King's Ransom

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King's Ransom Page 13

by Diana Palmer


  Ahmed stood at her side, tall and proud. The festivities went on long into the night and Brianna thought that she'd never been so tired. It disappointed her to feel herself wilting, because she'd lived for this night, for her wedding night, for so long.

  When he led her to the royal suite, which they would share, she was almost in tears when he closed the door behind them.

  "Ah, what is this?" he whispered, brushing away the Ears as he smiled gently down at her.

  "I'm so tired," she wailed, her eyes seeking his. "It's been such a long day, and I want to feel excited and strong and..."

  He stopped the words with his lips. "You are telling me that you are too tired to make love," he whispered, "and I know this already. Pauvre petite, the demands of state are sometimes a great nuisance to bear. But this is only the beginning of our time together."

  "But I want you," she whispered shyly. "And I've waited so long!"

  "As I have waited." He kissed her eyes closed. "I shall undress you, and myself, and we shall lie naked in each other's arms all night long. Then in the morning, when you are rested, I shall make love to you as long as your body is capable of receiving mine."

  She blossomed under his warm, tender mouth, allowing him to remove the exquisite dress and the even more exquisite silk and lace things under it. He lifted her in his arms, his dark eyes adoring her silky skin, and carried her to bed.

  "Oh, how magnificent!" she exclaimed as he put her down on the canopied bed. It was gold and silver, with geometrical motifs that added to the allure. The curtains were black with silver and gold threads.

  "The colors of office," he informed her, moving to the dresser to empty his pockets and unfasten his cuff links and tie clasp. He glanced toward her, noticing her nervous fingers reaching for the cover.

  "No, Brianna," he said softly. "Let me enjoy you."

  She blushed, but she subsided back onto the bed. After a minute, the shyness began to drain away and she found pleasure in the slow boldness of his gaze.

  He divested himself of everything except his briefs. Then he turned, facing her, and let her watch him remove them. He was aroused, and her body shivered as she stared at him.

  "A nuisance only," he said amusedly. "I require nothing of you tonight except for your closeness."

  She could never remember being less tired in her life as desire suddenly overwhelmed her. She couldn't drag her eyes away from him and as he saw her expression, his chin lifted and his eyes narrowed.

  He moved to the bed and balanced beside her with one bee. Her hand went to it involuntarily and shyly, hesitantly, traced up it. She paused, her eyes seeking his.

  He nodded. She continued, her breath catching when sfee touched him.

  He moved down beside her and his mouth eased over las while he taught her hands to explore him gently, sensuously. The lights were all blazing, and if she'd ever thought of making love like this, she would have been horrified. But the sensuality of his hands and mouth, the lazy movements of his body, made her uninhibited and wanton.

  By the time he shifted her onto her back and his body moved over her, she was mindless and totally receptive to everything he asked.

  He kissed her while he made himself master of her body, feeling her shocked gasp as he began to take her. Her hands gripped his upper arms fearfully, her nails biting into him as the stinging pain briefly overcame her desire.

  He lifted his head and his body stilled. "In the old days," he whispered to her, his voice a little unsteady in the heat of passion, "the old women would hang the bridal sheet out of the window the next morning to show the traces of virgin blood that clung to it. I am not supposed to know, nor are you, but they will take this one away and hide it tomorrow, so that for all our lives together they can prove that you had no lover before me, and that our children are legitimate."

  She swallowed. "It hurt a little," she whispered tightly.

  He smiled gently. "That is natural. But what I can give you now will make up for it. Shall I show you?" he whispered, bending.

  She felt him move, shift, and his eyes held hers while he did it, until the right movement made her body jerk and her breath catch.

  He whispered something in French, and his mouth began to cherish hers. She had nothing to compare the experience with, nothing to prepare her for the sudden fierce bite of passion into her body. She fought him because it frightened her more than the brief pain had. He laughed and lifted his head to watch her as he forced her body into an explosive culmination that arched her back and tore from her open mouth in a husky little scream. Only when he felt her begin to shiver in the aftermath did he allow himself the exquisite pleasure of joining her in that hot delight of ecstasy. It was, he thought as it racked him, almost too sweet to bear.

  He felt as if he lost consciousness for a second or two. He became slowly aware of Brianna's whispery movement under the weight of his body. He lifted his head and looked into her wide, curious eyes.

  He didn't speak. Neither did she. Her eyes went down to where his chest lay on her breasts and back up to his mouth and then his eyes with something like wonder. She took a soft breath and then moved her hips deliberately, so that she could experience again the pressure that it exerted in the secret places of her body. She flushed.

  He touched her face, raising himself slightly on his elbows, and he moved his own hips, his knee nudging her legs farther apart. She gasped.

  His hand slid down her thigh and curved around it. Holding her eyes, he shifted onto his side and gently brought her into the cradle of his hips so that they lay still reined together in intimacy. He smiled and pulled at her thigh, easing her into the rhythm. In this position, she was open to his eyes and he to hers. They looked at each other e wonder, and then their eyes locked and he caught his breath at the pleasure he saw in her face.

