Sheikhs of Al-Dashalid: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  He pressed her back into the sumptuous fabrics hanging from the wall and she arched her back toward him, little moans escaping her throat. His blood thrummed in his veins. He could rip those scraps of clothing off her right now. Rami dragged his lips over her collarbone, and she tipped her head back, exposing her neck to him. He licked up the length of it.

  “Rami—” She was breathless, urging him on, and he surged toward her—

  There was a knock at the door, and he whirled, Catelyn in his arms, to face Murat.

  The dressmaker raised his eyebrows, then reached for the handle of the open door. “I’ll meet you in the front,” he said, as if this happened all the time. “You’ve made a gorgeous selection, Sheikh Rami.”

  11

  “This isn’t a good idea.” Rami crossed his arms over his chest, facing off with Catelyn at the edge of a smaller dining room in one of the quieter wings of the palace. Standing in the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows, he was heartbreakingly handsome.

  Catelyn reached up and traced the line of his jaw with a fingertip. “It’s a wonderful idea. And all you have to do is make small talk.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “After all, you said you wanted me to make you better. This is how I’m going to start.”

  “We’ve already started in other ways,” Rami said, and the heat in his voice might have drawn her in entirely if Adria hadn’t arrived with their other guests. He turned, putting a smile on his face that seemed perfectly genuine to Catelyn, though she knew he was nervous from the flicker of anxiety that went through his eyes.

  “Adira, who have you brought to put up with us?” He greeted his sister, and Catelyn stepped up beside him, tucking her hand into his elbow and giving him an encouraging squeeze.

  Adira was glowing, radiant, her dark eyes dancing at the prospect of a couples’ tea party with her older brother. When Catelyn had come to her with the idea, she’d laughed out loud for several minutes. “Rami? At a tea party?”

  Catelyn had nudged her with an elbow. “Give him some credit.”

  Now here they were, being introduced to Hassan and Karima, a young couple Adira’s age. “We met at a social gathering for young entrepreneurs,” she said as they sat down at an intimate round table near one of the windows. “They got married last summer.”

  “Entrepreneurs?” Rami sounded cynical. “Are you a young entrepreneur, Adira?”

  She dismissed him with a flick of her hand. “I could be, if I wanted to.”

  “You couldn’t,” Rami said with a little laugh. “You have royal duties, to begin with, and—”

  “Let’s play our game.” Catelyn gave Rami a big smile and a meaningful look. “Who’s ready?”

  “I am,” offered Karima, whose oval face was framed by dark hair that fell in a sharp line to her shoulders. “Unless you want to explain it first?” She shrugged, a self-conscious grin on her face. “This is funny, isn’t it?”

  “It’s an old strategy I learned back in my sorority days,” Catelyn. “A way to prep for interviews and…other occasions. Do you all have your cards?”

  “I have mine.” Adira waved hers in the air in front of her.

  “And mine.” Hassan was game, though he kept exchanging looks with his wife that made it clear they found this business highly amusing. Catelyn liked them instantly, because even if they thought it was funny, they were clearly committed to taking it seriously. Hassan cleared his throat. “I’ll go first.”

  “Weren’t we waiting for an explanation?”

  Catelyn turned to Rami. “The game is simple. They ask questions, you answer.”

  He stared at her, then slowly shook his head. “You’ll be the death of me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she said briskly. “Hassan, go ahead.”

  He shuffled the cards in his hands and read the one on the very top. “What sport are you the worst at?”

  Rami laughed out loud. “That’s a ridiculous question. For one thing, there are too many sports I’m not expert in. And to debate the merits of—”

  “Rami!” Adira cut in. “This should be an easy answer.”

  “Fine,” he said, with a barely disguised roll of his eyes. “The sport I’m worst at is tennis.” He waved a hand in the air. “Next question. Next question.”

  Karima was up next. “When you’re about to lose a business deal, what do you do? Cut and run or double down?”

