by Sue Swift
How could he, in all honesty, conceal this disaster from his family?
He couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, this event was of sufficient magnitude that after Hunter broke the story, it would be picked up by the major wire services. Though Zohra-zbel was a tiny country tucked high in the Atlas Mountains of north Africa, the news would surely reach his homeland.
Best to tell his father in person, rather than allowing him to learn of it second-or third-hand. Considering the possible consequences, Kamar winced. Heaven only knew how the king would react. The desk job and the veils would be minor repercussions; nevertheless, he had to be honest with his father and brother. Then everyone could consider how best to manage the situation.
Reaching for his ever-present cell phone, Kamar began to make arrangements to return to his country the next day.
Chapter Thirteen
After Kam left, Selina pushed still-damp hair out of her eyes and tried to wrap her mind around the situation.
She was married.
Still fuzzy-brained from her nap and the stunning news that Kam had delivered, she stood on shaky legs and wandered to her bathroom. She stared into the mirror at her wan face, flushed with a little sunburn and more than a little fear.
She was married. To Kam. To Kamar ibn-Asad, prince of Zohra-zbel. People magazine’s sexy sheik.
A giggle escaped her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. If she stifled herself, maybe she could stifle the hysteria rising inside her.
She was married.
She took a deep breath, expelled it, then another and another. As oxygen flooded her, she calmed. She felt the floor beneath her bare feet, the coolness of the marble countertop under her palms.
She’d be okay. This wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to her, not remotely. No one had died. No one had attacked her. No one had thrown her out of her home. She had a place to sleep. She had Grandpa Jerry. She had a job and a nice studio apartment. She was okay.
And to prove it, she was going to put on her best dress and get some dinner. Just because Kam was a wimp about this and was going to hide out in his suite didn’t mean that Selina would hide. Even though the news had twisted her guts into a knot, she was going to get dinner.
She didn’t want to take the time to dry her hair, so she put the damp mass on top of her head and secured it with a clip. She found the red feathery dress and slipped it on, then headed out.
She didn’t see Jerry anywhere, which bothered her a little. He was usually there for her, and without Jerry and Kam, who’d been her companions while at La Torchere, she felt a little bereft and at loose ends.
She went to the seaside lounge, where Janis tended bar. Choosing a couple of cashews from a bowl of mixed nuts, Selina waited until Janis had finished with other customers.
“Mazeltov.” Janis reached under the bar and withdrew a bottle of champagne. “I heard you tied the knot today.”
“Um, thanks.” Selina crunched a nut between her back teeth to hide her extreme discomfiture.
“Where’s the groom?” Janis popped open the champagne and poured Selina a glass.
Picking it up, she shrugged. “Primping for the wedding night, I guess.”
Janis grinned. “Life surely is interesting. I could have sworn when the two of you met, you couldn’t stand each other.”
“He’s nicer than he seems at first glance,” Selina said lamely.
“Must be. Hey, I have an idea. There are little bowers—secluded clearings along the shoreline—with cabanas, hammocks, the works. One would be perfect for your wedding dinner. I can have a server take the champy to one and also bring you two lovebirds a nice meal.”
“That sounds great.” Selina realized that she needed to be alone. The gossip had already spread to Janis, which meant that if Selina hung around the bar, she probably wouldn’t have a quiet moment to herself away from Marta Hunter and, probably, a lot of other people. “Um, if you see Kam, just point him toward me, okay?”
Taking her champagne flute, Selina followed a server to a foliage-shrouded nook at the farthest end of the beach near the mangrove forest. With a view of the setting sun, but surrounded on three sides by the lavish gardens typical of La Torchere, the bower provided the privacy she needed.
She waited for the server to set up, watching patiently as he put the champagne on ice, brought a glass for Kam and arranged a tray of appetizers. After the server disappeared, she sank down on the sand, ignoring the food and the wine.
She was married, a fate she’d never sought, not since her stepfather had attacked her and she’d developed an aversion to men. Oh, she dated. Danced, touched, kissed. But she’d never had a normal, fulfilled relationship with a man.
And somehow, she’d married the sexy sheik.
“If I ever get my hands on Merry Montrose,” she muttered. Did Montrose’s employers know the old witch meddled with the love lives of the resort’s guests? Well, if they didn’t, they sure would after Selina wielded her poison pen. Hunter had nothing on Selina when she had her temper up.
But that wouldn’t change anything.
She was married. For good or for evil, richer or poorer, in sickness or in health…as the sun set and the stars emerged, the traditional language rolled through her mind.
Rising, she picked up her champagne flute and regarded the moon, riding high and full in the heavens above. Cold and barren, it seemed a fitting companion for Selina on her loveless, phony wedding night.
She lifted her glass to the moon. “To me.” She sipped.
“To my marriage.” A bitter laugh broke from her throat.
She refilled her glass and lifted it high. “To love. Whatever that is,” she mumbled.
Love. She sat heavily on the sand.
Would she ever know what other women understood? Would she ever fall in love, wear white lace, speak real wedding vows? “Not likely,” she murmured, pressing the cool glass against her cheek.
Her work, her friends and her family would have to be enough.
