Haunted for the Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel (Curves for Sheikhs Series Book 15)

by Annabelle Winters

  Case closed, Liv had told herself when the Sheikh had left the country without so much as a goodbye. It had hurt, but she understood. They couldn’t face each other, because if they did, they’d have to face whatever had happened in that house, happened between them, happened within their own minds during those insane moments. And neither of them could face that. Neither of them could make sense of it. It had to be buried, locked away, forgotten. And then hopefully it would just disappear, become a story that wasn’t real. Demon possession? Goats and rams? Abraham and Isaac? Sacrifices and exorcisms? Nah. Better to pretend it never happened and just move on, right?

  For a moment Liv almost wished she’d never gotten pregnant. Almost. She couldn’t seriously ever wish that, because Caleb was her light, her life, the reason she woke up every morning, the reason she somehow went to bed with a smile on her face even though there was an emptiness in her heart she couldn’t understand—or didn’t want to understand.

  She glanced up at the towering figure of the Sheikh as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom and looked upon his peacefully sleeping son. Hakeem looked peaceful too, she thought. His face was relaxed, his skin smooth and brown, almost like it had been freshly polished.

  Liv blinked as she thought back to how her mother used to tell her that one of the signs of possession was unusually smooth skin on the face, and she glanced at herself in the hallway mirror as she waited for Hakeem to finish looking at his son. Her own skin looked fresh and smooth too, and although she’d have to be crazy to be worried about having no wrinkles at her age, it sent a chill down her spine as she thought back to how her last meeting with the Sheikh had ended.

  What happened in that house, she thought as she watched the Sheikh’s green eyes narrow as Caleb coughed softly and then continued his innocent slumber. Did we free each other or simply enslave ourselves? Did we exorcise our demons or simply grant them full access to our souls, to the point where there isn’t even a conflict anymore because the possession is complete?

  Stop thinking crazy, she told herself as the Sheikh gently closed the bedroom door and turned toward her, his green eyes shining like discs as his gaze made her shudder in her bare feet.

  I want . . . came the beginning of the thought again, and she swallowed hard as she once again pushed away its conclusion. She couldn’t finish that sentence even though she knew how it ended.

  Where is that thought coming from, she wondered. It feels like it’s not coming from me, even though it’s inside me.

  “What if . . .” the Sheikh began to say as he looked at her, and for the first time in all they’d been through she saw fear in his eyes. Fear for his son. Fear, because perhaps Hakeem had had the same thought she’d had: Could they even trust themselves around their son?!

  “What if . . . what?” she asked.

  “What if the pattern of this demon has not yet played out completely?”

  “What demon?” Liv said obstinately.

  The Sheikh ignored her feeble attempt to whitewash what they’d seen, what they’d heard, what they were. “My mother was faced with the prospect of losing her son when I was ill with an unknown ailment as a child. She bargained for my life, and I recovered. Then she paid the debt with her own life.”

  “If you say so,” Liv said in that same cold tone. “Or maybe she was just old and senile. Who knows what she was thinking.”

  “All right. Fine. Question my mother’s sanity if you will. I have questioned it myself. But then you have your ex-boyfriend’s parents. They murdered their own son in some twisted ritual to . . . what? Offer a blood sacrifice to the demon?”

  Liv shook her head. “No. They thought they were offering the sacrifice to God, just like it said in the Old Testament. The idea was that God would intervene and stop them. But clearly He didn’t, because they killed Steve. So they must have assumed their faith wasn’t strong enough. Or perhaps they believed God had forsaken them. Whatever it was, it pushed them off the deep end. Can’t blame them, I suppose. If you weren’t crazy to begin with, killing your child is gonna push you over the edge. There’s no coming back from that.”

  “That is my point,” Hakeem said, glancing at the closed bedroom door and back at Liv. “What guarantee do we have that one of us does not get to that edge, to that line?”

