The Sheikh's Pretend Fiancée (The Sharif Sheikhs 1)

When the meal was over, the servant cleared the table, exited the suite, and left the two of them alone.

Tired, Liyah planned to return to her room and read until she fell asleep, but Asad placed a hand on her arm. “You’re welcome to join me for another bottle of wine,” he said invitingly as he swept the pads of his fingers over her knuckles.

Was this another test to see if she was comfortable in his arms? She would love to stay out here under the beautiful night sky in the arms of this gorgeous man, but in the end, it wouldn’t be real. “I should get some sleep,” she replied, pulling away. “Goodnight, Asad.”

She knew that sleep wouldn’t come easily.

It would be the first night that he’d invade her dreams. Her body came alive as her dream lover wrapped his body around hers and drove her higher than she’d ever been before, and when she woke up, she couldn’t help but smile.

The fantasy was amazing, and she embraced it because she knew that the reality would pale in comparison. Relationships were sexy, but her fake engagement, littered with erotic dreams, worked just fine for her.

6

He should never have chosen Liyah. Asad thought his initial attraction to the woman was simply a reaction to her incessant ramblings and flushed cheeks. It was rare when the woman he was with was neither seductive nor confident. He figured the attraction should have worn off quickly, but the truth was that he felt like he hadn’t slept in a week. The moment he closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder what she would feel like if he slipped his fingers inside her. Was she as wet as he was hard? Did she come quietly, or would she moan or scream?

He was starting to obsess over the idea of hearing his name on her lips.

No, Asad should not have picked her. He certainly shouldn’t have invited her for another bottle of wine the other night. That rash invitation had nothing to do with preparing her and everything to do with wanting her to stay a little longer. Maybe . . . stand a little closer. Maybe let him finally taste that sensuous mouth.

It was a good thing that she’d said no, but it frustrated him. Was she fighting her own desires? Did she go to bed wishing that he was under the sheets with her, his lips gliding over her skin?

Through the large crowd in the reception room, he caught sight of her. She wore a simple black dress—that looked anything but simple on her. From behind, her strawberry-blonde hair fell in shiny curls down her back, and he could see the curvy outline of her hips through the clingy fabric, but when she turned around, he almost broke the glass in his hand. The neckline dipped low to show just a hint of cleavage, but it was more than enough to see what she’d been hiding beneath her shapeless t-shirts.

Then he caught sight of the man whose arm was casually draped around her waist.

“Would you relax?” Amira hissed as she drifted by him with a champagne flute in her hand. “You’re supposed to be eager to show off your bride-to-be, and instead, you look like you want to kill someone. Where is your darling fiancée, anyway?”

“In the arms of Rashid,” Asad growled. Leaving the flute on the table, he stalked toward them, jaw set. Rashid didn’t bother moving his arm when he saw his older brother, but Liyah smiled warmly at him, and Asad felt some of his anger dissipate.

“There you are,” she said in a breathy tone as she walked toward him. “I was just telling your brother how easy it is to get lost in here!”

“I was just showing her off,” Rashid said with an easy grin. “And trying to figure out what she got me for my birthday. I’d love to unwrap it now.”

Liyah didn’t seem to catch the innuendo, but Asad glared at him. “You have guests to entertain,” he growled. “And I have a fiancée to introduce. Or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Rashid murmured. “And I look forward to getting to know your . . . fiancée . . . a bit better.”

It wasn’t the first time that Rashid had coveted something that belonged to his older brother. Most women preferred Rashid’s easygoing nature, but Asad would one day be head of the family. He couldn’t help but wonder if some of his lovers would rather be with Rashid.

And his brother knew it.

“You need to stay with me,” Asad hissed in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “I will not have people thinking that my lover is spending time with my brother.”

“What?” she blinked innocent eyes at him. “What are you talking about? He was just helping me to find you.”

So naive and innocent. Sighing, Asad shook his head. “Come along, my ‘love.’ Let’s make the rounds. People are already staring at us.”

He kept his eye on Bashar, the one man he knew for a fact was holding out—and one of the bigger influences of the investors. As he threaded their way through the crowd, he introduced Liyah to many of the family’s friends. To his astonishment, more people showed interest in her than he’d first anticipated. There were a few surprising comments about him giving up his bachelorhood. Others surmised that the woman on his arm was the reason that he’d shunned other women for so long.

It wasn’t until they stopped in front of the model for Rashid’s new stadium-arena and conference center that he realized she was pale and shaky.

“Take a breath. You’re doing well,” he murmured in her ear, putting a warm hand on her lower back. He’d only meant to comfort her, but her body shuddered beneath his touch, and desire surged through him.

“I’m fine,” she said with a shaky breath. “I’m just not used to being in crowds. What am I looking at here?”

“This is Rashid’s proposed project for the North Bank.” He wanted to usher her on past the mini-prototype, but he could see that she admired it. It was hard not to. As much as he hated to admit it, his brother was a talented designer.

“Is there a prototype for your condos?”