Shuddering from the aftershocks of the most violent and profound orgasm he’d ever attained, even with her, he collapsed on top of her, knowing she loved his weight anchoring her after the storm of pleasure had wreaked havoc on them. He felt her lips trembling on his forehead, heard his name in a litany of longing.
Tenderness swamped him. “Ahebbek, ya naari, kamm ahebbek.”
She went still, her lips freezing on his face.
He rose on both arms, this unreasoning anxiety still so easy to trigger. It spiked to a heart-pummeling level. She was crying.
“That’s the first time you’ve ever said you love me,” she whispered.
Blood roared through his head in a riptide of regret. “I more than love you. Ana aashagek, I worship you and more, ya hayat galbi. And I’ll never forgive myself for not telling you sooner.”
She tugged him down for a searingly sweet kiss, letting him taste her tears of happiness. “If I forgive you, life of my heart, who are you not to? I hereby abolish all self-recriminations.”
He could argue that she shouldn’t. But her peace of mind depended on turning this page of their past. No one said he couldn’t seek redemption in secret for, say, the rest of his life.
He wiped away her tears as he swept her on top of him. “As long as it’s a two-way street.”
She buried her face in his neck on a sob, nodded.
Soon, her breathing settled into the contented rhythm of deep sleep. He lay beneath her, still joined to her, feeling her blanket him in serenity and joy.
It was merciful that he had forgotten just how sublime making love to her was. Or maybe it was different now, with their maturity, their honesty about their emotions.
He encompassed her velvet firmness with caresses, letting awe and thankfulness and then sweet oblivion overtake him.
* * *
“What’s that?”
From his kneeling position, Haidar grinned up at a stupefied Roxanne. “That is a piece from the Pride of Zohayd.”
“What?” She snatched the jewelry box from his hands, gaped down at it. “It can’t be. It’s not possible to get a part of the treasure out of Zohayd without the national guard on its tail.”
Now that she had taken the box, his stint at her feet was concluded. He rose, grinning in self-satisfaction. “You’re talking to the Prince of Two Kingdoms here.”
“You could be the Prince of Two Planets and those jewels wouldn’t be allowed out of Zohayd for any reason. Certainly not to be my…shabkah…”
Gulping as if the word stuck in her throat, she ran trembling fingers over the piece he’d picked as her “tying” present, a sublimely worked, twenty-four-carat-gold web ring/bracelet encrusted with priceless diamonds and a one-of-a-kind emerald centerpiece.
Belief hit her like a bolt, had her stunned eyes jerking up to him. “God, it is the real thing, isn’t it?”
He smiled at her, enjoying her flustered sequence of denial and realization to no end. “That is the whole point.”
“B-but how is it possible that you have it?”
Something in her eyes wiped his smile away. “Are you thinking I…took it?” When she only continued to gape at him, bitterness seeped into him. “Or that as an accomplice to my mother’s conspiracy, I got to keep some pieces…?”
She pounced on him, one hand covering his mouth. “Stop right there! I am not doubting you. I’m never gonna do that again, remember? I’m just…boggling.”
He saw it. Her disbelief had nothing to do with him. Her belief in him was total.
Hurt evaporated like a dewdrop in a furnace, teasing taking over again. “Want to boggle some more? This is the piece.”
Her mouth dropped open, remained like that for a whole minute.
Then she cried out, “No way. The first piece that Ezzat Aal Shalaan built the whole Pride of Zohayd treasure around? The piece that started the myth-turned-law of the Aal Shalaan’s claim to the throne?”
“Nothing less would do what I feel for you justice.”
She looked down at the magical beauty and intricacy of the piece. Suddenly she winced. “God, Haidar, no! It’s too much of a responsibility. I would be scared to wear it. What if I damage it? What if I lose it? What if people realize it’s the real deal?”
“The best way to ensure its and your safety is for you to remain no more than two inches away from me at all times.”
She whacked the arm reaching for her. “Haidar!”
