The Sheikh's Bride of Convenience (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 15)

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The Sheikh's Bride of Convenience (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 15) Page 3

by Cara Albany


  They clung onto one another for a long moment, as if hardly believing what they were doing, let alone where they were. The forbidden aspect of it merely added spice to an already intense, arousing moment.

  Then he began thrusting into her, deeper and deeper each time. He felt as if he could hardly contain himself. The sensation of her locked around him almost drove him to insanity. But it was a beautiful insanity.

  Each thrust sent spasms of ecstasy coursing through every part of his being. He pressed her back against the glass wall, imprisoning her with his hunger, possessing her with his need.

  Each time he pushed into her, she groaned, holding onto him. He didn't want her to ever let him go.

  She was his and nothing was going to deny him.

  She curled one leg around his, pulling him hard against her, grinding herself against him. He knew what she wanted. She was searching for the same relief as him.

  Thrust after thrust sent shockwaves of sensation rippling through him. He felt his own ferocity well up, a need a powerful as anything he'd ever known in his life.

  "Qazim!" she gasped as he pressed his mound against hers, triggering waves of pleasure.

  Then he felt her tighten even more around him and he knew she was close to her peak. He didn't want her to reach that summit alone. Not this time.

  He pushed into her, wanting to be completely inside her when they reached their ecstasy.

  Then, with a final thrust he clung onto her, burying himself deep. She cried out, clutching onto him. Then he felt himself empty, felt her clench onto him.

  They both held onto each other. Every muscle in Qazim's body strained as he held her, wanting her to be a part of him forever.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Much later, Grace woke beside Qazim. Once again, she was in his bed. It was still dark. She had no idea just how long she'd slept.

  Memories of what had happened out there on the balcony flashed across her mind. She sighed quietly, anxious not to awaken Qazim who was sleeping right next to her.

  She turned onto her side, facing away from him. What had happened on the balcony had been impulsive, crazy and exactly the opposite of what she'd intended.

  She felt a brief surge of irritation. At herself, not at Qazim.

  There was nothing she could blame him for. He had just been acting on his natural instincts, his obviously true feelings for Grace. Surely she should be pleased that he still felt that way about her. Even though she was sure he'd noticed how uneasy she'd been all evening, he still wanted her.

  For Qazim, their relationship was just as it had been. Nothing had changed, as far as he was concerned.

  Hadn't he been even the slightest bit curious about what had been troubling her? She knew he could be insensitive, even self-obsessed at times, but she'd expected that, at least, he might have held back until he'd found out what was on her mind.

  But, out there on the balcony, Grace's mind had just about deserted her. Her body had taken over, just like it always did.

  Maybe this was how it would always be.

  She felt like something had taken control of her life. Or someone.

  Qazim.

  Was that why she needed to run out on him? Was that why she felt this relationship was getting too serious?

  All of that didn't seem to matter to Qazim. His feelings for Grace were obvious. His passion for her was impossible to ignore.

  Grace crinkled her features in the darkness.

  No.

  She wasn't pleased with that realization. It made things way too complicated. She had not come here tonight to confirm that he felt that way about her.

  After the time on the balcony, they had inevitably come to his bedroom. They had continued where they had left off. And, as usual, it had been incredible.

  Grace chided herself for being so weak. What was it about Qazim the made it almost impossible to turn her back on him?

  It wasn't necessarily to do with his incredible wealth, his astonishing looks, or the force of his personality. All of that would have been enough for most women.

  But there was something else, and it was that which made her feel the fear she had been experiencing these past couple of weeks. Ever since the doubts had started tugging at her, Grace had started to consider ending this crazy, insane, wonderful relationship.

  Because she had to.

  It was the idea that she could have any kind of future with this man, she'd told herself over and over. That she and Qazim could even have the slightest chance of a future together.

  That was what frightened her.

  She wasn't sure why, but when she thought of being tied down, even with someone like Qazim, that thought filled her with dread. A feeling of being confined. That was why she loved her job so much. She could work hard, be independent and keep everyone at arm's length.

  Just the way she'd always preferred it.

  That strategy had worked fine these past few years. The downside was that her relationships had been brief and unsatisfying.

  But there was one problem with that strategy. Something which had become crystal clear these past few weeks.

  That didn't make sense, she told herself, when it came to a man like Qazim.

  Qazim was simply the most incredible man she had ever met. Any woman would have been happy to be drawn into Qazim's world. To become all he could think of.

  Because Grace realized she had become exactly that. The entire focus of Qazim's present life.

  Qazim had made it pretty clear that Grace was all he could think of every waking moment. She had taken over his present life.

  And of his future?

  She wasn't sure about that last part, but it certainly seemed as if Qazim had some serious intentions towards her.

  Once again, that thought triggered unease, a familiar impulse to get up and leave. The sensation was like a hard knot in her stomach.

  Grace knew she had to at least tell him it was over. She owed him that, at least. She wasn't about to sneak out in the middle of the night. There would be no walk of shame tonight, she told herself.

