My Arabian Billionaire (In Bed with a Billionaire): A Desert Sheikh Romance

by Marian Tee

  And still, he stared at her.

  And it hurt.

  So, so much.

  A tear escaped, its wet trail burning her skin, and mortification ate her alive.

  “If you’ve changed your mind,” she snarled, “then just---”

  He cut her off, his voice quiet as he spoke her name. “Harper.” And as she broke off, trembling, staring at him in mute hurt and anger, the sheikh’s arms opened.

  “I missed you,” he said so very simply.

  And before she knew it, she was already crying, running to his arms –

  His arms closed around her, and everything was alright again.

  Khalil’s hand actually shook as he stroked her back. “I’m sorry.”

  As she hid her face against his chest, she whispered, “Did you change your mind?”

  “Yes.” She flinched, and his arms tightened around her. “You misunderstand. It’s not the way you think. I want to marry you. That’s never changed. But seeing you now, knowing what you’ve gone through and how it can only get worse – it made me realize just how much you will suffer if you marry me.”

  Cupping her face, he made her look up at him, saying grimly, “Being my wife and queen won’t be a walk in the park, qalifa, especially for someone like you.”

  She stiffened. “Because I’m a commoner?”

  He shook his head. “Because no matter how you try to pretend it’s not so, you have the softest heart, Harper Griffiths. And people are bound to break it again and again when you marry me.” His chest heaved. “So knowing that - will you still marry me?”

  Fear of the unknown squeezed her heart, but more than that she felt…joy, and with it came a certain kind of knowledge, of intuition – this was what she was meant to do, for better or for worse. And so she whispered, “It’s what I came here to do.”

  Chapter Nine

  The sheikh asked for her father’s blessing that same night, and after a private talk with Harper, a still slightly stunned Howard had given it. A logistical discussion then followed, with her father eventually agreeing to move into the palace with her and take up an official position in the sheikh’s government. After, the sheikh walked to her door, and when she looked up, he slowly shook his head at the mute question in her eyes.

  “I don’t think I can control myself if I’m alone with you.” His voice was flat.

  “I see.” She bit her lip.

  “You are worried about something.”

  “Does my being a virgin really matter so much?”

  “It is one of the requirements of the law.”

  “I see.” She knew she was being redundant, but it was the only thing she could think of saying, with the rest of her busy struggling against the wave of pain that came with her words.

  “This disappoints you,” the sheikh observed.

  “I’m not sure…how I feel about it.” Because what if she wasn’t a virgin? Didn’t that mean she wouldn’t have registered on his radar at all?

  “You are wasting your time dwelling on hypothetical questions.” His words had her blinking in surprise, and the sheikh said simply, “You are easy to read.” After a moment’s hesitation, he slowly reached for her hands and brought them to his lips. “Just think of it this way, qalifa. Fate has decreed you to remain a virgin for me. Can you not be satisfied with that?”

  No, Harper thought. What she really wished for was the impossible. She wanted him to say that he would still have chosen her, even if she weren’t a virgin. But that couldn’t be, could it? For only a man in love could say such things – and this man, for all his desire, for all his trust and respect of her, did not love her.

  And so in the end, Harper only forced a smile. “I guess I can try.”

  The sheikh pressed his lips to her hands. “It will be good between us, Harper. Believe this. Believe in me.”

  “I…do.” More than I should.

  Releasing her hands, he pulled her into his embrace, and she went to him willingly. He kissed her hair, murmuring, “Good night, my Harper.”

  It was his first time to call her that, and her toes curled. Oh, this man was too good at exploiting her weakness. My Harper, he had said. It was too, too sweet, and yes, it was enough to dispel the hurt that came with his earlier words.

  “Good night, sheikh.”

  She felt him smile against her hair. “Do you not think it’s time you call me by my name?”

  Harper thought about it, tried to imagine her saying his name, and she just…couldn’t. He had always been the sheikh to her, and to have that change overnight was ---

  “Impossible,” she muttered.

  The sheikh sighed. “And you would think that, of course.”

  “Maybe next time,” she hedged.

  “I would like to say that you sound very convincing, but you do not.”

  She pulled away, grumbling, “Do you have to have your way with everything?”

  “Is it too much to ask for my bride to call me by my name?”

  And because she was feeling contrary now, she said hotly, “Yes, it is!”

  They stared at each other.

  A moment later, they were smiling.

  “We will have a good marriage,” the sheikh declared.

  Harper couldn’t help laughing. “You’re crazy.”

  “But you believe me. Nem?”

  She wanted to lie, just to be contrary, but looking into his dark eyes and seeing the soft gleam of tenderness in it, she realized she couldn’t do it. And so she mumbled, “Nem.” And then she quickly got inside her room and slammed the door on his face.

  Harper leaned against the door, face flushed, heart swaying.

  God, that had been embarrassing.

  But it had also been true.

  She did believe him.

  Even though they didn’t love each other and came from different worlds – no, universes…

  She believed him. They would have a good marriage. She would damn make sure of it.

