The Sheikh’s Royal Wedding

by Cara Albany

  She felt him push her against the wall even harder, as if he didn't want to give her a chance to escape. The truth was she didn't want to get away from this ecstasy. She lifted a leg and curled it around him. Sensing what she wanted, what she needed, Zariq's fingers traced a line all the way to her core. She gasped when he touched her sensitive area. She groaned as he cupped her mound in the palm of his hand. She felt the warmth of his flesh and her own warmth, too.

  Still, his lips ravished her, and his tongue drove sensation into her body. It was as if he was feeding on her. All his pent up need of the last few weeks seemed to be coming out of him now.

  His fingertips caressed her core, opening her folds. She felt his finger on her nub and she gasped, the pleasure shooting through her with galvanic urgency. She almost lost her balance, but he held onto her, stopping her from falling. She felt herself falling anyway, into ecstasy, even as he held her tight, even as he pressed her against the wall.

  His fingers circled gently, sending waves of pleasure into her. She groaned and then she did wrap her arms around him, holding on as he made her feel sensation she'd never imagined possible. She clung to him, her arms across his shoulders. His head leaned back, ending the kiss, and she almost cursed him for doing that. But then he kissed her on the length of her neck sending tingles of delight through her.

  Still, his fingers worked magic at her core. Pulsing pleasure coursed through her, causing her muscles to quiver. Then he took her to another level when he slid his finger inside her. It was a gentle movement and it almost sent her over the edge. He moved his fingers in and out slowly, tenderly. She grasped hold of him even more urgently as spasms of pleasure swept through her. She didn't know how long she could hold on. All she did know was that he was determined to take her to her climax. Even if that meant he would have to sacrifice his own pleasure in the process.

  More movements of his hand, more delicate caresses on her nub, more thrusts of his fingers. And then she did know that her climax was coming. The wave swept toward her, impossible to stop. He seemed to sense the change in her. His movements became more urgent, as if he was determined not to give her a chance to back down.

  Then the wave hit her and she tumbled over the precipice, screaming out loud, her pleasure taking complete hold of her. She clutched at his shoulders and he pulled her against him, holding onto her as if she was the most precious thing in the world.

  The wave of ecstasy subsided. A few moments later all she was left with was a sense of his extraordinary power and his amazing self-control. She could still feel his firmness, hard and powerful against her belly. She dragged in a deep breath, feeling every one of her nerves begin to settle down.

  He shifted slightly and leaned away from her. His eyes were dark with desire. His features had a feral look to them, hunger written across them. His skin was flushed with desire. Zariq's gaze drifted downward taking in the sight of her.

  She quickly pulled down her gown, covering herself. Inexplicably she felt suddenly self-conscious. The hungry way he was looking at her made her realize what was about to happen next.

  Madness had seized her a few moments ago, she told herself. It was that simple. She couldn't let this continue. Even if she had selfishly taken her own pleasure. Even if it meant she was going to deny him his satisfaction.

  One last glance at the thickness of his desire made her mind up in an instant. She gasped and thrust a protective hand across her middle. Then she slid quickly along the wall, twisting her body through the open door of her bedroom and slammed the door shut as hard as she could. Flipping the lock on the door, she then tumbled onto the bed and lay flat, forcing her face against the comforter and trying desperately to hold back her sobs.

  And, what amazed her even more, was that Zariq didn't even try to get her to open the door. Eventually, in the silence of the night, she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "They've asked me to go into Qazhar city this morning," she said to Zariq early next morning over breakfast in the dining room. The doors to the terrace were open and the early morning sun was bright. "It's for a photoshoot."

  Zariq looked up from his plate. He squinted at her. "A photoshoot?"

  She nodded. "I figure it's because they know I'm a model," she said. "Or I used to be a model," she added, quickly correcting herself.

  Zariq's brows lifted, but he said nothing. That was true, she told herself. Her former life was over. No matter what happened between herself and Zariq. She tried not to think about what had happened up in the suite only a few hours ago. Judging by Zariq's tired expression, he'd been struggling since she'd run back into her bedroom, locking him out again.

  "Who asked you?"

  "A magazine," she replied.

  He frowned. "They want you on your own?"

  She nodded and smiled at him. "I don't think it's anything personal against you, Zariq. They said they're doing a feature on my life before getting married and how it has changed now that I'm not a model anymore."

  "That sounds interesting," he said in a flat voice.

