She turned the dress toward her, inspecting the delicate label which she knew had been hand-sewn into the dress as the last step. “It’s couture. This isn’t something you buy online.”
“I emailed the designer and requested a couple of dresses for the honeymoon.”
“And how did you get it here so fast?”
“Had a plane go get it.”
“Just like that?”
He shrugged. “I thought you’d look good in it.”
“That’s a ridiculous amount of money.”
“I have a ridiculous amount of money.”
She shook her head, lips pursing as she struggled not to smile. “You’re shameless.”
“I know. But you like my confidence.” He left the bed and approached her, his gaze slowly examining her, starting at the top of her head and working his way down, possession darkening his eyes. “Maybe we should skip dinner tonight again,” he said, drawing her into his arms, dipping his head to nuzzle her neck.
Her lips parted in a silent gasp as his mouth found nerves behind her ear, then along the column of her neck before kissing the hollow at her throat. “But Cook has re-created our wedding dinner,” she protested hoarsely.
He found her lips, kissed her slowly, thoroughly, until she was clinging to him, her hands fisted in his shirt.
He lifted his head, gazed down into her eyes, and Emmeline blinked up at him, dazed. “Maybe we don’t need dinner,” she said breathlessly.
He smiled but there was a dangerous light in his eyes. “I don’t, but you do. You’re not eating enough, and you’re eating for two.” He gently but firmly set her back. “So I’ll go shower and dress in the other room, but I will have you tonight, Emmeline. So do what you have to now, because later you’ll be mine.”
Pulse unsteady, Emmeline rang for a maid as she needed help fastening the tiny hooks of the seductive gown.
Finally dressed, Emmeline brushed her hair again, leaving it loose, and then did her makeup, focusing on her pale pink lips and dark smoky eyes. Finished, she rose from the dressing table, stepped back and glanced at herself in the mirror. As she turned, the long ropes of pearls swayed, brushing against her bare back, and the thin satin fabric strained to contain her breasts, while it kissed her belly and slid over her thighs. It was such a daring gown. It hinted at passion and seduction and very hot sex.
Sex. That’s what they had together, wasn’t it?
Hot sex, good sex, and she’d have to learn to be happy with that. Not to want more.
House staff bowed to Emmeline as she walked through the villa and directed her to the garden. In the garden more staff pointed her to the terrace below, the middle terrace, where a white silk tent had been erected on the lawn overlooking the sea, with torches at each of the tent’s four corners, the long bamboo poles buried deep in the ground. Emmeline’s pulse matched the torches tonight, her heart jumping and twisting like the gold flames.
As she climbed down the upper staircase to the middle terrace, she spotted Makin inside the tent, his back to her, his face toward the sea. He was wearing a white linen shirt and oatmeal linen slacks and she didn’t think he’d ever looked quite so regal.
“Do you ever wear traditional robes?” she asked him as she crossed the lawn and entered the tent where a table had been set for two. The tablecloth, a stunning watery blue silk, was the same clear blue of the ocean. A vase of white orchids and plumeria was in the center of the table while low white votive candles were nestled among the crystal and sterling silver.
“I do for business in Kadar. Sometimes at home. Why? Would you like me to wear the thawb and keffiyeh my countrymen do?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “Maybe. Might help me to remember you really are Sheikh Al-Koury.”
“Instead of.?” he prompted curiously.
“You.” She swallowed hard, butterflies flitting wildly inside her tummy.
“And what am I?”
“Gorgeous.”
He looked unaccountably pleased. “Am I?”
“You know you are!” she exclaimed, turning away, embarrassed to have even said that much.
Her gaze fell on the sitting area created in front of the table. A low couch was upholstered in the same matching blue silk as the tablecloth, with throw pillows in white. More white candles glowed in glass hurricanes on the ground. Emmeline could smell something tantalizing in the air and didn’t know if it was his fragrance or the plumeria or a combination of the two.
“This is so beautiful and romantic,” Emmeline said, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to be in Makin’s arms, close to his chest. In his arms she felt good. Safe. In his arms she could almost believe he loved her. could almost believe that sex would be enough….