THE TRUE KING OF DAHAAR
Page 17
THE SOUNDS OF infants crying, loud and wailing, as he pushed the door of his suite had the king of Dahaar doing a double take and checking he had, indeed, entered his own royal chambers.
Confirming that these were indeed his chambers, he closed the doors behind him and leaned against them. The sight that greeted him stole his breath.
His queen, Dr. Nikhat Salima Zakhari Al Sharif, was kneeling on a centuries-old rug, cooing to the little infant with jet-black hair.
The baby cooed at her in return, his toothless mouth splitting into a grin. She changed his diaper, scrunched her nose and turned to his identical twin, who instantly kicked his legs and bestowed a matching smile on her.
“You know, instead of standing there, smiling at us, you could come here and maybe help, Your Highness?”
Laughing, Azeez pushed off the door and reached her.
He slowly sank to the floor, next to her, and picked up the first one.
His nephew didn’t smile at him as he did at his wife. He made a note to have his assistant block some time every week—even an hour—that he could spend with them. Nikhat was always helping out Zohra anyway, in addition to her clinic and her royal duties. His wife, he had discovered, was a bundle of energy, always on the go. Having been so close to his sister and the palace, there wasn’t a thing she didn’t know. Even his mother hadn’t been able to find fault with her. “Which one is this—Rafiq or Tariq?”
Shaking her head, Nikhat picked up the second infant. “How can you not tell? That’s Rafiq, older by a whole three minutes, and he totally looks like Zohra. He has her stubbornness, her temper.”
Azeez studied him and stole a look at the other one, seeing nothing but identical jet-black eyes like his own and not Ayaan’s copper-hued ones, jet-black hair and chubby cheeks.
She cuddled Tariq, and made unintelligible noises. Azeez’s breath stuck in his throat. His wife was a natural with babies, a fact Zohra seemed to be eternally grateful for, as she herself was struggling with postpartum depression.
Azeez had been so afraid for Nikhat the first few weeks after Zohra had delivered the twins almost three weeks early. She had been unable to sleep, always going over to see them, wanting to help Zohra, wanting to make sure the twins were okay. His heart had turned into a tight fist in his chest as he waited and watched, hoping and praying that Zohra, even if completely justified, didn’t push Nikhat away, or get possessive about her sons. He needn’t have worried.
Zohra’s heart, it seemed, was as big as her smile. She had welcomed Nikhat with open arms, had leaned on her for real help, overwhelmed by her still-suffering health and her loud, premature-born sons. “Whereas Tariq here is his father’s son. He’s rarely, if ever, fussy, and sleeps like a dream. Your mother said Ayaan was like that as a baby.”
“I guess she told you I was a terror, even as a baby.” Azeez mock frowned and rubbed his nose in Rafiq’s fleshy tummy. Little fingers instantly grabbed his hair and tugged hard.
She laughed and they spent a few more minutes playing with his nephews. Once they began to yawn, he followed her to the matching cribs she insisted on having in the second bedroom of their suite. An exact replica of the ones in Ayaan and Zohra’s bedchamber.
I want to be a real aunt, Azeez, and not just one that buys toys or plays with them for a few minutes. I want to help her.
When he had expressed concern about Zohra, she had smiled at him, tears shimmering in her eyes.
Zohra said growing up, she’d always had only one parent—either her mother or father—she’s glad that her little boys get two sets instead.
Swallowing away the sudden knot in his throat, Azeez followed her lead and laid down Rafiq. He waited as she fussed a little more, and neatly wrapped them up until they were snug.
Sighing, she stepped back and he instantly pulled her tight against him. The scent of her skin both calmed and aroused him, and he grew instantly hard.
She turned her head so that he could nuzzle into her neck and with a groan, he grasped her hips and pulled her into him. “I haven’t seen you in a week, wife. I don’t want to share you tonight with these rogues.”
“Ayaan is back from Siyaad. I thought it would be nice if they could have some quiet. And between Zohra and me and your mother, we don’t want to leave the children overnight with nannies unless absolutely necessary.”
Grabbing his hair, she angled her head and kissed him. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, laved her lower lip, waves of desire as intense as that first time, rolling through him like a fierce hurricane. “The rogues won’t be up for two hours, hopefully,” she breathed into his mouth. She turned on the baby monitors before closing the door behind her.
“How did the interviews go in New York for new doctors?” he asked as they reached their own bedchamber. He filled his hands with her lush breasts, the graze of her hard nipples against his palms sending him into a fever. He would suckle them until she made those little noises in the back of her throat, make her climax until she was sobbing his name again.
His name on her lips when they made love, her body all wrapped up around him when they woke, the way she met his gaze across a crowded room and smiled at him, the way she had burrowed into him and sobbed after delivering the twins, ya Allah, he loved everything about this woman.
She mumbled some answer, shedding her top first and then peeling off her leggings, revealing long, toned thighs that sent blood rushing from his head. They were too eager, too desperate for each other to indulge in foreplay. On his next breath, she pushed him onto the bed and straddled him.
Nothing mattered but the pursuit of release, of moving inside her, of pushing her toward her own climax.
They came together in a rush of heat and pleasure. He gathered her against him and kissed her forehead, the scent of sweat and sex and her filling his nostrils.
She drew maddening circles on his chest and he caught her hands in his. He kissed each finger, her palm, the underside of her wrist, trying to soothe her, waiting for her to open up and tell him what was on her mind.
Unlike him, she never said everything that came into her head instantly, her first impulse was to worry about it herself, as she had done for so many years. But they had learned each other now. She knew he would wait, as much as he could, and he knew she would come to him, if not as soon as he wanted.