  Grace felt Qazim shift slightly. She sat up, tugging the thin, white bed-sheet up around her bare breasts. In doing so, she inadvertently tugged the sheet away from Qazim's naked body.

  Desire flared in her at the sight of his powerful torso, his long powerful legs. His firmness was completely visible in the soft light, partially ready for more, she realized. He looked amazing.

  Grace swallowed. This was what she was turning her back on? For a moment she thought she must be crazy.

  Qazim, still sleeping, shifted his arms lazily across Grace's thighs. She was sure he was about to awaken.

  Somewhere deep in his consciousness Qazim seemed to have become aware that Grace was no longer lying next to him. He opened his eyes and gazed up at her. Grace smiled nervously down at him.

  "Hi," he breathed. His voice sounded thick with sleep. He sounded exhausted. She thought about the strength of his lovemaking. No wonder he was tired, she told herself. He had almost worn her out with his insistent demands that she experience wave after wave of ecstasy.

  She hadn't put up any resistance to that. She'd allowed herself to be completely possessed by his ferocious, urgent need. And it had felt wonderful.

  "Hi, there," she replied. She clutched the bed cover tighter around her. He reached up and tugged it loose from her fingers. The sheet fell away revealing her bare breasts. Qazim's gaze brightened appreciatively. Grace just looked at him, feeling desire awaken, yet again, at her core.

  He was insatiable.

  How could she turn her back on this?

  But she had to, she told herself emphatically. This wasn't going to be easy.

  Qazim sat up and leaned closer. He kissed her mouth. His scent was instantly arousing. His lips were soft. The same lips had done incredible things to her body only a short time ago. The memory of that pleasure still echoed throughout her nervous system.

  Their lips parted and she gazed into his eyes, tr
ying to assess how he was feeling, whether he wanted more from her. She saw the flickering embers of desire in his dark smouldering gaze.

  She knew that if she didn't say something now, she may never get the words out.

  "Qazim, there's something I need to say to you," she murmured.

  His eyes widened and he smiled. "Let me guess. You want to tell me how amazing that was," he said lifting a brow mischievously. She was used to his self-deprecating sense of humor.

  Grace forced herself to not respond to that teasing remark. She shook her head. "No. That's not it."

  His brows lifted. "Didn't I perform up to my usual standard?" he joked. "Mmmm?" he added with a smirk.

  She peered at him and saw he wasn't been exactly serious. He was mocking himself, she concluded.

  "How modest of you," she responded, tilting her head at him and forcing a smile.

  "I wasn't brought up to be modest," he replied.

  "That's right." She smirked at him. "Sheikhs don't do modesty," she snapped back. She lifted her brow sardonically.

  Qazim shifted and leaned his head on the pillow next to her. She saw his gaze drift down the length of her body. He peeled the bed cover away from her lower body revealing her waist, her legs, and nakedness.

  She watched as he seemed to savour the sight of her body in a primitive and feral manner. "I see you don't do modesty either," he said.

  He leaned across and planted a kiss on her naked belly. Heat flared at her core. She glanced down and was tempted to run her fingers through the thickness of his slightly damp, dark hair. But she resisted that temptation.

  She had to keep a hold of herself.

  See this through.

  In spite of that, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the sensation of the kisses he was lavishing on her skin.

  It was almost as if he was consuming her. The way he had made love to her, right here in this bed, had made that quite clear.

  He did worship her. He had whispered quiet words to her, words of adoration, ones of possession. She had been too stunned to reply, even if similar thoughts had floated into her mind at the same time.

  Qazim lifted his head and gazed up at Grace. She told herself that he somehow sensed her nervousness. Had he already guessed what she was about to say to him?

  "What did you want to tell me?" he asked almost innocently, almost casually.

  She seized the moment. It was now or never. "It's about us."

  The words sounded heavy in the darkness and silence of the bedroom. There was a long pause.

  Qazim's brows furrowed slightly. His lips formed into a thin line. He sat up facing her. "Us?"

  Grace nodded. "About all of this," she said looking around.

  "What about it?"

  Grace sighed. "Don't get me wrong Qazim. It's been wonderful."

  He lifted up one brow. "And?" he said simply.

  "But it's all happening so fast." Grace heard the emotion in her own voice.

  He paused, peering at her. Then he said: "Isn't that a good thing?" He leaned slightly closer. "We connected, Grace. I would have thought that was important. Something we both want."

  Grace shifted, lifting the bedcover up across the front of the body. She felt suddenly cold. She saw Qazim watch her gesture with a calm, even stare.

  "I know, it has been wonderful, Qazim. I don't want you to misunderstand."

  His brows furrowed. "I'm trying to understand, Grace. But I'm not sure what you're trying to tell me."

  "Isn't it obvious?"

  He shook his head. "No. Haven't I given you enough?"

  "It's not about that," she snapped. "It isn't about you. What you've done for me."

  "Then what is it about?"

  Grace steadied herself. "This can't continue, Qazim. We have to stop this."

  There was a long silence. Had she been too blunt, too direct? The words had seemed like a hammer blow.

