“Come.” He spoke quietly, with that firmness that was utterly inherent to who he was.
Olivia thought of making a snappy comment about manners, but she didn’t. Instead, she walked beside him, her eyes trained ahead, every fibre of her being concentrated on not seeming at all affected by what had happened between them the night before.
When they reached the lift, two of his agents joined them. Their presence made it impossible for Olivia and Zamir to speak until the doors opened into his private suite of rooms.
Then, Zamir turned to face her slowly. His expression, when he looked at her, was loaded with emotion.
“Do you know why I am here in America?”
Olivia shook her head, then unhooked her handbag and placed it onto the table by the door. “I presume it has something to do with the place in the desert.”
“Yes,” he agreed on a sigh. “It has everything to do with it.”
God, he was weak. The whole time he’d been with Ra’if, all he had been able to think of was this woman. This woman with her beautiful body and transfixing face; and her natural manner. Now that he was alone with her, he wanted her. Not just her body, but everything. He wanted her to stay, until he tired of her. He wanted her to be with him until he got over this maddening obsession. He wanted her to take away the pain he felt seeing his brother in such a state.
Olivia shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Curiosity was burning through her, but she didn’t dare push Zamir. She knew that he would only speak when he wanted to. That her questions would not help him to open up.
“My brother Ra’if is being treated there.” The words were heart-wrenching, as though torn from his body.
Olivia kept any reaction from her features. “Treated?” She prompted after a small pause.
Zamir ran a hand across his chin. “Come.” He nodded towards the interior of his suite, and Olivia followed him. Memories of the previous night were impossible to ignore, for both of them, but Zamir continued as though he didn’t vividly recall how good her skin had felt beneath his palms.
“For several years now, Ra’if has struggled with life.”
Olivia nodded, though his statement was so vague she couldn’t possibly get a clear understanding of what he meant.
“He has been burdened from our youth with the pressure of inheriting the throne.”
Olivia sat and crossed her legs. “You are to inherit the throne,” she pointed out. It was not, after all, a secret.
“Yes.” A hiss. A sound of frustration. “Ra’if cannot. He does not wish it. And even if he did … our people would never accept him. He is seen as weak and volatile.”
Olivia studied his face. “Is he?”
Zamir’s laugh was a harsh sound. “No. But he is a drug addict, Olivia. Even if he recovers, he must avoid situations that will be stressful to him. Ruling Dashan requires strength and robustness.”
“Which you have in spades,” she surmised.
He closed his eyes. “I am the man I am today because of Ra’if.”
She didn’t say anything, and Zamir continued, “When our mother died, I was heartbroken. Ra’if held me together. He became my parent, in many ways. Though only a little older, he took care of me. Far better, as it turns out, than he did himself.”
Olivia felt her chest compress. “I’m so sorry, for both of you.”
His eyes glittered in his face. “Yes, I am sure you are.”
She couldn’t make sense of his statement, so she ignored it. “What is your brother’s prognosis?”
Zamir joined his fingertips together and rested them beneath his chin. “They do not give much away. I only know that this rehabilitation facility is considered to be the best in the world. And that I will stay until he is seeming more like his old self.”
“You don’t have duties back home?”
His lips lifted in a small smile. “My father is Sultan. He is still able to perform his role. When I return, I will take over a far greater share of his work. For now, Ra’if is my responsibility.”
Olivia felt an almost-overpowering desire to pull him to her. To wrap her arms around his powerful chest and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But she didn’t. How could she? She didn’t know that it would work out for Zamir’s brother. Nor did she have any right to comfort him.
“Last night …” His eyes met hers, and the charge of electricity that bolted through her made her core tingle.
“Don’t,” she murmured, shaking her head slowly.
“I must.” His smile was self-deprecating. “I feel an enormous, crushing sense of guilt and worry. It is not an excuse to have behaved as I did towards you, only I hope you understand that I needed to put Ra’if from my mind.”
“It’s okay, really,” she said, standing awkwardly.
“No.” He stood as she had, and he towered over her when he came to stand right in front of her. He put a finger beneath her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “I cannot lie, Olivia. I think you are … a very desirable woman. That had nothing to do with Ra’if. But I would not normally act on those feelings. Not with someone like you, and not under circumstances such as we find ourselves in. It was an error in judgement, and I hope you will forgive me.” He cleared his throat. “I hope you will continue to work for me, while I am here.”
Her heart was racing. Her mouth was dry. She nodded. “Of course.” He found her desirable. He hadn’t just been looking for meaningless sex. He had wanted her.
“Good.” His fingers were still on the sensitive flesh beneath her chin. Her body, of its own accord, leaned forward imperceptibly, so that her breasts brushed against his chest.
Zamir’s eyes flashed with awareness at the contact, and Olivia felt a thrill of adrenalin. Common sense was being drowned out by the strength of her own desire.
“Do not tempt me, Olivia Henderson,” he warned darkly. “I found it hard enough to let you go last night. I am not my usual self at the moment, and I doubt I have the strength to resist you.” Contrary to his statement, he turned away from her. “I cannot give you what you need. I would end up hurting you.” His shoulders were locked with determination.
