The Sheikh's Blackmailed Bride (Sheikhs of Al-Dashalid 2)

“I didn’t know you could dance so well,” Catelyn said.

“What happened back there?” His eyes flashed. “I was getting along with them very well.”

Catelyn swallowed hard. “You were revealing your negotiation strategies to a direct competitor.”

Rami’s eyebrows flew upward. “What? That was Michael Porter.”

“That was Michael Granger and his wife Elizabeth.”

Rami pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Ah. So that was your way of rescuing us from imminent disaster?”

“That’s exactly what that was.” Catelyn laughed. “I had to take a page from your book to do it, though.” She shook her head. “That was not the smoothest conversation I’ve ever held in my life.”

“It wasn’t so bad. All in all, I’d declare that a success.”

The song changed, getting a little faster, and couples all around them stepped apart. Rami only grinned down at her. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

In answer, he stepped right into the beat, swirling her around the entire outside of the floor, steering her so expertly that she never had to think about where they were going. She felt the music through the palms of his hands as much as she heard it with her ears, and she laughed out loud in delight. “What is this? Your way of proving that you’re utterly in control?”

“I am utterly in control.” Rami’s eyes heated. “Didn’t I prove that to you earlier?”

“You proved it once.” Catelyn was breathless, her heart beating in a rapid rhythm. It was so much more pleasant than the jagged way it beat when she saw him approaching another fumble in a conversation. She hadn’t even been looking for it with the Grangers—she’d been that confident. Now, in Rami’s arms, she felt that confident again. How could she not? He was so good at dancing that she let herself relax into it.

“Was that not enough?” Rami’s voice was low and smooth, and she wanted more of it. She wanted more of this assertive version of him who pressed her up against the wall and claimed her right there.

“I want more,” she said simply. “I want more of you.”

It was true on more than one level, though the song transitioned into a beat far too fast to dance to. Catelyn recognized it as the instrumental version of a song from the radio. She didn’t argue when Rami led her off the dance floor.

“I want more of you.” He looked into her eyes for a long moment before he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. Then his breath brushed against the shell of her ear. “We could sneak out early.”

“We can’t.” Catelyn batted him away playfully. “You still have to talk to Lydia.”

“I talked to her earlier. At the rodeo.”

“That was only a quick greeting—”

Then his eyes locked on hers. “A quick greeting is all she’s going to get,” he said, and Catelyn shivered at the command in his voice. “My wife requires more. Let’s go.”

17

Catelyn sipped the last of her coffee, her hair lit by the morning sun as she looked out over the verdant grounds of Lydia’s estate. Rami couldn’t help but admire her—standing there, in front of the window, sleep rumpled and warm. They’d had a good time last night. Especially once they left the party.

“All right,” Catelyn said, turning away from the view and putting her coffee cup on a small table by the window. “I’d better get dressed.”

Rami had been ready for an hour. It was the day of the big pitch meeting, and it was going to take place on Lydia’s private gun range. He didn’t know much about guns—those were for his bodyguards to deal with—but he was confident that his business acumen would carry him through the day. Things had gone well enough last night at the party that he wasn’t worried about it. “Where are you headed?”

Catelyn arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m going with you.”

“Going with me where?”

“To the range.” Her mouth quirked in a smile. “Lydia invited me last night. I thought you heard.”

He hadn’t heard. “That was kind of her.”

Catelyn cocked her head to the side. “You look unhappy.”