Sheikh's Scandalous Mistress

“Maybe,” he said, his

amber eyes growing serious again. “I don’t care what anyone says about us. I don’t care how our family came to be. All I know is that I can’t live without you or our son. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” he punctuated the question by opening up the box, revealing a massive diamond in a platinum band. “It was my mother’s, and her mother’s before her. It’s been in my family for five generations. Would you take it?”

“Yes!” she said, holding out her hand as Amir slipped on the ring. She marveled at how perfectly the ring fit her finger. It was as if Fate, itself, was giving its blessing.

He stood up then and kissed her, his tongue tangling with her own. “I love you, Amanda.”

“I love you too.”

Epilogue

“I don’t think I’ll ever like yellow,” Amir said, shaking his head at her.

Amanda laughed as they exited the newly remodeled nursery. So much had changed in the two years since she’d almost died and said yes to the proposal of a lifetime. Since then, the full extent of Senator Jackson’s corruption had come to light, all of it helped along by a head of state testifying to Jackson’s crimes and providing his own team’s forensic profiles. All of Jackson’s legacy and prestige in the United States had been dismantled, and the current administration was vowing to do its best to help take apart the regimes he’d funded in Central America. Amanda had written a whole series on the scandal and had been rewarded not only a Pulitzer, but also an offer for her old job back and then some at the Sentinel. She’d been happy to accept the award, but much to Harris’s frustration and Margery’s sadness, Amanda had refused the job.

Moving to Abu Dhabi had seemed like right choice. She’d been following in her mother’s footsteps, but now she wanted to be different and forge her own path and be there for her son and her growing daughter. Only a few months into her second pregnancy, she wasn’t even showing yet, but soon their family would be growing yet again. As long as she didn’t kill Amir over his terrible jokes about the little girl’s nursery.

“Yellow is a perfect, sunny color,” she replied, as they passed Farana’s room.

Their boy’s room was decorated in deep emerald walls and tons of posters of the Muppets. He’d fallen in love with Sesame Street. Their son was sixteen months old, and always toddling around, giving the nannies and his grandmother a heart attack as they all tried to keep him from getting into everything. Amir liked to joke that he took after Amanda—hardheaded with not enough common sense. But he was a firebrand of energy and she didn’t expect their daughter to be anything less.

Both of them tiptoed quietly to the crib’s edge and leaned down one at a time to kiss his chubby cheeks.

“Thank you,” Amir said, as they both gazed down at their angel.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

“You know,” she said, winking at him, “there’s a great way to say thank you.”

“I thought you’d never ask, sheikha.”

They snuck back to their bedroom and shut the door. It was far from the nursery hall, but one never knew how much time they had with a toddler, and she prayed that no noises would come over the baby monitor.

Amanda slipped her robe off and positioned herself on the bed, hoping she was giving her best come-hither look to her beloved. It seemed to be working because Amir had slipped out of his pajamas. As always, she would never get over what an amazing sight it was to behold. His eyes gleamed like amber, and his shoulders were broad and strong. His olive skin was taut over his abdomen, showing off abs that would always leave her mouthwatering.

“I am so glad we can forego the condom,” he said, stalking over to the bed and crawling up over her with all the grace of a jungle cat.

She laughed and patted her still flat belly. “I think that’s how we got two in the first place—we usually do.”

“Then I’m caught. I need to feel myself inside of you, my love, enjoy your heat around me. There’s nothing better than that intensity. Nothing.”

“Prove it,” she said.

There were no more words between them. He was on top of her, his heft complete as he entered her. His manhood teased her entrance at first, tormenting her with just a feel of his girth and heat. But slowly, Amir eased himself into her, driving deep into her channel until he was pressed flush against her. She could feel the scrape of his beard against her neck, smell the hints of sandalwood and his own musk as they wafted into her nose.

“Please, I need you!”

He started to rock his hips, a slow and sensuous rhythm that sent heat flaring through her body, consuming her as it had the first time and every time since.

Amir’s lips were on her neck, his teeth scraping and nibbling at the sensitive skin there. She bucked her hips, thrusting her own body up to meet his. She was grateful when his length seemed to hit her G-spot, sending more pleasure than she could imagine burning through her limbs. The fire was no longer just flickering flames, but a riotous explosion that was setting every nerve alight. His tempo increased and she felt every movement of his hips, every slam of his sweaty body against her own.

Amir came first, his seed flooding into her as his length hit just the right spot, the right intensity, and she shattered apart, her climax overcoming her. The fire was now an explosion, like her body had gone supernova, become a shooting star of its own. Amanda screamed, her cries echoing out in their massive bedchamber, and she was glad that they were so far from everyone else.

It was hard to be quiet when Amir left her feeling like that.

She took a moment to catch her breath then rolled onto her back. Amir had one other thing he loved to do, a ritual between them. As she lay there, he rubbed at her shoulders, easing out all the knots of tension that the hustle and bustle of caring for a toddler caused.