  Liv blinked as she tried to understand the Sheikh’s question. “Are you seriously wondering if Caleb is safe with me? I’m his mother! I carried him for nine months! I breastfed him! I bathe him, dress him, feed him, love him! If anyone should be worried, it should be me about you!”

  “Calm down. No one is accusing anyone of anything. I am just saying there is something at play here, and neither of us can yet make sense of what happened in that house a year ago.”

  “Neither of us can make sense of anything,” Liv shouted, not sure why she was shouting. Suddenly she was angry, pissed off, mad as hell. She wanted him out of her apartment, out of her sight, out of her damned life. But she also wanted . . . she wanted . . .

  “Your parents,” the Sheikh suddenly said, his face going calm as if he’d thought about this before. “Did they have another child? Before you?”

  Liv frowned and then shook her head. “No. I’m an only child.”

  “Are you sure? No previous marriages? Illegitimate children?”

  Liv snorted. “We lived in a town the size of this neighborhood. Everyone woulda known if something like that had gone on.”

  The Sheikh was quiet for a moment. “How about abortions? Miscarriages?”

  Liv shook her head vigorously at first, but then a chill went through her as she thought back to a conversation she’d had with her mother, when she’d asked about how she and her dad had met, when they’d gotten married, when they’d had her.

  “My mom was raised Catholic. No way she’d have had an abortion. But a miscarriage . . . that’s . . . that’s possible. They didn’t have me until three years after marriage, and back in those days, in those communities, you were pretty much having a kid nine months after your wedding night.”

  “So if it took them three years to have you, then there’s a chance there was a failed pregnancy before that,” the Sheikh said, taking a step toward her in a way that sent a shudder all the way down to Liv’s bare toes.

  “You’re saying that in a way my parents may have sacrificed a child too.”

  “That is the pattern, is it not? The pattern of this demon that has connected us all. Remember, demons are imposters, pretenders, fakers. They don’t enter a person by intimidation and force. They enter through manipulation and trickery. This demonic presence tricked your ex-boyfriend’s parents into thinking they were serving God, that they were re-enacting the story of Abraham and Isaac from the Old Testament. Who’s to say we are not being manipulated in some insidious way—perhaps in a way that we are not aware of yet.”

  Liv frowned as she looked into the Sheikh’s green eyes. His skin still looked unusually smooth, as if he’d just been shot up with Botox. Although he was speaking earnestly, there was almost no change in his expression. Liv had seen this with some of the people her parents had tried to help. Those were the people they sometimes turned away, saying they weren’t ready to be helped.

  “So, what are you saying, Hakeem? That this demon is still with us? That it wants . . . wants our son?!” She gulped and took a breath. “And that one or both of us is being insidiously manipulated into giving it our son?!”

  “It is possible,” the Sheikh said, nodding slowly as he glanced at the bedroom door and then back at Liv. “We have never spoken of it, and I understand why we have not. But it is time we were honest with one another: What was the choice we made in that house one year ago? The choice that ultimately saved our son’s life and ended the lives of those two murderers?”

  Liv blinked and then closed her eyes. She shook her head, her lips trembling as she allowed herself to go back there. She knew the cho
ice he meant. It seemed insane now that she thought about it, but at the time it was real. They’d made the choice to take their son’s life in the hope that the decision would somehow save their son’s life! It was a paradox, a riddle, a test of faith. The only question was whether they’d passed the test or failed it. It seemed like since Caleb was alive and safe and the bad guys were dead, they’d passed, that God had intervened just like He did with Abraham. But the Sheikh was now saying that perhaps it wasn’t over. Perhaps this was still part of the demon’s game, the demon’s seduction, the demon’s trickery: Play God. Gain trust. Then take your reward.

  “You think all of it is part of this demon’s strategy? That the pattern is still playing out? The game isn’t over yet?” she said, still frowning as she studied the Sheikh’s smooth brown face, his cold green eyes. “But why? If it had that much power, why not let us kill Caleb? Or let them kill Caleb?”