  She could see shadows under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept much and wondered if she had some work to do on her own skin before she subjected herself to the unforgiving lens of the camera.

  "Maybe you'd like to come with me," she suggested brightly.

  He surprised her by quickly shaking his head. "No. You go on this one on your own. I've had enough of having my photo taken these past few weeks."

  She frowned, surprised at his brusque manner. "Are you sure?"

  He nodded. "I've got things to do here in the palace. I'll get a car to take you into town." There was a coldness in his voice she hadn't heard before. Had last night's disappointment affected him that much? She could tell by the sternness of his tone that he wasn't going to be persuaded to come with her. Was he holding a grudge because she hadn't allowed him to take her to his bed? Surely it couldn't be that simple, she told herself.

  "About last night, Zariq," she started to say.

  She halted when she saw him lift a hand. "Let's just leave it for a while, Dakota," he said firmly.

  She squinted at him. "I thought you'd want to talk about it."

  "What is there to say?" he asked in an acid tone.

  She'd been right, she told herself. He had been offended by the sudden way she'd put an end to things last night. She didn't know whether to feel hurt or angry.

  He stood and walked out of the room without even giving her a look. She felt deflated. Upon waking this morning, she'd asked herself if that had really happened last night. It had seemed like a dream. The naked sheikh holding her up against a wall, driving pleasure into her, taking over the edge into orgasm.

  But, the subtle signs in her body, the slight ache she felt in her muscles, told her it was true, It hadn't been a dream.

  So why was Zariq being so cold with her this morning? Was it simply frustration? Had she hurt his pride by refusing him? Whatever it was, she wondered how long he was going to continue to be like this with her. Maybe the call from the magazine had come at just the right time.

  The limo was made available to her and soon she was heading into the city. She arrived at the magazine's headquarters and spent the next few hours going through a routine with which she was all too familiar. She'd done it so many times it was second nature to her. She was glad that the magazine had arranged for the photoshoot to be carried out without any onlookers. The studio was her natural environment. Or at least it had been until she had married Zariq.

  Three hours later, the photoshoot was complete, The photographer went over the shots with Dakota. The concept of the shoot was arranged around elegance and taste. She was the royal wife of a sheikh now. So the photos were all designed to highlight the new reality of her life.

  Then she headed to the magazine's office for the interview part of the visit. Dakota walked along the office corridor. She saw some excited faces looking her way and she waved back at them, trying to be as friendly as possible.
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  When she followed the person who was accompanying her into the small office, Dakota halted at the door. Shock took hold of her.

  Elena sat at the desk and she was smiling right at Dakota. "Good morning," Elena said with obviously fake cheeriness.

  The assistant left Elena and Dakota alone, closing the door behind her.

  "What are you doing here?" Dakota asked taking a seat opposite Elena.

  "We have an arrangement with the magazine. In exchange for this interview, they get coverage on our channel,"Elena explained.

  "That's neat," Dakota replied sarcastically. She stood as if preparing to leave. "Maybe I should just go."

  Elena stood quickly. "Don't go, Dakota. It's not what you think."

  Dakota frowned. "And what exactly am I thinking, Elena?"

  Elena shrugged. "That I tricked you into this?"

  "Why would that even matter to me?"

  Elena pointed toward the chair. "Please. Take a seat. I have something I need to talk to you about." Elena's expression was in stark contrast to the cavalier attitude she'd displayed on the day of the rejected interview at the palace.

  Suddenly intrigued. Dakota sat slowly down. Elena sat on the corner of the table and gazed down at Dakota. "I owe you an apology," Elena said.

  Dakota knew she must have seemed surprised. "What for?"

  Elena sighed. "That day at the palace, I lied to you. I deliberately. tried to hide those questions from you because I knew you wouldn't agree to any of them."

  Dakota folded her arms. "You're right. In fact, if I'd known beforehand, I wouldn't even have let you into our palace."

  Elena's brows rose on hearing Dakota's choice of words. "Seems like you're really settling in," Elena observed with a wry tone of voice.

  Dakota chose to ignore that remark. "What is it you want, Elena?"

  Elena sat back down on the chair opposite. "I feel bad about what happened when I came to your palace," she said.

  "Why do I find that hard to believe?" Dakota snapped.

  "You can mistrust me all you like, Dakota," Elena replied. "But, it's true. I let you down. And that's why I felt I need to make it up to you by warning you."