Rebellion rose inside her. Why? Why did she have to be different?
Stop deluding yourself, Selina. You know why.
She remembered what Jerry had said. “If you don’t get over it, they win.”
She didn’t want Donald and Audra to win. That would suck. They didn’t deserve to win. They didn’t deserve anything.
“I deserve to be happy, dammit,” she said aloud, glad she was alone on the beach. She didn’t need anyone to see her toasted and morose, but she figured the occasion called for toasted and morose.
She refilled her glass and drank more champagne.
She was married.
Her groom was nowhere in sight.
Nor was anyone else in her family.
She wasn’t in love and probably never would be.
Her husband didn’t love her and never would.
“Well, life is just a bowl of cherries, and I have found the pits.” She gulped champagne, feeling the bubbles inside her throat, scratchy with unshed tears.
Releasing a burp, she giggled, and again was thankful that no one else was on the beach.
How had everything fallen apart? First her father had died. Then Audra had married Donald-the-molester. Then… Selina remembered Donald’s hands, scrabbling at her breasts; his breath, heavy with beer, clotting her nostrils.
Despite the night’s sultriness, she shivered. Jerry had tried, but it seemed as though nothing could warm the void inside her, empty and chill as the pale moon above.
She was never happy. At best, her most cheerful feelings were…a blank. A big nothing. She felt as though she went through life half-present, with a part of herself, the happy part, lost, gone, forgotten.
She’d forgotten what joy felt like, until this last week.
Kam.
He was a great guy and, dammit, they’d had a chance. Now that frail little chance was blown to smithereens. Thoroughly spooked—and with good reason—he’d get an annulment, and she’d never see him again.
&n
bsp; The slight breeze brought her a drift of sound. Music, faint and sweet, from the bar band.
She dropped her glass in the sand and rose, running her hands up her body. The feathers on her dress fluttered against her fingers as she stretched her arms above her, reaching for the moon.
Closing her eyes, she let her body sway to the music of the band, the soft splash of waves caressing the shore.
Then she recognized the tune. “Unforgettable.”
“No,” she whispered, covering her face. She didn’t know if she could stand to hear it again. The song was forever tied to her memories of Kam, his seductive kisses, his knowing hands, the warmth in his dark eyes.
Tears rose hot behind her lids, but as she was falling apart, strong arms wrapped around her, holding her together. Without opening her eyes, she sensed Kam’s heat, the potency of his embrace, his particular scent that recalled spice and mystery.
His lips touched her closed eyelids, then her cheeks. She knew he’d kissed away her tears. Tasting their saltiness, he chose not to speak of her pain or of anything else, instead holding her close, enveloping her. Warmth grew to heat and then to pleasure, a pleasure heightened by the increasing sensuality of his kisses. He moved from her cheeks to her mouth. She opened to him, seeking the bliss she always found when they kissed.
Her mind stopped, time dissolved, and the world shrank. Nothing existed but Kam’s lips on hers, his hands on her body, caressing her into a sensual oblivion.
He slid his fingers into her hair, drawing her head back so he could stroke her throat with his lips. The sensitive skin along her neck loved his mouth, his tongue; every tiny hair on her body prickled in response. Dotting little kisses along his jawline, she pressed her chest against his, seeking the tingling pleasure of her nipples pushing against his solidity.
His hands stroked down to her shoulders, fingers slipping beneath the straps of her dress. She let it drop to her elbows so she could feel her naked breasts against him. She rubbed back and forth, liking the sensation.
But it wasn’t enough. She reached for his linen shirt and tugged at the buttons, baring him to the waist.
Though she knew what she’d see, she opened her eyes to look again.
The muscled planes of Kam’s chest were silvered by the moonlight, the tips of his dark nipples gleaming. On impulse, she laid her palms against them, the little nubbins hard against the flats of her hands.
He groaned and, with his hands on her hips, slipped off her dress and eased her down to the sand where they knelt, facing each other.
She’d never been naked with a man before. A little embarrassed, she crossed her arms over her chest before deciding she had nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, it was nighttime.
She stared, taking him in: the black hair, with its subtle waves reflecting the moonlight; eyes dark pools, mysterious and compelling; smooth, muscled shoulders and torso. Kam was beautiful, perfectly formed, the way nature intended a man to look.
He still wore his pants, and she thought, what’s fair is fair, right? She reached for the drawstring.
Selina’s eyes were wide, glittering with womanly knowledge and a purely female readiness Kamar hadn’t yet seen in her. Her skin glowed, damp with humidity and passion.
Reaching for the drawstring of his pants, she tugged. They loosened, dropping to his knees. He heard the quick gasp of her indrawn breath, and he smiled, knowing he’d pleased her.
He would take what she offered, and give her everything she wanted. He bent his head to her nipples, feasting on the tight buds, salty and sweet, then moved to the fragrant hollow between her breasts. Inhaling deeply, he sighed from sheer delight.
She was wonderful, beautiful, better than anyone, even better than his heated dreams of her. The reality of Selina giving herself to him surpassed anything.
He urged her back so she lay flat, then, remembering her past, decided not to crush her beneath his body. Rather, he’d delay his pleasure to give her the release she needed.