She finally met his gaze, and his breath caught again at the vulnerability in those eyes, the trust she showed him, the love she had for him. “I saw some fertility specialists when I was in New York.”
His first instinct was hurt that she hadn’t told him. But he fought the sensation. He pressed his mouth to her temple, ran his hand over the dip of her belly and nudged her even closer to him. That he could not take away this pain from her was the most agonizing fact of his own life. He tugged her chin up. “My mother will never again ask you about this, ever. Do you understand?”
You’re a natural mother, Nikhat. Dahaar is waiting for its next crown prince.
A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and his heart ached. She laced her fingers with his and kissed his hand. “It was not her fault, Azeez. We should have told her. They are all going to ask.”
“I have had a discussion with my father and Ayaan. Once Zohra is a little better, we will declare Rafiq my heir, announce him the Crown Prince. If I could bear this pain for you, I would, habeebiti. Forgive me for wanting you, for being selfish enough to love you. That you face this question because of me—”
Her finger landed on his lips, her eyes glittering like rare gems. “It’s never far from my mind, Azeez. I had resigned to spend my life alone. You’re my strength, Azeez, my happiness. Tell me you believe that.”
“I do.”
She scrubbed her cheeks and rubbed her nose against his. “I went through a few more tests. The plan is to stop my medication and just see what—”
He sat up in such a sudden movement that his hip throbbed. “No.”
His answer resonated in the silence between them. Turning around, he lay down on his side and kissed her hard. The image of her writhing in pain, he never wanted to see that again. “I don’t want a child at the cost of your pain, Nikhat. This point is nonnegotiable.”
“We don’t know that it is even possible, Azeez. I have been on this medication for so long, it would be a good idea to just see how my body would react to other kinds.” Clasping his cheek, she turned him so he was looking at her.
A shiver traveled down his spine. Even after the attack, he had never been as scared as the night she had cried after Zohra had delivered.
“I want to try this for myself.”
He saw the resolve in her eyes and relented. “Six months.”
She rolled her eyes and pouted. “It takes even an average couple six months to conceive.”
“We are not average.” He loved the gleam in her eyes when she tried hard not to laugh. “We are the king and queen of Dahaar. Normal laws of procreation don’t apply to us.”
Looping her arms around him, she giggled against him, her soft body rubbing against him making him hard all over again. “Yes, Your Highness. You have magical sperm that will find my mythical eggs no matter where they are hidden, and penetrate them…”
Laughing, she fell onto his lap, her mouth curved wide, tears rolling down her cheeks.
He captured her lips with his, taking her smiles and her pain. She sobered up and clung to him, her body trembling. Drawing in a deep breath, he held her hard. “You are my life, ya habeebiti, my pride, my power, my laughter, my joy.
“One year, Nikhat. That’s all I will give you. I will not let this destroy you. I will lose the very will you brought me back if this takes you away from me. Do you understand?”
Nikhat gazed into the eyes of the most beautiful, the most honorable man she had ever seen. His embrace, his heart, his love, there wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t wonder at the miracle that it was all hers. She nodded and smiled. “I’m strong enough for this, Azeez. With you by my side, I’m strong enough for anything.” She lost herself in his kiss, basking in his love.
Whatever the future might bring, she had his heart and she would hold on to it.
* * * * *
Keep reading for a special excerpt from HEIRESS'S DEFIANCE by Lynn Raye Harris.
Ten years ago one devastating night changed everything for Austin, Hunter and Alex. Now they must each play their part in the revenge against the one man who ruined it all.
Austin Treffen has the plan… Hunter has the money… Alex has the power!
Read each of their stories in the captivating Fifth Avenue trilogy,
only from Harlequin Presents:
Avenge Me by Maisey Yates (June 2014)
Scandalize Me by Caitlin Crews (July 2014)
Expose Me by Kate Hewitt (August 2014)
And don’t miss the Fifth Avenue prequel that started it all, Take Me, by Maisey Yates!
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SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
Harlequin® Presents® welcomes you to the world of THE CHATSFIELD
Synonymous with style, spectacle…and scandal!
Read on for an exclusive extract from Lynn Raye Harris’s stunning conclusion
to this exciting eight-book series:
HEIRESS’S DEFIANCE
* * *
“YOU HAVE NO CONTROL over me, Christos, no matter what you think. Yes, you control The Chatsfield empire, and you control access to my trust fund. But you won’t intimidate me the way you’ve intimidated my family.” She walked over and put her palms on his desk, leaned over until her eyes were at the same level as his. She was all in now, her emotions whipped to a furious froth that had been bubbling for weeks, ever since this man showed up and started giving orders like a despot.
Christos’s eyes glittered. He stood very slowly, and Lucilla straightened. Even in her heels, she wasn’t as tall as he was. He looked down on her as if she were a bug beneath his custom shoe.
“You’ve been wanting to say that for a while, have you not?” His voice was mild, amused, and yet it also managed to be hard and unflinching.
Her heart raced, her skin heating from the inside out. Yes, she’d been holding it in and, yes, it felt good to finally say what she’d been thinking. But she also felt as if she’d committed an error. She’d admitted to the enemy that she cared very much about his elevation over her when what she really needed to do was be quiet and take him down from the inside.
“I have, indeed. You might be congratulating yourself on dispersing my siblings on your errands, but don’t think you’ll handle me quite so easily.”
His eyes slid over her then, and her stomach tightened. “I wouldn’t dream of handling you, Lucilla. But if I did, rest assured, you would do as I wished. And you would enjoy every moment of it.”
* * *
Step into the gilded world of THE CHATSFIELD!
Where secrets and scandal lurk behind every door…
Reserve your room!
December 2014
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books, S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781460341827
The True King of Dahaar
Copyright © 2014 by Tara Pammi
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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