  Wedding preparations commenced the very next day, and Harper was immediately caught up in a whirlwind of activity. There were countless fittings to attend, names and faces to memorize, and then there were the rules.

  There were so, so many of them, and worse was how they sometimes clashed against each other. There were rules in Arab culture that did not agree with certain customs distinct to the kingdom of Ramil. There were rules observed in Islam that were not known to Christians. And those just made up the tip of the iceberg, and it didn’t help at all that Harper’s court tutor was adamant that she would not only become familiar but proficient with them as well.

  In the other part of the palace, the sheikh continued to receive daily reports on Harper’s activities, and reading it had become his private source of enjoyment. Her impressive progress in engaging in political and economic discussions he already expected, but what pleased the sheikh the most was how Harper never voiced a complaint to him even when her court tutor meted out punishments like she was no different from an ordinary pupil.

  The day before the wedding, Harper made her first official appearance outside the palace as the sheikh’s future wife and queen. It was to be a quick visit to the American embassy, and rather than Khalil, she would have Sheikh Altair as her escort.

  It was a test, of course, and Harper knew and accepted this.

  The sheikh called her while she and Altair were still on the road. “Nervous?” he asked.

  “To the point of throwing up,” she said shortly.

  “Is there anything I do to ease your anxiety?”

  Only one thing came to mind. Maybe an hour of making out? Her face turned red, and she coughed. “Nothing.”

  “But it seemed that you’ve already thought of something.”

  “Nope.” Shit. Why did her voice sound so squeaky?

  “I do not believe you,” the sheikh said huskily. “Tell me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. Okay?” She heard him start to speak, but this time she didn’t let him. One quick press
of a button, and the call had ended.

  “Did you just hang up on Khalil?” Sheikh Altair, who was seated across her in the limousine, asked her curiously.

  Harper grimaced. “Kinda?” But she had no choice. Khalil would’ve seduced the truth out of her if she hadn’t.

  “You know he will not let you get away with that.”

  “Yup.” Her tone was half-glum, half-resigned, and Altair smiled. Most women would have been downright terrified, but Harper Griffiths was once again proving herself different from the rest. If she could be this brave with the king, Altair thought, then she should have no problem dealing with the rest of the world.

  And Altair was right.

  Although Harper’s knees threatened to buckle when it was finally her turn to address the crowd at the embassy, she only allowed herself a quick prayer and several deep breaths before she began with her speech. A small part of Harper expected herself to choke and stammer, but the words flowed out smoothly. And as she gazed at the deployed soldiers in front of her, men who willingly risked their lives for love of country, she remembered her own father, and it was in that moment the words she had merely been reading from a piece of paper became words that came from her heart.

  The time you spend away from your loved ones alone makes each and every one of you a hero. The world may not know this, or they may forget it is so, but we won’t. We will always remember, and we thank you for this. Our future is made safer and brighter because of you.

  A resounding applause followed the end of Harper’s speech, and she flashed an awkward smile before quickly turning away to blink back tears. God, but why was she so quick to cry these days? Either there was something wrong with Ramil’s air or it was an inevitable occupational hazard of being queen.

  “You did good,” Altair said as they headed out of the embassy.

  “Hmph.”

  Altair smiled. Although he hadn’t spent as much time with Harper as Khalil had over the years, he was not unfamiliar with her contrary ways, and this, he knew, was simply her way of hiding her embarrassment.

  When they got back to the palace, the first thing she saw was the Emir Sheikh, waiting for her by the steps. He was dressed in a white thobe, his dark hair covered by his headdress, and oh, how her heart raced at the sight of him.

  As soon as she stepped out of the car, the sheikh opened his arms, and she flew into his embrace like a homing bird.

  “You made me proud today, my Harper.”

  “Hmph.”

  But the sheikh only smiled. “You are cute when you’re embarrassed.”

  She immediately pulled away. “No, I’m not.”

  But the sheikh was already speaking to his cousin, thanking Altair for accompanying Harper to the embassy. And then they were walking away, the sheikh holding her hand, and she bit her lip hard. Gaaah. He was just holding her hand, and it was already making her heart beat so.

  How shallow could she get?

  Harper was perplexed when she realized they were heading to his office. “Do we have a meeting?” These days, those were the only times that the sheikh allowed himself to be in her company.

  “No.”

  Harper’s confusion deepened even as she allowed the sheikh to usher her inside. As the door closed behind her, she turned around, asking, “Then why---mmph.”

  The sheikh had captured her mouth in a deep, hard kiss, and when she got over her shock she eagerly kissed him back, her arms going around him just as he swept her up in his arms. She expected the sheikh to bring her to the couch, but instead she found herself being laid on his desk, her legs dangling on the edge.

  Harper immediately sat up as the sheikh reached for the hem of her abaya. “What are you doing?” Her voice had turned into a squeak as the sheikh pushed her abaya, together with the dress underneath it, all the way up to her waist.

  After, the sheikh glanced at her. “Your reward.”

  “My what?”

  A second later, the sheikh went down on her.

  Oh. My. God.

  She immediately fell back against the desk.

  What. A. Reward.

