The Sultan's Harem Bride

How could she doubt with his erection pressing into her belly? He was on fire.

‘I forbid you to wear that dress in public. It’s too distracting.’

Her lips curved in the tiny, delighted smile. He drank in the sight. It was the first real smile he’d had from her, not a polite social expression but a gift from the heart.

‘I’m sure you could manage.’ She looked down, the fringe of her eyelashes screening her gaze.

‘Oh, I’d manage.’ He snatched in a laboured breath. ‘I’d scoop you up and take you straight back to your room.’

‘Like a naughty child?’ She pouted and heat zeroed straight to his groin.

‘Not at all like a child.’ Asim gave up the struggle with the remnants of his conscience and let his hand slide up to cup her breast. ‘Like the desirable woman you are.’

‘Oh!’ She leaned into his hand, filling it with her bounty.

‘Exactly,’ he whispered from his suddenly parched throat. He’d wanted to touch her all night and the reality didn’t disappoint. She arched, pressing closer, and satisfaction welled. At least he wasn’t the only one drowning in this tide of hunger.

She looked up at him through her lashes, the picture of provocation. ‘Then what would you do?’

His laughter was a harsh bark of self-derision. He was the sensualist, and she the woman who had to be convinced of her sex appeal, yet he was the one teetering on the brink.

‘I’d make love to you till your bones melted and you couldn’t walk.’ He breathed deep, rapidly losing himself in the image he’d created. ‘Then I’d do it all again.’ His desire for her was stronger than anything he remembered. Outstripping his need for any recent lover. Far beyond anything he’d felt for the bridal hopefuls paraded for him.

‘I wish you would,’ she murmured, lifting her head so he read answering desire in her bright eyes.

Instantly energy crackled through him and delay was impossible.

Seconds later she was high in his arms, held against his chest as he strode through the night. Her hands clasped his neck and even that innocent touch sent rivers of fire rushing through him.

‘Where are we going?’ Her throaty voice was eager, not shocked, and Asim smiled. Only minutes ago she’d doubted her sex appeal. Jacqueline Fletcher was anything but predictable.

He darted a look at her face. That wide-eyed stare made her look almost innocent. To a man used to seasoned lovers, it was refreshing.

‘To a bed.’

Despite the rigid tension screaming through his aroused frame, he almost smiled at her expression: doubt, trepidation and excitement.

‘So far?’ Her brow knitted as she pouted.

Asim stumbled to a halt. She was going to kill him. He wanted to find a flat surface and get her under him. Failing that... His gaze traversed the carved pillars lining the corridor. No. Taking her hard and fast against a wall wouldn’t come close to satisfying his hunger.

‘Unless you’re carrying protection concealed somewhere.’ His gaze dipped to her breasts, wobbling delectably as he strode faster, proud nipples erect beneath the fragile fabric.

His breath was a harsh scrape of sound as he finally turned into the corridor to his private wing.

‘I can walk. You don’t have to carry me.’

And let her go? Not likely. He wasn’t releasing her till they’d finished what they’d begun. Besides, he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms.

‘There’s no need.’ Ah, there was the door, just ahead.

‘I’m too heavy.’

‘Hardly.’ Asim shouldered the door open and let it swing shut behind them.

‘But I’m so tall.’

He frowned at the discordant note in her words and paused mid-stride. Something was going on in that convoluted, surprising mind of hers that he didn’t understand.

Heavy...

Tall...

‘You’re tall for a woman,’ he said slowly, watching her expression freeze, ‘But that’s good.’ Her brows twitched in surprise. ‘It means we’ll be well-matched in bed.’ His erection throbbed in eager agreement. ‘I’ve been fantasising about those long legs of yours. I want to feel them wrapped around my waist when I’m moving inside you.’

Her mouth popped open in an O of astonishment as if he’d shocked her to the core. Yet she hadn’t been shocked when he’d described his need for her, only eager.

‘As for heavy.’ He shook his head as he crossed the foyer. ‘You’re a lightweight. Even now with a little flesh on your bones you don’t weigh much.’

‘You noticed I’d gained weight?’