The Sheikh's Unexpected Wife (Zahkim Sheikhs 3)

Ginni blinked. "I could get used to this." She bit down on her lower lip. She hadn't meant those words to come out. But finding Nasim sitting in a chair, watching her, looking sexy as all get out was something she could do with every morning.

Now he was standing next to her bed, looking about ready to crawl in with her, those tawny eyes of his shooting off sparks that had her warm all over. The aroma of coffee—bitter and strong—had her lifting her nose and glancing around. She could also do with something to wake her up. Nasim seemed to realize that, for he stepped around the bottom of the bed, poured her a cup and brought it to her.

She wet her lips, still tasting him on them. He stood there, china cup held out to her, his lips curved in the fragment of a smile and eyes giving away nothing of what he was thinking or feeling.

Taking the cup, she asked, "Didn't your mama teach you to knock?"

"I did knock. You did not answer. And you might say my mum taught me more about how not to behave. She took herself off to Paris years ago, after my father died of cancer."

"Oh…oh, I'm…sorry."

"Nothing you should apologize for. I find it far easier to get along with what remains of my immediate family from a great distance. As to the rest, well, I am a sheikh of Zahkim in the Zahkim palace."

She eyed him over the rim of her coffee. "Meaning you do as you please?"

His smile widened. "Not quite, but close enough."

Sipping her coffee—and it had cooled to barely warm—she wondered if anything really ever got under his skin. He sounded calm and in control. She wasn't. Her heart had skipped when he'd touched his lips to hers—just a brush that had warmed her insides and had her thinking about grabbing his tie to drag him down in the sheets with her. The worry rose that this sheikh had already slipped too far under her skin in just a day.

Well, she'd wanted face time with Sheikh Nasim Said, and she'd sure gotten her wish. Now she had to figure out how to work a deal with him.

Still clutching the comforter with one hand, she held out the coffee cup. "It's gone cold."

He took the cup from her and set it back on the tray. "Come have something hot then. I've ordered breakfast for us downstairs. I only had tea this morning." He turned and started to walk out.

She called out to him, "Wait. What about my clothes? I left my suitcase in Jasmine's car."

Glancing over his shoulder, that infuriating, Cheshire Cat smile still in place, he said, "I've taken care of everything. See you as soon as you're dressed."

She heard the door open and close. Throwing off the covers, she fled to the bathroom. At least she had her underwear and some towels there, and she'd drag on that rumpled wedding getup and those little-bit-too-small sandals if she had to.

Turned out she had no need of the dress or Jasmine's sandals. She came out of the shower damp, underwear on, her hair frizzing, to find two guys and a gal in the sitting room, all of them slim and fashionable in skinny jeans and loose shirts and standing next to a rack full of clothes. Seemed no one knocked on any doors around here. They also didn't seem like they minded her in her skimpies, even if the heat rushed through her.

One guy tutted at her, the other rolled his eyes, but the girl cocked her head to one side and started pulling clothes off the rack. Ginni found clean underwear—something lacy and black—thrust at her and clothes held up for her selection. They didn't speak English, and she didn't know Arabic, but she got the message loud and clear—"you look a mess, sweetie, so we're gonna fix that.”

She changed her underwear—and lordy, were these lacy wonders just a little touch of heaven. The guy who'd tutted managed to get her hair under control. The guy who'd rolled his eyes nixed the black dress the girl had pulled out and got Ginni into a flowing top and wide-legged pants in a vibrant orange. She'd never worn the color before, but she liked it. Slim flats matched the clothes. Her new crew left a dozen more outfits in the closet, all bright blues and greens and a couple things in white, with an array of shoes, scarves, and everything else a girl could love. She'd have traded one for some makeup but made do with lotion from the bathroom on her face and hands.

Waving good-bye to her new friends—heck, anyone who'd seen her in undies had to at least be called that—she headed out. She had to ask twice where she'd find Nasim, but she tracked him down to a cozy—by palace standards, she was thinking—room set with a glass-topped dining table and food.

"The aroma of coffee helped guide me," she admitted. When she walked in, Nasim stood and pulled out a chair for her. She grinned at him. "Ain't you just sweet as can be and better than a butler."

He gave her a sideways look, but she winked to let him know she was joking. Shaking his head, he sat and snapped his fingers.

A couple of the staff—she could tell them by white pants, some kind of long, white tunic, and the lack of dishtowels on their heads—appeared carrying black velvet cases.

"It's customary to give a bride jewels," Nasim said.

The staff opened the cases, and Ginni caught a sharp breath. She'd never had much interest in fancy sparklers. Her mama had a set of pearls and some diamond earrings Daddy had given her, but Ginni had been more interested in asking for her first pony and European ski trips. But these…oh, lordy.

One case held a ruby and diamond necklace. The rubies hung like drops of blood from a circlet of flashing diamonds, which looked like stars pulled out of the night sky. The other held a gold ring with an oval ruby surrounded by smaller diamonds, and a matching brooch. "All that's missin' is a tiara."

"That's still in the treasury," Nasim said. He stood, came around the breakfast table and took up the necklace. He fastened it around her neck, his fingers warm on her skin, leaving her even hotter than she had been. He pressed his mouth to her skin, just under her jaw, right where her pulse thudded hard. She almost melted.

Taking her hand, he slipped on the

ring. It was a touch loose, and he frowned at that. "I'll have it adjusted," he said, sliding the ring off her finger again.

She touched the necklace, cool and hard on her skin. Her mouth dried, and her mind emptied. What do you say to a guy who gives you rubies before breakfast?