Olivia felt as though she was walking a tightrope. Balancing high above the earth; every step brought with it a risk of free-falling. “What do you think I need?”
Zamir exhaled slowly. “Not to be used by me.” He angled his head to stare out of the window, and Olivia had a clear view of his profile. It struck her that he was unfailingly autocratic. Even then, clearly under emotional pressure, he was strong and defiant.
“You said that last night. I’m interested in why you’re so sure you’d be using me.”
They both heard what she hadn’t said. She was speaking about the possibility of a relationship between them, and in doing so, she was admitting that she too was tempted.
He planted his hands on his hips. “I could never offer you more than this.” He turned around slowly, his eyes heavy as they met hers. “Soon, I will return to Dashan. I will become Sultan, and I will one day marry a suitable princess to breed more security into our line of succession.” He was thoughtful. “While I have no doubt you’re someone who is open to … shall we say, a more casual relationship … I do not think I would be comfortable taking what you have to offer knowing that it would purely be a question of convenience for me.”
Olivia’s temperature spiked. Her arms were covered in goosebumps. She swallowed nervously. “You think I’m into casual relationships.”
“Undoubtedly.” His smile was a weak imitation. “And I do not judge you for it.”
“Oh, good,” she murmured, though a weird, unpleasant pain was scratching at her chest.
“What you do in your personal time, and who you’ve slept with before me, is not relevant.”
“Before you?” She repeated, her cheeks pale.
He nodded. “If we were to do this.”
“We’re not,” she said quickly, but her body was experiencing a delicious tingling of anti
cipation.
“No. We’re not.” He took a step closer. “Unless you change your mind.”
“And if I do?”
His smile now was pure sensual seduction. “Then we shall see.”
Olivia shook her head. “This is crazy.” She took a step away from him. “I should go.”
Zamir’s sigh was pulled from the depths of his soul. “Yes. You probably should.”
She smiled at him, but she was distracted. “Thank you for trusting me enough to talk about your brother.”
His brow furrowed. Until that moment, he hadn’t thought of it in those terms. But he had trusted her. He had opened up to someone for the first time in a long time, and it had felt good.
“Olivia …”
She was at the door. God, but she was an angel, with that hair she insisted on pulling into a bun, and the tantalising curves that no clothes could disguise. She turned to face him, her expression an inquiry.
“Go and sleep. I have grown … accustomed to our midnight tête-à-tête.”
And though she wasn’t prone to blushing, she felt a hint of pink warm her cheeks. “Yes, sir.” She said with a cheeky smile, and he was absolutely certain that she exaggerated her already distracting swagger as she walked towards the lift.
She was a witch!
The tension between them was at simmering point, and yet, for a full week, they continued as though they were little more than a somewhat dysfunctional employer and employee. Without fail, he called for her every night, so that they could drink tea and talk for hours, as though they were old friends. With Olivia Henderson, Zamir forget that he was His Royal Highness, Exalted Sheikh of Dashan. He was simply Zamir.
And though they spoke of casual subjects, keeping away from anything serious or personal, he came to understand her. He knew that she had a façade as a fun-loving, wild, free-spirited woman, but that she was someone who felt things deeply. He knew that she had assumed the role between her sisters as peace-keeper and soothsayer, but that she secretly dreaded the possibility that they might lose their closeness. He knew that she drank tea when it was too hot, and that she constantly scalded her tongue. He knew that she liked to sing but had a terrible voice, and he knew that she had hundreds of people she considered to be ‘friends’. And though she’d never spoken of past lovers or boyfriends, she spoke often of males in her life, men who meant a lot to her, and who she’d presumably had relationships with. And every time she threw one of their names into conversation, he felt a tightening of envy.
His initial concerns, that Olivia deserved better than the meaningless sex he could offer, was becoming eroded by the fact that she’d indulged in that kind of relationship with other men.
Why should it not also be him?
Only Zamir was a man of honour, and he had promised her that the next move would be hers.
“You know,” Olivia said one evening, her legs curled up beneath her, and her fingers wrapped around the fine bone china mug, “you told me you’d be my most demanding client. I have to tell you, I think you’re the easiest I’ve worked for.”
He raised a brow. “In what way?”
She pulled a face. “Besides going to the clinic with you, I have no other duty. I spend time here. Talking to you. Drinking delicious tea, which, if I’m honest, I’m completely addicted to.”
He laughed softly. “I’m disappointed you find it so easy to spend time with me.”
“Are you? Why?”
Honour be damned. He placed his cup down and stood. Her eyes lifted to his face and Zamir held her gaze as he crossed the carpeted floor. He knelt before her. “Because it means you are not finding it difficult to resist me.”
She swallowed, and the sense of relaxation evaporated completely.
He put his hands on her legs; they stiffened beneath his touch. “Do you not feel what I do, Olivia?”
Her breathing was fast; he could see her chest moving quickly in time with her rapid inhalation and exhalation.
“I …”
“Do you not look at me and wonder?”
“Wonder?” She repeated, feeling dumb and mute.
“Do you not wonder if this chemistry will translate into truly incredible sex?”
