by Sue Swift
He stretched his arms above his head, deliberately showing off his body to his wife. Her eyes tracked his every movement, and he smiled. With luck, he’d bed her tonight, and there would be no more silly talk about divorcing.
His family would be happy, Selina would be very happy, and as for Kam himself…well, he’d known that he’d have to marry one day, so what was the difference?
His father was right. Selina was a nice girl from a good family. He’d been lucky to find a sweet, sexy American woman with a beautiful neck who was well educated and a virgin to boot.
Given what she had been through, she was truly quite amazing. He’d meant what he’d told his family. Selina was a terrific girl. He’d try to be open to loving her; she deserved that. She’d be a fine ambassador’s wife, and they’d have many good times together.
He said, “I’m planning the foyer of the ambassador’s residence in D.C.”
“Don’t you like what’s already there?”
“It is not grand enough. I want marble and pillars.”
“Are you crazy? Who wants to live with marble and pillars?”
Belatedly, Kam remembered that Selina would be living there, also. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re going about this the wrong way. We’re talking about a home, Kam, the place where we’ll live. Where our—” She stopped her quick mouth before she said, “Where our children will grow up.”
“Where our what?”
“Where our friends will visit. Why do you want to make it a cold, marble-clad showplace?”
“I want it to impress.”
“Intimidate.”
He stroked his chin. Selina couldn’t help noticing his strong, smoothly shaven jawline. She recalled dotting kisses along his jawline on their wedding night.
She ignored her memories and said, “Arrogant and pretentious.” She wagged her head with mock sorrow. “Have I taught you nothing?”
“I think I am being very nice to you.”
She smiled. “You are.”
He edged closer to her. “And I want to be even nicer.”
“But you have to think about being nice to visitors, don’t you?”
He looked baffled.
“Diplomacy is PR, remember? PR is all about being nice. Approachable. Friendly. Pillars and marble aren’t friendly. They’re the exact opposite of friendly.”
“Hmm.” Perhaps she was right. His father had also seen the connection between Selina’s work and the business of foreign relations. “What do you suggest?” he asked.
“The embassy can be the impressive showplace,” she said. “Let’s make this house a home, okay?”
Chapter Eighteen
“If we take it room by room, we can both have what we want.” Later that day Kam paced restlessly back and forth through the small living room.
She followed, wondering if he would wear a trail in the beige Berber carpet. “But the house will benefit from a unified color scheme. A plan. That way each room will flow into the next. I don’t want the house to look patchworky.”
“Boring, the pale colors you want.”
She’d been pushing for pastel peach and cream with teal accents. “Unified.”
“Dull, like this place.” Kam waved a hand. “Everything is the same. No soul.”
“If we go for the maroon and forest-green that you want, not only will the house be dark, but it will look like Christmas year-round. Yuck.”
“Strong, solid, masculine colors.” He winked at her.
“Maybe we should hire a decorator to help.”
“I don’t want my house to look as though a decorator did it.”
“It won’t, after we—it starts getting lived in.” She’d almost slipped again, implying they’d live together when she really hadn’t decided.
He smirked at her. The glint in his eye told her that the slip hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Especially if we have children.”
Jolted, she said, “Children? What about children? Who said anything about children?”
“We might have some. You know, Selina, you may already be pregnant.”
“I’m not. I went to a doctor to make sure.”
“You did? That was very smart.”
“You’re not upset?” She examined him, but his facial expression remained calm and open, tinctured with a little good humor.
“No. I have made sure I never sired a child. I don’t believe in out-of-wedlock babies. Bad for the family.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t known before that Kam, who looked and acted as though he was a Peter Pan to the core, had any interest in healthy families. She certainly hadn’t any inkling that he wanted one for himself. But she supposed he’d have to, wouldn’t he? He was a prince, and a main interest of royals was continuing their line.
With her aversion to men, she had figured that children would never be a part of her future. If she stayed with Kam, she’d have to change her plans. She didn’t know how she felt about that.
“But babies in general—” He spread out his hands.
His long strong fingers reminded her of their lovemaking, and how his hands had roamed her body, pleasuring her.
Ixzit. Here was that itchy, twitchy, needy feeling again. She suppressed it, but with more difficulty than before.
“I am in favor of babies,” he continued. “If two people are married, babies naturally follow most of the time.”
“Th-that’s true.”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“In favor of babies.”
“I’m…I’m not sure.”
“Best decide soon.” He smiled into her eyes, his intentions blatant. He meant to bed her, and soon.
Did he also intend to get her pregnant? Then she couldn’t easily escape their marriage. But now, with the two of them getting along so well, she didn’t know if she wanted to escape.
Besides, there was that itchy, twitchy need, grown big, constant and overwhelming, impossible to ignore. She fumbled for an answer. “Uh, okay.”
Was she ready for another intimate encounter with Kam? She’d enjoyed the first one, but the aftermath had been hell.
That night they ate at their villa, with Kam barbecuing lamb outside on a little hibachi they’d found in a storage space. “This is the way we cook in Zohra-zbel,” he told her, rubbing a spice mixture between his palms, then sifting the powders onto the sizzling skewers of meat. “Even in the palace, we will often light a fire in a courtyard and cook out in the open air. It is better so.”