  Dakota felt a chill race up her spine. "Warn me?"

  Elena nodded. "There's a story going around that could cause you some embarrassment. And I feel like I should let you know. Just so you're not caught by surprise when it does come out."

  "A story about what?"

  "You," Elena said in a flat voice. "And it could affect Zariq, too."

  Dakota frowned. "You're serious about this?"

  Elena nodded. "I am."

  Dakota gasped. "What's the story about? And who's behind it?"

  Elena leaned back in her chair. "One of my colleagues heard about a journalist from the US who is digging into your past. Your ancestry."

  "Why? Everything about me is out in the open," Dakota complained.

  "Everything?" Elena asked skeptically. "We all hold back things in our private life, Dakota." She grinned. "Even I do that."

  "Like not telling me about you and Zariq?" Dakota asked.

  Elena shrugged. "I wasn't that first, or the last woman in Zariq's life."

  "Being the last is my privilege," Dakota said defiantly.

  Elena's eyes narrowed. "Your husband is a remarkable man," she said. "But, I guess you know that already. Otherwise you wouldn't have agreed to marry him."

  Dakota thought Elena's choice of words was curious. "Agreed? But I love him," she said sharply. "Don't you know that?"

  "Of course you love him," Elena replied, clearly skeptical. But then again, she was a journalist, Dakota told herself. It was natural for Elena to doubt everything. Especially the fairy tale love story of the sheikh and the beautiful American model. For someone like Elena, it was just too good to be true, wasn't it?

  "So, what's this big story you've heard about," Dakota asked.

  "I don't know the full details, "Elena replied. "All I know is that someone seems determined to question your right to marry Zariq."

  Dakota leaned forward. "What are you talking about? I have every right to be his wife."

  Elena smiled sardonically. "Of course you do," she said acidly. "You're both so much in love." Elena's voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Dakota didn't reply to that. She was determined not to take the bait offered by Elena. If Dakota snapped she didn't know how much of what she said would end up splashed all over the media. She had to be careful, especially with Elena.

  Elena leaned forward propping her elbows on the desk. "Someone wants to prove that your claim to be a suitable wife for the royal sheikh is false."

  Dakota felt something heavy settle in her middle. She drew in a sharp breath and tried to maintain her outward composure. "How can they do that? And why would they even want to?"

  "It would make a good story," Elena explained. "And it might make someone very rich if they sell such a story. Careers have been made on less."

  Dakota sighed. "Who's doing this?" she demanded.

  "I don't know," Elena replied.

  Dakota scrutinized Elena's features trying to get even a hint of whether she could be lying. Maybe the person behind this was Elena herself, Dakota told herself. If so, why would Elena be telling Dakota? Perhaps she wanted to provoke Dakota into doing something foolish. Like admitting to problems in her supposedly perfect marriage to Zariq. Now that would be a story, Dakota admitted to herself.

  "How can I believe you?" Dakota asked sharply. "You could be making all this up. It might even be you who's doing the digging to find our something to ruin my marriage to Zariq."

  "Why would I do that?" Elena asked abruptly.

  Dakota lifted a skeptical brow and said nothing.

  Elena sighed heavily. "You know that Zariq and I were once an item."

  "Apparently not for long," Dakota countered.

  Elena tilted her head, acknowledging Dakota's awareness of the truth. "You've got nothing to fear from me, Dakota. Zariq and I were over a long time ago."

  "Am I supposed to be reassured by that?" Dakota asked.

  "You can take it any way you like. For now, I think you should be more worried about what I told you." Elena narrowed her eyes. "There isn't anything you want to tell me, is there?"

  Dakota frowned. "Like what? That I faked all of this and tricked Zariq into marrying me so I could my hands on his money and power? Is that what you think is going on here?"

  Elena shook her head. "I didn't suggest any of that."

  "Apart from which, do you think Zariq would be so foolish as to fall for something like that? He's not simple-minded," Dakota retorted angrily. Dakota stood and peered down at Elena. "Thanks for your kind warning," she stated sarcastically. "You'll forgive me if I don't take your advice too seriously."

  Elena stood and faced Dakota. "What about my interview?"

  Dakota glared at Elena. "Why don't you do what you normally do. Make something up. You're good at that."

  And with that, Dakota turned and walked out the room. As she made her way toward the lift, all she could think about was what Zariq would say when she told him about the danger to their marriage.