“Zamir,” she groaned, and dipped her head forward. Her forehead brushed against his chest, and he breathed in deeply the sweet smell of her hair.
“I said I would leave it to you, but I have waited, and you have not crumbled. If you do not want me say so now. I do not think I can resist you for another night.”
“God,” she whispered, her voice tremulous.
“My dreams are tormented by you. You are all I think of. Do you feel it too?”
“Yes,” she said finally, but the confession cost her. She pulled her head back and stared up into his eyes. She saw triumph there, and relief too.
He stood and held his hands out. When she put hers in them, he pulled her to standing and then lifted her, cradling her against his chest. He carried her to his bedroom – a sanctuary she had never thought of entering – and placed her gently onto the enormous bed. It was soft and cloud-like beneath her.
Zamir brought his body down on top of hers before she could say anything, and he kissed her, pressing her head into the mattress. She groaned and lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. Her whole body was charged with a new voltage of electricity. She pulled at his shirt, as she’d been longing to for over a week, and she cried against his mouth as her fingertips connected with warm, naked flesh.
Zamir ground his hips against hers, making her aware of his powerful erection. Olivia arched her back, and he kissed the flesh of her neck, teasing her with his tongue, tormenting her body with his fingers. He pulled his own shirt from his body and threw it across the room. Olivia could only stare at his glorious naked chest. Ridges of muscle formed an impressive wall, and he was caramel brown all over. A line of hair ran between his pectoral muscles down to his belt.
Olivia’s fingers were shaking as she tried to undo it. On instinct alone, she was acting as she felt.
Zamir was impatient. He took over from her, removing his belt and his pants and stepping out of them. He was naked but for a pair of black boxer shorts.
Olivia was anxious suddenly. What exactly was the etiquette here? Should she tell him that far from indulging in casual relationships, she had never done what they were about to do? She could hardly have said.
“You’re really, really gorgeous,” she said, and then laughed awkwardly at the words that had just bumbled out.
His smile was rich with amusement. “I suspect you know the feeling is mutual.”
“You think you’re gorgeous too?” She teased.
He laughed. “Of course.” He kissed the tip of her nose, and it was a gesture of such sweetness that her heart turned over painfully in her chest. “I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. That cemented it. Olivia was fighting a losing battle. How could she not risk falling in love with Zamir? Especially when he was speaking so sweetly, and making her body feel as though it were buzzing with the power of a million light globes.
She sucked in a deep breath and put her hands on his chest. “I have to tell you something.”
He was instantly alert. Something in her manner betrayed the seriousness of what she was thinking. “Go on.”
Only Olivia felt him pull away, and it dawned on her quickly that he might not make love to her if she told him. That he might not want to rid her of her virginity. He was already concerned that she would not be happy by the limited relationship he could offer. If he knew that they were breaking new territory for her?
He would undoubtedly stop.
Olivia pushed a smile to her face and lifted her head; her lips chased his. Against his mouth, she whispered, “I really, really, really want this.”
He exhaled a breath of relief. “Me too.”
Her clothes were discarded swiftly. He felt like he’d been waiting a lifetime for
her. His hands ran across her body with wonderment. She felt so much better than he had imagined. He parted her thighs and held himself at her entrance. “You are sure?” He said, giving her one final opportunity.
And though there was an emotion he couldn’t comprehend in her face, he saw her nod, and he moved into her swiftly. He was large, and she was tiny, but she was so tight he had to slow himself down. “You are nervous?” He whispered, kissing her earlobe.
She nodded again, and he held her tight, thinking that she had a sweet vulnerability he had never encountered before. And then he felt a barrier. An unmistakable gate to his total possession of her. He lifted onto his arms so that he could see her face, and he saw pain there. He saw pain and he felt a slashing of anger and regret.
“Olivia,” he exhaled, but she had relaxed, and her hands were running over his back; she was arching her hips, pulling him in deeper, and he moved gently, carefully, slowly stoking her body to a passionate frenzy.
Only he wanted to own her, and he had to move with caution. He had to put her comfort ahead of his own needs. He dared not risk hurting her. He watched as she reached climax, and he spoke soothingly to her in his own language, for he knew she was being overwhelmed by the new sensations. But he didn’t stop. He watched her fall apart, and he didn’t let her relax. He kept moving, reigniting the flames until she cried out with the intensity of her feelings.
And then he allowed himself to possess her as he wanted. Hard and fast, he moved as though the devil was at his heels. He kissed her and he took her nipples into his mouth, sucking and rolling them with his tongue. She dragged her fingers through his hair, and when they exploded together, she was almost sobbing from the strength of the union.
Zamir held Olivia until reality began to intrude, and he felt her breathing returning to its normal rhythm. And then he pushed up from the bed, leaving her cold and alone.
“How could you not tell me?” He demanded, his expression thunderous.
Olivia stared at him, her emotions haywire. She knew only that she hadn’t wanted him to stop. Everything else had been a blur. She lifted herself onto her elbows, so that she could see him more clearly.
The Sheikh's Convenient Mistress: What he needed from her went well beyond the call of duty... (The Henderson Sister Series Book 2) Page 5