Selina sniffed, the aromas reminding her of Kam’s distinctive, exotic scent. “What did you eat in England, when you went to school?”
He frowned, turning the skewers. “The dinners offered at school were execrable. I survived mostly on high tea and pub food. I ate a lot of finger sandwiches, grilled salmon, fish and chips, that sort of thing.”
“And beer.”
“Yes, beer. The British brew excellent beer. I shall have to take you to Cambridge,” he said in his precise accent. “And to my homeland, of course. Everyone is quite eager to meet you.”
“They are?” .
“Yes.” He smiled at her. “Despite what you may have heard about other royal families, ours is quite close.”
After they finished their meal with dessert and coffee, they walked, this time toward the dark, mysterious mangrove forest. At the water’s edge, the roots of the big, weirdly shaped trees plunged directly into the surf, so Kamar guided Selina inland, finding a path through the darkness. Little moonlight pierced the canopy of thick leaves and branches above them. After a few paces in, he took her elbow to lead her down the trail.
“Do you have good night vision?” she asked. “I can’t see a thing.”
Curious, he thought. He could see their path with ease. “Yes, I think so. I was not raised in a city, you see. My country is not heavily industrialized, so the nights are not brightly lit. I suppose because of that, my night vision remains well exercised and sharp.”
“That’s a theory, I guess.” She sounded dubious.
“As you Americans would say, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
She giggled, a girlish, appealing sound, and he swung her around to plant a kiss on her open, laughing mouth. She continued to smile as they kissed and touched, and his heart jumped a little.
Progress was being made. They’d had a perfect day, with the both of them collaborating on a very personal project: their home. Should he broach the subjects of their bedroom and the children’s nursery on the morrow?
Perhaps. But now they had the night, and everything he wanted to happen in the next few hours was so much more important than the color scheme of the master bath.
Selina was a smart woman. She’d shown time and again that he couldn’t deceive or bamboozle her. He didn’t know how to win her except through his love, and the only way he knew how to show her his love was physically, through lovemaking.
She deserved his best, and he would give that to her.
When they reached their villa, he began to kiss her more deeply. She didn’t resist; why should she? She’d always enjoyed kissing Kam, The physical part of their relationship had never been a problem.
“Mmm…” She let herself sink into Kam’s embrace, let him caress her lips with his, opened to him willingly. Followed his lead when he opened the door and eased her over to the couch. Let him press her down into the cushions.
Let him cover her body with his.
She’d thought that his weight would frighten her, but it didn’t. He didn’t feel like Donald, smell like Donald or taste like Donald. He wasn’t ripping at her clothes or forcing her the way Donald had.
Kam smelled and felt like Kam. Intimacy with her husband was an utterly distinctive sensual experience. She could never confuse him with anyone else. He tasted pleasantly of the crème brulée they’d shared for dessert, with a lovely bitter undertone of espresso.
She couldn’t get enough of him, and found herself twining around him like a vine on a tree, with the heat in her body rising to match his.
He broke away and whispered in her ear, his voice husky, “Do you wish to stay with me tonight, my wife?”
“I’m not sure,” she whispered back.
He feathered his lips along her neck, and she moaned. With an effort she controlled herself. “I just don’t want to mess up anything by rushing.”
He stopped. “You are right. We rushed before, and look what happened.”
“I know. I don’t want to mess up again. We have a chance, Kam, and I—”
“I know.” He placed a finger on her lips, and she opened her mouth and licked the tip. He groaned. “Stop that.”
He pressed his hips into hers, and his desire nudged, long and hard, at her most sensitive places.
She wiggled back and forth, rubbing him once, twice, three times. With each push, a jolt of pleasure rushed through her. Need tugged at her, insistent and demanding.
Kam’s sharply indrawn breath told her that she’d gotten to him. “You must make a choice,” he whispered. “If you will stop, stop now.”
“Maybe I don’t want to stop.”
“Be sure.”
“I’m sure. Are you? I don’t want to be accused again of forcing you.” She grinned at him so he would know she was teasing.
He smiled back. She was delighted that he understood. She had a husband with a sense of humor.
“I want to make love to you,” he whispered. “Very much.”
She swallowed and said, “Yes.”
She led him upstairs, to the bed that had seemed so broad and cold and empty the night before with only her slender body to fill it. Now Kam dominated the wide, white sheets, his body gleaming in the moonlight that streamed in through the open curtains.
She’d worn shorts for their informal meal, and he made quick work of them, tugging the elastic waist down over her hips while she pulled her T-shirt over her head. His mouth found her breast, and she moaned, pulling him closer.
She remembered from the last time, the first time, that blessed sense of completion she’d never before felt. She had to have it again, craved it with a clawing, desperate need she couldn’t, and didn’t want to, control.
A part of her prayed that tomorrow morning wouldn’t be a disaster, and then Kam’s mouth traveled lower, seeking her delta, and she forgot how to think, forgot everything except the insistent push of his tongue against her.