  She had no idea how he had known that this was what she wanted, but she wasn’t complaining. Harper felt his tongue stroke her against the wet cotton, and her entire body shuddered. Definitely not complaining.

  Chapter Ten

  The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear, just one day shy from Khalil’s one-hundredth day reign as king. Everyone who had been invited came to attend the event, with a record number of foreign leaders showing up, all of them curious to see firsthand what Ramil’s new queen was like.

  Even the sheikh’s sort-of ex Sapphire had accepted the invitation and came with her rockstar husband and too-cute son in tow.

  Normally, having to rub elbows with such figures would have worried her to death, but Harper had more pressing thoughts in mind. That would happen follow the reception, and when it was time to go, Harper was a quivering mass of nerves. Although her white sleeping robe covered her from head to toe, she still felt terribly exposed.

  Some of her anxiety must have communicated itself to the sheikh as the moment she reached his side, pale-faced and trembling, the sheikh asked right away, “Are you certain of this?”

  No. Of course not. How can one be certain of this?

  But instead, she lifted her chin and forced herself to smile brightly. “A promise is a promise is a promise.”

  His lips twitched. “Your love for redundancy is delightful as ever, qalifa, but…” He paused. “That doesn’t answer my question.” He took her hand, and his brows pleated. “Your hand is cold.”

  “That’s n-normal.”

  “Not when you live in a desert.”

  Oh. Right.

  “There is still time to change your mind,” the sheikh began.

  Harper shook her head vehemently. “No. I promised, okay? And there’s no point to us marrying if we don’t do this so---” She took a deep breath before saying in a rush, “Can we please just get it over with before I lose my guts and change my mind?”

  There was a moment of silence – and then the sheikh tightened his grip on her hand, saying simply, “Thank you.”

  They walked in silence from there, the sheikh leading her down a maze of hallways, and her heart swayed harder and harder with every step they took.

  Oh my God, it was really happening.

  She had never thought to ask where that would happen and so Harper was stunned to realize that their destination turned out to be a vast chamber in the palace’s secret cellar, with its walls consisting of viewing screens in which people outside could peer into the room but not the other way around.

  Pausing before the doors, Khalil turned to Harper and his jaw clenched at how much paler she looked now. “I’m sorry you have to do this.” And as soon as the words were out, he realized that he didn’t like it. Anything that could make his normally brave Harper look frightened, he didn’t fucking like at all.

  To hell with the consequences, the sheikh thought grimly.

  “I’m sorry for going this far with you, qalifa.”

  She quickly shook her head. “It’s not like you have a choice.”

  “But I do. And that’s why I’m choosing to forego this.” He took her hand, his grip tightening as he said harshly, “There are far better ways to establish your legitimacy as my queen. So we’re leaving---” He turned away, intending to take her with him, but instead Harper stayed put, her hand tugging on his and forcing him to look back.

  “Harper?”

  “I told you, didn’t I? I gave you my word, and I intend to keep it.”

  He shook his head. “There is no need---”

  “I mean it. I want to do this.” And she really did, more than ever. If they didn’t complete the wedding ritual as the law asked of them, Harper knew it could jeopardize his claim on the throne. And yet he had still chosen to turn his back on the ritual.

  For her.

  “Harper.” A muscle was ticking on th
e sheikh’s jaw. “Do you truly understand what you’re asking?”

  “Not really, but---” A rare, tentative smile touched Harper’s lips. “I trust you.” And a moment later, he saw her close her eyes just before leaning against him, suiting action to words, trusting him implicitly, and the sheikh sucked in his breath.

  How in Allah’s name had he deserved a woman such as her?

  His arms wrapping around her, he kissed her hard before muttering against her lips, “I will take care of you, wife.”

  And then he was carrying her inside the chamber.

  Harper didn’t open her eyes as she felt him lay her on the bed. A rustling sound followed, the sheikh pulling the covers above them, and just as the world became a shade darker, she felt his fingers grazing against her body, untying the stringed straps of her dressing gown. She squeezed her eyes more tightly as the silk slid down her body. In a blink of an eye, she was naked, and after a few moments, so was the sheikh.

  His weight pressed down on her, his formidable solidness more reassuring than frightening. It made her feel safe and protected, and she molded against him willingly.

  His lips touched her softly, and she sighed just as her lips parted.

  As they kissed, the sheikh drew the covers down, revealing his bare back while his arms covered the sides of her body. All that could be seen of Harper was her face and her bare shoulders. He deepened the kiss as he slowly rubbed his body against her. The head of his phallus nudged her clit repeatedly while its length slid back and forth against the already-wet folds of her pussy. The sheikh bided his time, patient and determined to give her so much pleasure that she would forget people were watching them.

  It took a while, but finally the sheikh heard her whimper, felt her nails scrape down his back, and he raised his hips. “Open your legs for me, qalifa.”

  Her body shook, but even so she obeyed his command, her silky legs parting in welcome. The head of his phallus entered, and she gasped softly. He kept it at that for a while, wanting her to adjust to the feeling of his penetration, but when she started to writhe, he pushed his penis further in, until he was halfway buried into her.