  Rami stared at her. “I don’t love that this is insinuating that I lose business deals. I can count on one hand the number of people who—”

  Catelyn nudged him gently with her elbow. “Here’s a new strategy,” she said quietly. “When you hear the question, instead of jumping right in, stop, think of your answer, and then say it.”

  He gave her a skeptical look.

  “Try it,” insisted Catelyn. “You think fast enough that there won’t be a noticeable delay.” And, she thought to herself, it might make his answers less off-putting.

  “My turn,” said Adira. She looked her brother in the eye. “Please describe the perfect woman.”

  There was a pause during which Catelyn’s heart leapt into her throat. She half expected Rami to dismiss the question out of hand while also going to great lengths to explain why it wasn’t a legitimate question in the first place.

  Then he spoke.

  “Petite,” he began. “Blonde, her hair just past her shoulders. Blue eyes, the color of the sea.” Catelyn felt her face heating up. “Laugher like a summer day. Confident and funny. Brave.”

  He finished speaking and glanced at Catelyn for confirmation.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adira, Hassan, and Karima sharing a knowing look.

  “What?” Rami asked. “Did I take too long to answer?”

  A burst of laughter escaped her. “No, I’m just—I can’t believe you—” She tried again. “Your answer was perfect, and it was very charming.”

  “Good,” he said, nodding seriously. “That’s good. Next question.”

  She sat back in her chair as Hassan read another question off. Was it possible that Rami hadn’t realized he was describing her? Was he only listing those characteristics by rote, just to have something to fill the silence after his thoughtful pause?

  Or had he meant it?

  12

  “What you’re describing is a total train wreck, Daisy, and I—” Catelyn paced the suite down the hall from the room she shared with Rami, trying to keep her heart rate under control. She deliberately slowed her steps. It wouldn’t do anybody any good if she ended up running in circles around the room. Plus, her dress was a revelation. Every time she caught a glimpse of it in the mirror she flushed with pride. “I don’t know what to do. Let me think.”

  The moment she was past the mirror, though, reality set back in. Catelyn had spent a few days checking in every so often with Laura and Daisy on the phone, letting them run things back in New Jersey.

  It was not working out.

  “She’s saying she’s going to get on a plane, Cate.” Daisy’s voice was trembling. She was normally the most poised of the three of them, but the situation had her rattled. “What am I supposed to do to convince Marissa Keller that she can trust us after this?”

  “Daisy, it’s not the end of the world if the venue won’t book.” Catelyn’s business instincts kicked in. “We put together a whole binder of alternates.”

  “Yes, but she’s insisting on the Ashford Estate. She’s threatening to cancel our contract if we can’t get it.”

  “I’ll make some calls first thing in the morning.” Catelyn raised a hand to her forehead, then remembered her freshly applied makeup. “I’ll take care of it. I’m sure, given all the increased publicity, that the Ashford Estate could make some scheduling rearrangements—”

  “They won’t,” Daisy said, and Catelyn could practically see her shaking her head. “They won’t. The date she chose is booked by someone in the Rockford family.”

  Catelyn hissed a breath thr
ough her teeth. “The Rockfords? Seriously?” She wracked her brain for some connection—any connection. “When did they book?”

  “I—I didn’t ask,” Daisy said, and there was a shift in the background noise that made it sound as if she were going back inside from the street.

  “If it’s a recent booking, maybe we can negotiate something. We’ll figure it out. And I’ll send a message to Marissa right now. Sound good?”

  “Thank you,” Daisy said. “I know we should be able to handle this, but the amount of calls—”

  “I totally get it. Was there anything else you needed?”

  Daisy laughed. “You, back in the office. But this’ll have to do in the meantime.”

  “I miss you guys,” Catelyn told her, and Daisy begged off the call. Piles of work, she said.

  Catelyn was torn. On the one hand, she felt guilty and a little anxious. It was harder than she thought to work from Al-Dashalid, but she’d have to get over it and buckle down. The business needed her.