But he couldn’t resist another kiss from her lush mouth, another nibble on her throat. He slid his tongue down the midline of her body, with quick digressions to her breasts. When he plunged his tongue into her navel, she gasped and giggled, saying her first words of that night, “Don’t tease me.”
He smiled. “All right.” He separated her bent knees. He kissed along her tender white thighs to the feathery curls that hid her female core, then took her with his mouth until she moaned and writhed.
Every cry of joy shot him higher, but he waited for her to lead the way. She reached for him, trying to pull him to her, but he rolled so they lay face-to-face in the yielding sand. She flung one leg over his, giving herself to him. He reached for her bottom, letting his hands sink into the soft rounds until the muscles of her buttocks flexed against his palms.
He brought her closer, so close that he prodded her opening, but still he wouldn’t take her. She had to take him, risking that last, ultimate, intimate step.
She did, and when he pressed inside her, he found heaven, a damp, tight nirvana. Selina hadn’t lied; her narrowness told him that she hadn’t had a lover recently. But he couldn’t stop.
He reached between their bodies to caress her, and her gasp dissolved into a throaty moan that spoke of nothing but lust. Wet, she opened to him, admitting him freely. Lips to lips, chest to breast, joined completely with her, he let himself fall into the infinite bliss of Selina’s love.
Chapter Fourteen
Chilled to the bone, Selina awoke to see the earliest light of dawn reaching pale fingers across the gray sky. She stretched, feeling sand scratching her back, a new soreness between her legs and Kam’s arm across her chest, weighing her down.
Kam…oh, dear Lord, what had she done? She’d had unprotected sex with a man she hardly knew, the fake husband of her phony marriage, a man with an international love-‘em-and-leave-‘em reputation, a card-carrying Peter Pan par excellence.
She could be pregnant. She could have AIDS. How could she have been so stupid?
She wiggled, trying to squirm out from under his arm without waking him. The last thing she wanted was to have to talk with Kam about what had happened. If she was lucky, she could sneak back to her room without Grandpa Jerry or anyone else being the wiser. Maybe if she didn’t talk with Kam, she could pretend that their night on the beach never happened. If he brought it up, she could laugh, tease him about his vivid imagination, and tell him he’d had too much to drink.
Then she’d see a doctor, take a morning-after pill and get checked for STDs. That was the responsible thing to do, wasn’t it? And it was about damn time she behaved responsibly.
Okay. First things first… Where was her dress? Turning her head, she spotted it a few feet away.
She slid sideways in its direction, and Kam’s arm slid across her chest. His fingers opened, then closed over her breast.
Selina froze in place.
Kam’s eyes popped open. “Ixzit. What have we done?” He peered at Selina, who pulled away and jumped to her feet.
“Uh, uh…n-nothing really.” She backed away.
A viscous liquid dripped along her thigh. Looking down, she saw brown smudges streaking her skin. Mortified, she closed her eyes, though shutting out the world wasn’t even a temporary fix.
So much for plan A. Faking that nothing had happened last night was out.
She needed a plan B. Running could work. “Excuse me, please.” She reached for her dress, but before she could get it, Kam was on his feet and grabbing her elbow.
“You were a virgin.”
She twisted, breaking his grip. “Yeah. So?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You could have told me.”
“I did tell you.” She turned her back to face the ocean. Kam could look at her naked butt, but not the rest of her.
“No, you didn’t. You said that you don’t sleep around because you had some bad experiences. I assumed that you were celibate, not untouched.”
“So d
on’t make assumptions. Besides, what difference should that make?”
“We can’t get an annulment.”
He still wanted to leave her. A dull ache started beneath her sternum, spreading to encompass her heart. Though surprised, she ignored it. “We can’t get an annulment because we had sex, not because I was a virgin.”
“We made love,” Kam said. “We didn’t have sex.”
She shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.”
“I thought you were an honest woman. Now I understand that you and your grandfather planned this all along, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“He proposed this ridiculous engagement idea. Then you led me to city hall. How did you get Hunter to show up and ask about the marriage license?” He grabbed her by the shoulder, jerking her around to face him. “How much did you pay her?”
She batted his hands off her. “How dare you!”
“You’ve trapped me. Or so you think.” He raised his head, jaw tightening. “Zohra-zbel may be a small country, but we have some power. You will not get away with this deception.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she snapped.
“There was no deception. Look, no one forced you to come down here last night.”
“The bartender said you were here,” he said. “What was I supposed to do, ignore you on our wedding night? Word would have gotten back to Hunter.”
“I should have guessed. Can’t you do something nice without an ulterior motive?”
“You’re a fine one to accuse me of having ulterior motives.”
“No one forced you to have sex with me. I was here, minding my own business—”
“You were crying.”
She didn’t want to be reminded of her weakness, so she turned away and walked to the shoreline, letting the smallest waves lap at her toes.
“I was concerned for you. When I saw you weeping, I had no thought but to comfort you.” He barked out something like a laugh. “I have never before been affected by a woman’s tears. They all had seemed contrived, but you…” He shrugged. “You did not know I was watching. Your sorrow was real.”