“Just kidding. If not by much.” He picked up the hand that had inflicted such delicious pain, kissed its trembling palm. “You can say it’s an uncanny imitation, never say it’s your shabkah. Only we need know the truth and what it signifies as the centerpiece of a legend that has stood the test of time and inspired millions.”
Her hand cupped his face, her smile trembling in incipient delight. “You think we have one in the making?”
He took the ring/bracelet out of the box, fitted it on her left hand. “I know we do.”
He claimed her in a long kiss until she surfaced with another exclamation. “But how? I mean getting this—” she raised her hand to gape at the masterpiece of craftsmanship again “—is up there with flying under your own power. And when? Your proposal wasn’t premeditated. And after I blubbered out my acceptance, there wasn’t enough time.”
“You underestimate how fast I can get things done.” At her warning look he raised his hands. “But your analytical powers are spot on, as usual. I arranged to get it as soon as I received your text informing me of our meeting here. That’s why I was so late.”
“It wasn’t to make me wait an hour for each year I cost us apart?”
He smirked. “That did cross my mind, too.”
“But you were waiting for the…shabkah…” She fluttered as she examined it again.
He pinched her delightful bottom. “I could have arrived at your specified time and had it delivered here.”
“So you were messing with me.” She pushed herself harder into his hand, giving him a better grip. “As you had a right to.”
“A right I wouldn’t have exercised if I thought I had it. I wanted to run here the second I got your message. But I also wanted to get my hands on your shabkah, to be the only one to touch it after Amjad.”
“King Amjad? He brought it to you? As in, himself?”
Surprising her was such a joy. He had to keep doing it. “Who else would have such access to the Pride of Zohayd? And who else is mad enough to give me its cornerstone piece, for any reason?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s said he has evolved from Mad Prince to Crazy King status.” A tide of peach spread up her face as she rushed to add, “Which in my opinion is great. His methods are shocking, but their results are amazing. I think he’s the most effective king in the region’s history since King Kamal Aal Masood of Judar.”
He chuckled, soothing her embarrassment. “Never worry about offending my sibling sensibilities. My oldest brother always had a method to his madness, but now it also has a name—Maram. His better ninety-nine percent, as he says.”
“So you told him you wanted the Pride of Zohayd’s origin piece, and he just gave it to you? How will he justify this—and this will come out—to his council, to the people of Zohayd?”
“He’s going to tell them to shut up or he’ll auction off the rest, as he threatened to do before he took the throne from Father.”
“Wow.” Her head shake was dazed, her lips twitching. “I bet I could fill volumes analyzing him and his methods.”
“Just think—when you marry me, you’ll have open access to that one-of-a-kind specimen as his sister-in-law.”
She scrunched her face. “Yeah, that’s the main reason I’m marrying you—so I can get my analytical paws on your big brother.”
“How about getting those paws, analytical and every other kind, on me?”
She ran her shabkah-clad hand down his chest, gently scraping his flesh. “The problem will be in getting them off you.”
He took her lips, pressed her hand harder, every abrasion a sledgehammer of arousal. “I only need them off to get work and self-maintenance out of the way. Then they’re back on. And on.”
She shuddered as he deepened their mouth-mating.
It didn’t feel strictly like pleasure. “What is it, ya naar rohi?”
“This—” her gesture was eloquent with what raged between them “—fire of my soul.” Her eyes were almost uncertain. “Are humans supposed to attain this kind of happiness?”
He crushed her to him, pledged, “I only know we are.”
Eleven
“We are confident you are well ahead of your competitors.”
Haidar swept his gaze from the man who’d just spouted such an unsubstantiated claim to his other supporters, who were regarding him as if he were hiding their Christmas presents.
For the past two weeks since he’d proposed to Roxanne, they had left him no waking hour without intrusion, offering strategies, asking about his own, pushing for confirmation that he would go all out to claim the throne. Not to mention constantly pandering to his ego.
He sighed. “Let’s not indulge in make-believe, please. Rashid is a formidable contender, an all-Azmaharian war hero—”