  On the other hand…there was the dress.

  Five of them had arrived from the dressmaker, and Catelyn had known instantly which one Rami would love the most. She’d sequestered herself in the guest suite earlier in the afternoon with a hairstylist and makeup artist—Adira had insisted on Catelyn using the palace staff—and had lingered over putting the dress on. The fabric was like a dream. Catelyn couldn’t stop running her hands over it, and she wanted Rami to run his hands over it, too. Preferably under it.

  One more glance in the mirror, and she was ready to go.

  Her heart beat harder on the way down the hall to the far larger and more sumptuous suite she and Rami shared. The way he’d looked at her at the dress fitting had been hot enough to melt glass. Now that she was actually wearing one of those dresses, she imagined those dark eyes would be hot enough to incinerate.

  She pushed open the door, her pulse fluttering in her throat. The living room was empty, so she moved through to the walk-in closet and dressing area. The sight of Rami standing in front of the full-length mirror made her pause.

  The set of his shoulders was all nervousness. His hands worked at his throat, tying his tie and then undoing it again. He mumbled something under his breath. Tied the tie. Untied it. His motions were choppy, and he let out an impatient sigh. This version of Rami reminded her of the man she’d met in Texas, who said the wrong things and never knew when to quit.

  She hovered silently near the door, watching him tie his tie again. The man was so tense. He could really use a blowjob. She licked her bottom lip in anticipation of it. It would be deliciously dirty, to get down on her knees in front of Rami in this closet, in this dress.

  “Hi,” she said softly from the door, watching in the mirror as his face lit up in a smile and then, a moment later, the delight reach his eyes as he registered her dress.

  He turned away from the mirror, hands falling away from his tie. “Hi.”

  Rami’s eyes burned into her. She wouldn’t be surprised if the dress caught fire, the way his gaze raked over it. He crossed the distance between them in an instant. Catelyn’s breath caught as he moved in, his easy dominance over the space at odds with the anxious way he’d been doing and undoing his tie.

  A half step away, Rami looked down the length of her, dipping one finger beneath the neckline of her dress to feel the skin beneath. “This is a thousand times better than it looked in the store.”

  “Well.” Catelyn reached up and pretended to flip her hair, though it was gathered in a sleek knot at the back of her head. “This one was made for me.”

  “I was made for you.” The tone of Rami’s voice sent desire curving down the length of her, straight to the apex of her legs, and she felt her body react to him. No. A blow job was all wrong. Rami preferred to be in control—so she wouldn’t offer him oral sex. She would tempt him into giving it.

  Catelyn bit her lip and looked up into Rami’s fine, regal features. She took a half step back.

  “What’s this?” Rami narrowed his eyes.

  “A surprise,” she said simply, then reached down for the hem of her dress. Inch by inch, she dragged it up to her waist, revealing a pair of jewel-blue panties that matched the color of her dress to perfection. They were an exquisite lace confection, and from the bulge at the front of Rami’s pants, he liked them. A lot.

  “Are you trying to torture me?” He choked out. “Now I’ll have to sit at the party knowing those are underneath your dress.”

  “If you feel that way—” Catelyn hooked her thumb in the waistband of the panties and tugged them off. “I won’t wear any at all.”

  He stepped closer, a low growl escaping his lips, and Catelyn backed out of the dressing room and into the bedroom. She kept going, Rami stalking her, until her ass hit the bed. She hiked up her dress a little higher, exposing her bare pussy to him.

  “There’s only one more thing I need for the party.”

  “Only one?” Rami said, and then he was lifting her, perching her on the bed, and knocking her knees apart with one firm hand. She gasped at the cool air dancing between her legs. “God,” Rami commented, eyes fixed on that sensitive place. “You came in here on a mission.”

  It was becoming difficult to wait like this, spread out on his bed. It was becoming more difficult to picture the end of this—when she signed the papers that would divorce them and that would be the end of it. Of the flirting, of the parties, of— Before she could think any more about it, Rami fell to his knees.

