The Sheikh's Claim (Desert Nights 2)
Wariness, logic, hostility were disintegrating, everything else inside her yearning to expose his flesh, to sink her teeth in his power. Everything else was receding, leaving only the need to drag him on top of her on the lush lawn, open her body to his invasion, writhe beneath him as he thrust her to ecstasy....
“You might as well stop fighting the inevitable now.”
Suddenly, she snapped out of spiraling down the abyss of lust and pushed against him, arms feeling like a rag doll’s.
He let her push him, showing her he’d only been holding her with her own desire.
Her palm spread against the vital wall of his chest. “So what’s this inevitable thing? Another affair? While I’m here?”
He took the hand splayed against his chest to his lips, singed its clammy flesh with nibbles. His eyes blazed with the passion that had once made her feel craved to her last cell. “It’s another affair for as long as we both want. If you leave, I’ll forever come to you, like I always used to.”
“And this social-status upgrade and cleansing you gave my family, and therefore me, is so we wouldn’t sully your image if our liaison is discovered?”
“Of course not.”
In spite of herself, his earnestness thrilled her. Could it be he didn’t care about her status, now or before…?
He aborted all foolish conjectures. “You have my word our relationship would not be discovered. My efforts were for your family, and for you, so you would no longer feel any inequality in our situation.”
So. No matter who or what she was or became, he’d always think her only good enough for an illicit liaison.
He’d polished her family name, not because he cared, or even intended to ever let her name be linked to his, but to placate her. To give her a false sense of worth. To make her feel good enough about herself so she’d walk back into his bed without the insecurities that had plagued her in the past.
Something she’d sworn she’d never feel again, corrosive oppression and shame, spread to eat through her vitals.
No. She wouldn’t let him do this to her again. She’d promised Patrick she wouldn’t.
She tugged her hand away from his. His arms fell to his sides, didn’t try to pull her back.
He still attempted to with words. “Don’t push me away, Lujayn. The past is done, and I don’t want to bring it up again. We’re here and now, and everything is different.”
She smoothed trembling fingers over her hair and clothes that the tiny taste of his passion had messed, stepped farther away.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Somow’wak. Nothing’s changed. Or if it has, it’s for the worse. Sex without emotions or the most basic commonalities would only end up in something catastrophic this time.”
He balled his fists as if against the urge to grab her. “Who says there aren’t emotions? And we do have commonalities. Starting with how much we crave the hell out of each other and ending with our common interest in upholding Patrick’s legacy and seeing to your family’s reinstatement.”
“And we can each take care of all cravings and interests without the other’s participation. It’s even advisable, just ask your campaign manager. So why don’t you go pour all that drive into becoming king? You have my uncle chomping at the bit to help you sit on that throne. Contrary to me, he believes in you. Me, I’m here only until Aunt is well enough and she’s almost…”
He frowned. “Your aunt?”
“Your investigations didn’t bother to uncover more about me and my family than what would have us in your debt, right?”
“What’s wrong with Suffeyah?”
She blinked, surprised by his apparent concern, that he not only knew but remembered her aunt’s name.
He made an impatient, prompting gesture. Warily, hesitantly, she told him, watching him closely, trying to analyze the solemn intensity in his eyes as he listened.
“…the specialists agreed she only needed a simple mastectomy, which she had two weeks ago. We’re now waiting to see if they’ll forgo chemo and radiation and have her just on antihormonal treatments. Test results so far support that, so we’re looking at a few weeks at most before everything is concluded. By that time you’ll probably be the new king of a country where I never intend to return for the rest of my life.”
He said nothing after she stopped talking, just brooded down at her. Might as well take advantage of the temporary interruption in his temptation campaign.
She moved away on unsteady legs, adding over her shoulder, “I’ll attend what’s left of your ‘celebration,’ for my family’s sake. If you don’t intend to reconsider your intentions about that ‘reinstatement’ and Uncle’s position now that you know mine, you’ll be civil and impersonal with me for the rest of this infernal night. Then I’ll leave and you won’t come after me again.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I thought you had a reason for pushing me away. Now I’m certain you do. There’s something more behind your refusal to be with me again. And I will keep coming after you until you tell me what it is. I will…”
“Somow’wak.”
The quietness of the word sundered the still night. Fadi.
As much as she hated thinking that Fadi had witnessed Jalal’s near-seduction of her, his appearance had shattered Jalal’s focus. Cursing something under his breath, Jalal turned to him.
Using his distraction, she strode to the marble steps that glowed with the moon’s silvery light. They led to a vast veranda where open French doors emanated golden light, mellow music and relaxed merriment.
As she crossed the portico, she looked back at Jalal and Fadi. The two juggernauts were watching her, each with a different brand of intensity that invaded her taxed nervous system with a fresh bout of tremors.
Suppressing her agitation, and taking one last bracing breath, she stepped over the threshold of a superbly decorated sitting room drenched in soothing illumination and spread in warm earth colors, feeling she was stepping onto a stage.
She forced a smile as everyone rose to welcome her, and started playing the part that Jalal had cornered her into again.
* * *
Jalal watched Lujayn disappear inside the villa, heard voices rise in welcome. Gritting his teeth, he turned his eyes to Fadi.
Before he could pour some of his frustration and displeasure over him, Fadi preempted him.
“I might regret telling you this, but you need to know.”