The Sheikh's Bought Wife

want me to try to work out what you mean from the vague clues you’re giving me?’

He gave a laugh. A soft laugh edged with mockery but tinged with something darker. ‘Ah, Jane,’ he murmured. ‘Clever, clever Jane. I don’t doubt for a moment that you could work out my meaning if I gave you enough clues, but that would only waste precious time and I’m not prepared to waste any more.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘But you will. Very soon you will,’ he promised as he stroked a reflective fingertip over her trembling lip. ‘I’m going to make love to you. Fully. Properly. Completely.’

‘But we c—’

‘Yes, we can,’ he intervened, and before she had a chance to protest any further his other hand started caressing the indentation of her waist through the soft silk of her gown. ‘I have spoken to my lawyers.’

‘Lawyers?’ she repeated faintly, because, in the context of his hands smoothing down over her body, the word seemed to jar.

‘Mmm.’ His lips were on her neck now. ‘The conditions of the will have been met and I have inherited Dahabi Makaan. It is done. So now we can do the hell what we want.’

‘But that means we won’t be able to dissolve the marriage within six months!’ she said, trying desperately to ignore the thundering of her heart and sudden rush of heat to her sex. ‘We’ll have to wait at least two years for a separation.’

‘And would that bother you?’ he questioned, his fingers splaying over one engorged breast.

At that moment she was so aroused that she felt the whole Kafalahian army could have charged through their bedroom and it wouldn’t have bothered her. Because six months or two years—what difference would it make? They were still going to get divorced, weren’t they? And why shouldn’t Zayed be the man to take her virginity when she wanted him so much? Why shouldn’t she enjoy that unique and precious experience with someone she’d come to care for more deeply than she’d ever imagined?

‘I guess I could live with that,’ she said coolly, determined not to scare him away with her eagerness.

‘Then so be it.’

His lips were no longer on her throat and his voice was no longer a murmur. It had the undeniable ring of determination, which matched the darkening of his face as he picked her up and carried her over to the divan like every masterful fantasy she’d ever had about him. By time he peeled the robe from her body she was already desperate and aching as she watched him undress. She was scared and excited as all that magnificent tawny flesh was revealed, her hungry gaze taking in the broad shoulders, the narrowed hips and the powerful shafts of his muscular legs. And there, at the cradle of his groin, was the daunting sight of his erection—so big and so proud. She had touched him there so many times before but now—at last—she was going to feel him deep inside her.

He came to lie on the divan beside her, his finger tracing light circles around each of her puckered nipples, before bending his head to lick each one in turn and Jane shivered as tremors of pure bliss rippled over her. She’d thought that once the decision had been made Zayed would seek to possess her very quickly but to her surprise he seemed to be taking all the time in the world. How could he be so controlled, she wondered yearningly, when it was plain that he was as tense and as hungry as she? She sucked in a ragged breath as his tongue cleaved its way over her belly while his fingers moved against her heated sex.

‘How long shall I make you wait?’ he questioned, almost idly. ‘Long enough to make you beg, as you begged me that first time I ever touched you intimately?’

‘Is that what you want?’ she gasped, but he shook his head.

‘You can never give me what I want, Jane,’ he answered, his voice dark. ‘But I can give you what you want. And I can ensure that you will never forget me for as long as you draw breath. That no man will ever come close to giving you the pleasure which you are about to experience in my arms.’

It had the ring of a territorial boast and something about the dark note underpinning it told Jane she ought to stop him, because their needs were too different. She cared for him more than he cared for her. More than she suspected he would be capable of caring—for anyone. She bit her lip, knowing that everything he’d said had been true. If she let him take her virginity, she would never be able to rid herself of his memory—his hawkish face and hard body would haunt her for as long as she lived. But she couldn’t stop him. She couldn’t and, what was more, she didn’t want to. So instead she just lay there as his gaze was directed to the swell of her rapidly rising breasts before travelling down to stare at the soft triangle of hair between her thighs. It was a candidly assessing look and for a moment she could imagine what a whore must feel like, but somehow she didn’t care about that either.

‘You have one last chance to change your mind,’ he said softly, as if he’d been able to read her thoughts.

She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to change my mind.’

He smiled as he moved over her and parted her thighs and she could feel the tip of his erection teasing her moist flesh. And although they had come this far before, this time was different. His eyes were dark with ebony fire as he looked straight into hers and slowly entered her.

It hurt, yes—but only a little—and the hurt was quickly replaced by an indescribable feeling of warmth and joy because this was what she had wanted for so long. He filled her and she cried out his name. He pushed deeper inside her and she said his name again. And again. Wrapping her legs around his back, Jane gave herself up to the delicious rhythm as he began to move, her hands at his shoulders and her lips at his neck. She gasped as she felt her orgasm building and the familiar pleasure began to sweep her up—and suddenly she was crying out loud and so was he. As the delicious spasms racked her body he gave a low, shuddering moan as he bucked inside her.

For a while they said nothing. Feeling closer to him than she’d ever done before, Jane tightened her arms around him as she lay listening to the muffled thud of his slowing heart, wanting nothing more than to just savour the moment. But somehow she couldn’t hold back the unwanted thoughts which came flooding into her mind. She wasn’t unrealistic enough to hope for words of love but wasn’t it possible that they needn’t rush into getting a divorce? That Zayed might be prepared to give their marriage a chance?

‘That probably wasn’t the smartest move in the world,’ he drawled.

His words startled her and, uncomprehendingly, Jane raised her head to stare at him. ‘I’m sorry?’

Shaking his dark head, he withdrew from her. ‘We shouldn’t have done that.’

‘Well, I know.’ She swallowed. ‘But we did.’

‘Yes, we did,’ he agreed, his hawkish face tight with tension. ‘Maybe it was inevitable after all these weeks. Unrealistic of me to think I could share my bed with a woman and not possess her.’

Suddenly Jane wanted to scream. She’d thought it had been about passion but for Zayed it seemed to have been all about possession.