  His breath on her pussy made her squirm with impatience. “Oh, please—” She clutched at the comforter on the bed as Rami’s low laughter filled the air. He kissed the inside of her thigh, then an inch closer, then another inch. “You’re very, very wicked,” she said through clenched teeth. “You are a wicked man, Rami, and I—”

  “How wicked?”

  He stole her answer out of her mouth when he licked up the length of her. The jolt of pleasure stole the air from her lungs. He licked again, strong and forceful, then gentle and soft, and Catelyn’s hips rocked back and forth of their own volition. Rami pinned her with his hands, holding her in place, and it only made her hotter as he swirled his tongue around her clit, sucking gently and then attacking it again with his tongue. Just when she thought she might implode, he backed off, teasing her with little licks around her opening and then—when she couldn’t take it, when she said his name, when she begged—he devoured her again.

  Catelyn arched back against the bed, pressing up into his mouth, and rode the wave of her first release.

  But Rami wasn’t done with her yet.

  Even while she shuddered beneath him, he did not relent, and soon she found her muscles tightening, the desire coiling low in her belly—and it unleashed itself again.

  “Okay,” she gasped, barely able to force the word out, her body ringing with the pleasure. “Okay.”

  “You never gave me an answer,” Rami said, standing up from between her legs, shoulders back, chin high.

  “About what?” Catelyn panted on the bed and forced herself to sit upright. It took several deep breaths to get herself under control.

  “How wicked I am.”

  She stood up and took his tie in her hands, deftly undoing it one last time and tying it in an elegant knot at his neck. “You’re not wicked at all. You’re…you’re a prince.” She rose on tiptoe and kissed him, tasting her own sweetness on his lips. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Now, where did I put those panties…”

  “It’s too late to find them now,” Rami said firmly. “It’s time for the party.” He tucked her hand into his elbow and led her out the door.

  “Are you sure you can stand…knowing what I’m wearing?” Catelyn teased while they made their way down the hall.

  “Are you sure you can stand knowing what I’ll do the next time we’re alone?”

  Catelyn’s heart fluttered. “No,” she said, an irrepressible grin on her face. “No, I’m not sure at all.”

  13

&nb
sp; Catelyn stopped by a large mirror in the entryway of the palace ballroom, checking her hair one more time. It still, thank god, looked perfectly sleek—not at all as if she’d just been the recipient of two orgasms that had made her feel so good and loose she could have taken a nap.

  “You look gorgeous,” Rami said simply, and offered his arm again.

  The hum of voices came loudly through the door. It reminded Catelyn of all the wedding receptions she’d entered as a wedding planner. This would probably be roughly the same. Nobody was going to notice her, anyway. Not next to Rami.

  Two attendants opened the doors for them, and they stepped through into the ballroom, a massive room filled with tables covered in pure white tablecloths. Flowers burst from crystal vases in the center of each table, and black-suited waiters moved among a crowd of people decked out in their finest.

  But she’d been wrong.

  The moment the doors closed behind them, it was as if a ripple went out through the party. Everyone turned to look.

  It was nothing like entering a wedding reception, aside from the decorations. When people saw her in her all-black uniform at a reception, their eyes slid away, relegating her to a background character. This time, people looked at her openly.

  She scanned the crowd. Some people gave her small smiles, some frowned at her—but all of them looked. Catelyn was used to entering large rooms like this, but a blush rose to her face. She’d felt so perfect before she stepped into the room. So elegant. So flawless. But that didn’t mean she felt that way beneath the surface. An uncomfortable shiver went down her spine. Her parents had worked hard to look perfect, too. But inevitably, they cracked under the pressure of keeping up the facade.

  Catelyn felt that possibility pulsing underneath her skin as Rami gave a royal wave. It acted as a signal and people—most of them—tore their eyes away as they pushed on into the party.