  “Why even have them bring Caleb to that house after they kidnapped him from your apartment?” countered the Sheikh, smiling in a way that almost scared her. “Why not just kill him right there? Or in the woods? Or in any of a million places? Why bring him all the way to us?”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” Liv stammered, backing away as the Sheikh took a step toward her.

  “What did your parents tell you about the demonic? Why do they take an interest in human affairs?” he asked, his tone hardening.

  “Because . . . because they hate God?”

  The Sheikh shrugged. “That is the religious interpretation. But demons do not target just the religious people. Not to mention that every religion and mythology has its own version of demons. Many of the stories involve a fall from grace and a hatred of the divine. But not all the stories. So, with all respect to both our religions—Islam and Christianity—perhaps the true answer lies in simple science. The simplest explanation is often the correct one.”

  “And so what’s the simplest explanation for this twisted mess?”

  Hakeem cocked his head, a half smile forming on his dark red lips. “That these entities we call demons want nothing more than to experience life in the flesh. They simply want to play with human bodies, with human minds, with human beliefs. It’s a game for them. And so perhaps the only way to deal with it is to play the game with them.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Liv said, realizing she’d backed her way across the living room and was now up against the far wall as the Sheikh advanced on her.

  “I am talking about countering trickery with trickery, manipulation with manipulation, rules with a loophole. If our resident demon wants our child, then we will give it our child. A new child. It wants a child’s life, does it not? So we will give a child new life! We will give the demon a child's life, not its death!”

  “You’re insane,” Liv said as she stared into his eyes. “You’re trying to trick a demon by using a technicality, a play on words? Are you going to have your lawyers sit down with Satan’s lawyers and argue about verbiage in the goddamn contract?”

  Hakeem raised an eyebrow even as he touched her hair and stroked her cheek, sending a shiver through Liv as she felt her nipples stiffen beneath her loose green blouse. “Is that a lawyer joke?” he grunted.

  Liv gasped as the Sheikh touched her bare neck, slowly running his hand down the front of her breasts, teasing her hard nipples with the back of his hand. “I don’t know if it’s a joke,” she muttered, her mouth hanging open as she glanced down at her own cleavage, the sight of the Sheikh’s large hands slowly closing around her breasts making her wet beneath her black tights.

  “It is all a joke,” Hakeem whispered, kneading her breasts until she arched her back and moaned out loud. “And we are going to join in the joke, play the game, dance the dance.”

  “You’re insane,” she groaned, leaning her head back and raising her arms so the Sheikh could pull her top off. She didn’t understand why she was letting him touch her, but she also knew she didn’t want him to stop. “People have been killed. People have died. And you’re saying it’s all a joke? A game? A dance?”

  “Yes. Now dance with me,” he whispered, popping off her bra and then pulling her body against his, taking her right hand in his and twirling her around the living room like he was drunk.

  Liv swooned as she felt a strange energy pass through her, and it was all she could do to simply hold on to the Sheikh’s hard body as he spun her till she was dizzy, dipped her till she almost threw up, twirled her until she didn’t know which way was up.

  “Hakeem, stop,” she muttered as she felt woozy from the motion. “This isn’t right.”

  “There is no stopping,” he growled against her, and when she fluttered her eyelids and managed to focus, she saw that he had somehow undressed and was stark naked, his cock sticking straight out like a post, its shaft thick and glistening, its bulbous head dark red and shining in the yellow light. “We are making a new child. And this one is for our demon. We will be one family. One happy family. Always and forever.”

  Then he grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her, hard and with authority. He kissed her deep and long, his tongue almost going down her throat as she struggled, gasped, and then simply gave in and kissed him back.

  28

  The Sheikh felt the energy in the air as he kissed her, and he growled with satisfaction when he felt Liv struggle as he gripped the back of her neck. The resistance made him hard, and he felt the dark energy flow between them as their tongues intertwined like two snakes.

