the idea of me and Omar, I knew he was only faking his way through most of it. He had apologized to Omar for the name calling and they’d seemed to form a tentative, albeit reluctant friendship. My mom had told me, dad was trying only because of me and how much he loved me. I’d thought that seemed farfetched, but I was happy even if it was all an act on my dad’s part.