  Qazim gazed at Grace, his features frozen. He understood now. Suddenly and all too quickly, awareness had dawned on him. She could see that. It had taken an extraordinary bluntness to make sure he got the message.

  He opened his mouth, about to say something. Grace felt a sudden rush of emotion. Before he had a chance to say anything, she threw the bedcover away from her body.

  Grace slid off the bed and picked up her clothes from the floor. She faced away from Qazim as she put her bra and panties on.

  Qazim was still silent. While Grace tugged on her dress she thought about his reaction. She'd expected him to explode, do anything necessary to implore her to change her mind or even explain why she was doing this.

  But he had not said a word.

  She'd told him it had to stop, and he'd said nothing. That was unnerving. She'd have preferred it if he'd responded in any other way except with silence.

  She continued to get dressed. When she turned she saw he was standing at the foot of the bed looking at her.

  "You're leaving," he said in a flat voice.

  "I have to, Qazim," she said. She took in the sight of his nakedness, felt her heart quicken. He looked amazing, powerful and so incredibly tempting. She must be mad, she told herself, to even consider walking out on a man like this.

  But that was exactly what she was about to do.

  Qazim took a few steps toward Grace. He seemed blissfully unaware of his own nakedness. Perhaps he was doing that deliberately, she thought. Maybe he was trying to remind her of what she was rejecting.

  She searched for her shoes and found them by the side of the bed. She slipped her feet into them. As she twisted down, pulling on a shoe, she looked up at him. "This isn't going to work, Qazim. You know that as well as I do."

  "I don't agree," he said firmly.

  Grace peered at him and took a step toward him. "I'm sorry you don't see it the way I do," she said.

  Qazim gestured to the bed. "And this? Did this mean nothing?"

  His voice was deep and low, emotion-filled.

  "Of course that's not what I'm saying, Qazim. But we both know what's been going on between us."

  "And what is that?" he demanded.

  Grace folded her arms and tried once again to compose herself, she tilted her head still trying to ignore how the sight of this incredible looking, naked man was affecting her.

  Before she could say anything he advanced toward her. His muscles were taut looking, his masculinity a complete and utter distraction.

  "Habibti," he growled.

  There was that word again she told herself. She knew what it meant. Knew what it signified

  Beloved.

  His beloved.

  It is more than just a word. She knew that. It was a declaration, one step away from the ultimate declaration.

  And then what?

  Would he take the next logical step and ask another question which would turn her world upside down?

  "Qazim, don't do this," she pleaded.

  He came to her, his naked presence now overwhelming, filling her senses completely making emotions sweep through her. Then he started to reach out.

  Slowly.

  And she knew that if she let him touch her, let him hold her, let him kiss her, she would be lost.

  Before his hands reached her shoulder, she moved quickly away from him. She headed out the door and back into the main living space.

  She grabbed her clutch from the table next to the sofa and headed toward the elevator. She halted at the closed doors and wondered why they weren't opening.

  Then she remembered only Qazim could control the elevator.

  Only he would have full control so that she could escape his world.

  Escape this place. Escape him.

  How typical, she snapped herself.

  Always in control.

  Was that the real reason she was fleeing like this?

  To get away from a man who threatened to overwhelm her and take possession of every aspect of her life?

  Grace groaned and turned. She saw Qazim coming toward her. He was still nake
d, almost unashamed.

  "Can you open this for me?" she asked sharply.

  Qazim halted in front of her. He gazed at her for a moment. Their eyes met and they exchanged an unspoken understanding.

  There was final long pause, and then Qazim nodded. He went to the keypad by the door and punched in a sequence of numbers. The doors opened and Grace stepped quickly inside.

  She turned and looked at Qazim.

  It struck her that he didn't look defeated. She doubted if he would ever know what that felt like. Qazim wasn't one to admit defeat in anything.

  His gaze was steady and patient.

  "Goodbye Qazim," she said, not quite believing she was saying those words.

  He didn't say a word. And as the elevator doors slid closed, Grace knew exactly why Qazim hadn't responded. She knew him well enough to be sure that, as far as he was concerned, this wasn't going to be a permanent goodbye.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Grace was gone.

  Qazim stared at the closed doors of the elevator. He could hear the sound of the elevator car moving downwards, away from him, taking Grace with it.

  Qazim felt a heaviness in his gut. His breathing felt tight.

  She was gone.

  He didn't know how he'd let that happen. But it had happened, right in front of his eyes.

  Qazim turned away from the elevator doors and strode back into the apartment. It seemed so empty, now. The silence was almost like a physical thing which clawed at him as he stood gazing around.

  Everything had happened so suddenly.

  One moment he'd been lying alongside her, kissing her sweet body, inhaling the scent of their lovemaking. One moment he'd been the happiest man in the world.

  And then, she'd pulled the rug right out from beneath him.

  Her words still echoed in his mind.

  It was over?

  Just like that?

  He shook his head, defiantly unwilling to accept that.

  Qazim had to admit he had been initially caught off guard. One moment he'd been kissing Grace, believing he'd finally claimed her as his own.

  His beloved.

 

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