Chapter Nineteen
Two days later, on Friday morning, Selina awakened to a brilliant, sunshiny day, with golden light streaming in through the curtains. Beside her Kam slept, breathing deeply but not, thank the heavens, snoring. She didn’t know if she could tolerate a snoring husband.
She stretched, grabbing the headboard with her fingers while touching the bottom edge of the bed with her toes. A divine sense of well-being enveloped her; if she didn’t hold the headboard, she might float away.
How everything had changed! Two weeks ago she hadn’t met Kam, hadn’t an inkling that life could feel so good, that she could feel so good. And the best part of it was that she’d learned how to make someone else feel good, too.
Oh, not in the distant, fake way she always had. She’d been controlled and polite. But now she realized that her courtesy hadn’t stemmed from fondness toward others. Before Kam, she’d always kept people at arm’s length. Now she understood her deep need to give and to receive affection. Not mere friendliness but love.
He’d changed, as well, or maybe her perception of him had broadened. He’d catered to her needs for days, brewing her coffee in the mornings though he drank tea, noting her preferences in everything. His lovemaking had been tender and unselfish.
He’d lost the arrogance she despised. Though she admitted to herself it was more likely that with her instinctive aversion to men, she’d seen what she’d expected to see when they’d met, overlooking the essentials of Kam’s character. She now understood that he was a loving, caring man with a deep capacity to cherish the ones he loved.
He’d freely given her everything he had to give, and in so doing, had won her heart. Having known the joy of living with Kam, she couldn’t bear the thought of going back to her empty apartment and sterile future.
They would have a great life together, and she wanted to start that great life now. Nudging him with her elbow, she said, “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Rolling over, he rumbled, bear-like. “Why?”
“It’s late. I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”
He reached for her. “Hungry for you, my goddess.” He ran his fingers lightly along her side, tickling.
She giggled. “Not now. I’m a little sore.”
He sat up. “I hurt you. Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.”
She hastened to say, “It’s okay. We’ve just been, um, a little active lately. My body’s not used to it.”
He rubbed his face in her hair. “When will you get used to it?”
“I hope I never take you for granted.” She beamed at him. “Just to prove it, let me take you out to breakfast.”
She chose The Greenhouse Cafe, though Kam hadn’t been entirely happy about the service when they’d eaten breakfast there before. The server hadn’t been able to chase away Marta Hunter, and Selina looked around the crowded tables. No Hunter this time. Relieved, she sighed.
Kam seemed unaware of her concern, seating her, then taking a chair. He unloaded two newspapers and his cell phone, the same way he always did in the morning, then ordered his usual breakfast with the calm affability that she now believed was his usual state. He offered her part of the Washington Post, and they chatted amiably about the news of the day until their food arrived.
Then he said, “I understand you return to D.C. on the morrow.”
Her throat parched to a desert dryness. She’d guessed that this conversation would take place, but didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Picking up her water glass, she sipped to delay the moment of truth.
“Yes,” she finally said.
“Grandpa Jerry has the tickets. I’m…I’m not quite sure when we’re supposed to leave.”
Kam leaned back into his chair and regarded her, his dark eyes unfathomable. “Early, I should think. You must catch the ferry, then go to the airport, pass through security and so forth.”
“Yes.” She compressed her lips. To deflect him she asked, “What are you going to do?”
He spread out his hands, stretching his long, dark fingers. “I am going to go to Washington, D.C., and live with my wife in the beautiful home we will decorate together.”
She drew a breath, feeling it flow through her, grounding her. She said, “You say that as though it’s all decided, as though you own me.”
“Own you? That is the most ludicrous thought.” He leaned over the table toward her, dropping his voice. “It is you who possesses me. You are my goddess. You take me in, surround me, overwhelm me— you have become everything to me.”
His dark gaze bored into hers, intense and compelling. “I am not sure how it happened, but it did. I am yours, only yours, forever.”
The warmth of his affection enfolded her like an embrace. She reached for his hand, ecstatic. This was it. This was what she’d needed, what she’d been praying for, the security and love she’d craved all her life. “Say it,” she whispered. “I…I have to hear it. Please.”
He smiled and lifted her hand to kiss her fingers. At that moment his cell phone rang. Every one of Selina’s muscles tensed. Her temper flared. Annoyance flitted over Kam’s face, but he released her, flipped open the phone and answered in Arabic.
She stood. “Excuse me.” She took the phone from his grasp and said into it, “He can’t talk now.” Then she pitched the phone to the top of The Greenhouse waterfall.
It banged against a high rock ledge before clattering down the length of the fall. Other diners near their table applauded. “Nice pass, lady,” one shouted. “You should try out for the Raiders!”
She bowed. “Thank you.” She then sat down and grinned at Kam.
He leaned his chin into his hand, smiling. “That was my father.”
“Oh, my God.” She slapped her palm to her face. She’d probably offended her new father-in-law, a king, no less. “We’d better call him back right away. I have to apologize.” She fumbled in her purse for her cell phone. She hadn’t carried her purse the entire time she’d been at La Torchere, charging everything to her room. She had it today only because she planned to pay for their meal in cash. “Here, dial him up.” She handed her phone to Kam.