  He twirled her through the room, the two of them dancing to silent music, nothing but the sounds of her gasps and his grunts filling the air as he clawed at her ass, rubbed her mound, kissed her so hard he knew she’d have bruises on her lips by the morning.

  “What’s happening?” she muttered when he broke from the kisses long enough to let her breathe.

  “We are completing the pattern once and for all,” the Sheikh answered. He spoke with a confidence that surprised him, because certainly he wasn’t sure what was happening either. Demons, angels, exorcisms, possession . . . what had they really seen and heard at the end of it? Had they seen a horned creature with the hooves of a goat dancing through the hallways speaking Aramaic? Had they heard the harps of angels? Had they felt the wrath of God in a thunder-clap? It could all be in their heads, for all they knew. Beliefs handed down from parents to children. Ya Allah, it probably was all in their heads, and that was why this was the only way out. This was the exorcism.

  “The pattern,” Liv whispered, leaning her head back, her eyes closed. “You want to give our demon a child?”

  The Sheikh nodded, grinning as he felt his eyes flash as he met her gaze. She was getting it, wasn’t she? Yes, she was! “You see, do you not? Whether the demon is real or not, the pattern is real. And so we will play it out. The demon wants a child’s life, and so we will give it a child’s life! A new life!”

  “That’s so ridiculous I can’t even comment on it,” Liv murmured, but she was smiling too now. The Sheikh could tell she was understanding that this was a game. It was all a game. So why not enjoy it? Dance with the devil, yes?

  “It makes perfect sense,” Hakeem said, caressing her hair as he studied the soft contours of her pretty face. He could already see the child in her, the child she would give him, just like she’d given him Caleb. “Either the demon is real or it’s our imagination—our shared imagination. But in a way there is no difference, yes? So let us assume it is real and have fun with it! The demonic energy feeds on guilt, fear, and negativity. So we will turn our backs on all those emotions, embrace joy, optimism, and life instead of grief, pessimism, and death! The demon wants the life of a child, and we will take the meaning literally and create life! We will end the pattern of death with life! End the pattern of darkness with light! End the pattern of guilt and fear with joy and love! That is exorcism, yes? Yes, my love?”

  “Your l
ove?” Liv said, laughing as he grabbed her hand and twirled her once more. “Oh, you love me now? When did that happen?”

  “It happened the moment I saw you in that house,” the Sheikh said, grinning as he felt his heart fill with the very joy he’d spoken of before he even understood what he was talking about.

  “So that short black skirt worked?” she said, gasping as the Sheikh pushed his face between her breasts and kissed each one, licking her nipples and then sucking on them until they hardened in his mouth.

  Hakeem couldn’t answer because all the blood had left his head to fill out his throbbing cock, and he dragged his woman down by her hair, his face still between her boobs.

  “Spread your legs,” he commanded, pushing her down on her back and holding her wide hips flat against the carpet. He could smell her scent come through her black tights, and when he touched her crotch he could feel her wetness oozing through the Spandex.

  The Sheikh ripped her tights open down the front seam as she spread for him. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, and the sight of her opening up for him almost made him come all over the carpet as his tongue hung out like a hungry beast in heat. He breathed deep, reveling in her feminine musk before pushing his face between the tatters of her tights and driving his tongue into her cunt.

  He felt her come all over his face as she pushed her hips up into him, her cries of ecstasy sounding muffled because the blood was pounding so loud in his ears. He fucked her with his tongue as she came, moving his upper lip across her stiff little clit as she bucked and flailed beneath him.

  Then he pulled her up off the floor, flipped her over, and without a moment’s hesitation drove his cock into her slit from behind and beneath.

  29

  Liv swore he’d spread her more than she’d had to spread to give birth, and the suddenness of the way the Sheikh had flipped her over and pushed himself into her made her come again even though she was still coming from how he’d eaten her out like a goddamn animal. His words still swirled through her mind as he took her with long, powerful strokes, his beast of a cock driving so deep into her she thought she could feel it in her throat.