Sheikh Without a Heart

Didn’t she like it? Didn’t she want it? Had she thought things over, changed her mind about him? About becoming his wife?

Calm down, he told himself. Relax. Give her another minute, then say something casual. Say, I hope you like it. Or say, If it’s not what you’d have chosen we’ll get something else. Or tell her, I thought this was kind of nice, but it you don’t—

“Dammit, Rachel,” he said in a hoarse whisper, “say something!”

She held the ring in the palm of her hand, looked from it to him.

“It’s—it’s the most beautiful thing in the world!”

Thank God. “I love you,” he said.

“Karim.” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t—I don’t deserve—”

He took the ring from her, slipped it on her finger. Yes. It was right. It was perfect. It was beautiful—but not as beautiful as she.

“I love you,” he said again, and he pushed back his chair, held her hand, brought her to her feet and took her mouth in a kiss that said, as clearly as words, what he was feeling.

He’d waited all his life for this one woman.

Fate, destiny, karma had meant them to find each other, and to be together for all eternity.

“Rachel,” he whispered, and she gave a soft, sweet cry, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

“I love you with all my heart,” she said through her tears. “I’ll always love you. Remember that. Remember that I’ll always, always love you.”

“Enti hayati, habibi. You are my life.”

Somebody in the room whistled, somebody else applauded, and Rachel blushed the brightest pink he’d ever seen her blush.

And dazzled him with her smile.

He dropped a handful of bills on the table, led her out into the night and took her home, to their bed, to the private little world that belonged only to them.

They slept in each other’s arms.

He woke her during the night and made love to her again. Woke her at dawn to claim her once more.

The next time he woke the room was golden with sunlight. When he saw her lashes flutter, then lift, he smiled.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured.

Rachel smiled. She put her hand against his cheek, rubbing her palm lightly over that deliciously sexy stubble.

“What time is it?” she said sleepily.

He gave her a soft, lingering kiss.

“Time to get showered and dressed, habibi. My plane is waiting.”