Pregnant by the Sheikh (The Billionaires of Blackcastle 3) - Page 8
“So I’m a target group of one, huh?”
Something tightened in his chest as he heard the word target on her lips. What she’d been to him before he’d seen her. Now it suddenly felt wrong.
Oblivious to his thoughts, she gazed up at him with what he now believed was trust and...was that admiration, too? “I came here tonight thinking I’d run out of luck for life, but because I met you and you’ve offered what you have, no matter what the outcome will be, I’d already revised my opinion. But to be the sole recipient of your smile? Talk about my luck making a total turnaround.”
Giving in to his compulsion, he tugged her to his side. “I’m willing to talk about anything. Just not here. Come with me?”
She nodded, shyness tingeing her gaze, affecting him more because he knew only he elicited such a reaction from her, and it was genuine, like everything else about her. “Just promise me a chance every now and then to catch my breath.”
“Although it’s the last thing I want, I’ll give you all the time you need to feel at total ease with me.”
Her eyes twinkled impishly at him. “I don’t think it’s humanly possible to feel relaxed around you.”
After that first smile, another came easier to him. “Tension works, too. As long as it’s the delicious kind.”
She sighed dramatically. “I don’t know about that. What you provoke is too scalding to be called anything so benign.”
Her ready confessions of his effect on her surged through him again with such unstoppable desire. Unable to wait any longer, he swept her outside.
As he had her rushing to keep up with his eager steps, she melted into him, as if she needed his support. Then as he steered her toward the elevators, he felt her tensing against him.
This tightness in his chest returned. “Worried again?”
Her smile brightened once more, becoming whimsical as she shook her head. “You’d never be a threat to me, Sheikh Numair. If I have anything to worry about, it’s what an overpowering temptation you are.”
Something twisted in his gut when she called him sheikh. It sounded...so right.
His arm tightened around her, as if in thanks. “It’s only fair, since you’re that, and more, to me.”
Sharing a smile of expectation with her, feeling as if everything he’d ever wanted was within his grasp, he took her into the elevator.
* * *
As Numair held the door open for her, Jen walked past him on legs that at once had the consistency of steel and jelly.
She was really here. In his suite.
Trying to focus on anything besides the feel of him at her back, his scent and heat flooding her senses, she tried to look around.
Though she’d stayed at The Plaza before, it had never been in such a room. The one-of-a-kind Royal Plaza Suite was on a level of magnificence that equaled Zafrana’s royal palace. Though with the hard times her homeland had fallen on, the state of the two places couldn’t be compared. This suite that sprawled over almost five thousand square feet in the most private area of the legendary hotel, overlooking the most prized views in Manhattan—Fifth Avenue and the Pulitzer Fountain—was impeccably maintained. With its rich decorations, sumptuous textiles and exquisite furnishings, all inspired by the ambiance of the royal court of Louis XV, it was the ultimate in luxury. While Zafrana’s royal palace, where she’d grown up, was on its way to becoming dilapidated.
Her gaze strayed back to Numair, and she found herself wondering what his home looked like.
Not that she’d ever find out. Whatever was happening here, whatever he was offering, whatever he wanted in return, she had no illusions it would be anything but transient.
Which she was okay with. Anything she’d have with him, anything he could do for her, would be far more than anything she’d dared dream of an hour ago.
Ya Ullah, had it been only an hour? She felt she’d known him, had been in this state of agitated excitement in his company, forever. It felt like days ago when she’d made her reckless request.
She’d more than half expected he’d shrug and move on. His immediate and unequivocal response had been the last thing she’d expected. And it had shocked the hell out of her.
But what else was new? Everything from the moment she’d laid eyes on him had been one shock after another. And here she was. In his suite. What she’d never done with any man. Not even the man she’d once married. She’d always met any man on her turf. She’d dictated the pace, the rules.
She hadn’t even thought of trying to impose those on Numair. Even when he’d made it clear he’d accommodate her every wish. It wasn’t because she needed his help or because he’d promised it. He was just...overriding. And for the first time in her life, she loved being swept away, not being in control o
f herself or the situation. Numair made what should have been a disconcerting experience, to someone as obsessive about autonomy as herself, exhilarating.
His hand once again burned her waist through her dress as he guided her through a succession of vestibules to a massive space hosting a sumptuous ten-seat dining table and a luxurious sitting area.
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