  "Here," he whispered huskily. "Like this, my love."

  He pulled her hips into his and pushed slowly until she accepted him completely. She blushed at the incredible intimacy of hanging there, between heaven and earth, while she seemed to see into his soul.

  "Ahmed," she whispered, drowning in him. "Ahmed, I love you.. .so much!"

  "And I you," he said unsteadily. "With all my heart."

  He shivered, rolling slowly onto his back with her body still joined to his. His hands smoothed down her back, gently pulling. His body tautened under hers with each slow, delicate motion.

  "Sit up and take me," he whispered.

  "I don't think lean...." she began nervously.

  "You are my love. My life."

  "And you are mine. But I... can't!" She hid her face against his chest, and he laughed with delight at her shyness. She was a rarity in his life. A woman with inhibitions.

  "So shy," he whispered. "You delight me. Brianna, you... delight... me!"

  As he spoke, his hands moved her hips, making her gasp, making her shiver with pleasure.

  She felt his body pull and tauten. His jaw clenched and he arched in a sinuous movement that she found incredibly arousing. Her lips touched over his chest in shaky little kisses while his hands brought them both to the most [incredibly tender climax of his life.

  She bit him in her oblivious pleasure, and his short laugh was as much a groan of ecstasy as he gripped her bruisingly hard and held her to the rigid clench of his body.

  She felt him relax suddenly with a rough shudder, and her cheek lay heavily against his damp chest. The hairs tickled her nose and she smiled wearily.

  "Is it so good, always?" she whispered.

  "I think, only when two people love," he whispered back. His hands made a warm, sensuous sweep of her back and he arched up to enjoy the silky feel of her against him. "Dieu, You exhaust me with exquisite! pleasure and then, so suddenly, I want you all over again."

  She smiled against his chest, lifting up so that she could look into his dark, possessive eyes. "We're married," she said with quiet wonder. "We can sleep together every night."

  He smiled. "There will most lik
ely be very little sleep obtained by either of us," he mused.

  She traced the line of his jaw. "I like making love."

  "I like it most of all with you," he said, sensing her quiet fears. "I never loved before. It is the most profound experience of my life to lie with you so intimately."

  She relaxed. Her mouth brushed his and she lay against him, sated and weary. "Can we sleep like this?"

  His arms enclosed her. "Just like this," he assured her. His own eyes closed in drowsy pleasure. And finally they slept.

  Brianna found that there were difficulties despite her love for her husband, but none that she couldn't overcome with some patient tutoring and understanding.

  She pit used to palace protocol and meeting visiting dignitaries' wives. She got used to the things that were expected of a queen, just as Tad rapidly adjusted to life at court. He grew and blossomed, and soon Brianna relaxed. He was going to be all right, just as Dr. Brown had predicted. There was a grand ball a few months after their marriage. Brianna had a gown by Dior, reflecting the silver-and-gold-on-black motif of Ahmed's court. Her hair had grown long, and she had it pinned into an exquisite coiffure ―one that, she knew from experience, would be quickly disposed with when she and Ahmed were alone. She wore diamonds and pearls, and the tiara of her rank, and she met with approving glances from even the most stren ministers of Ahmed's cabinet when she joined her guests.

  She was dancing with her husband when she noticed an odd expression in his eyes. His hand on her waist was curiously exploring.

  What is it?" she asked softly.

  He smiled quizzically. "Is there something which you wish to tell me?" he asked gently. "Something which you have perhaps thought to save until you visited our court physician?"

  "Yasmin," she said, glowering toward a gleeful sister-in-law who was wearing a guilty but very happy expression.

  "Do not blame her too much. She dreams of dynasties, even as I sometimes do." He pulled her closer, his eyes loving and warm. "Tell me."

  "I'm not sure," she confessed. "I've been unwell at breakfast twice this week. And there were a few other things." She searched his eyes. "I didn't want to tell you yet."

  "Why?" he asked softly.

  "I was afraid you might not want to make love to me anymore if we were sure," she said hesitantly, searching his dark eyes as her hand caressed his jacket. "I thought they might take me away from you..."

  "Chérie" He stopped dancing and bent to kiss her worried eyes shut. "They would have to kill me to separate us," he whispered fervently. "And as for the other... Brianna, I would want to make love to you if I were on my deathbed!"

  Reassured, she smiled shyly. "Would you, really?"

  "I find you a delightful pupil," he whispered. "Adventurous and mischievous and totally captivating."

  "I love you!"

  "I love you," he returned. His hand pressed slowly onto her flat belly and they stood staring at each other while around them, suddenly curious and then knowing eyes began to gleam with confirmed suspicions. Without saying a word, or making an announcement, everyone at court knew that Brianna carried the heir to the throne And it was a credit to them, and protocol, that not one suspicion was voiced until the actual announcement was made some weeks later.

  Brianna's little prince was born on a bright autumn day, and bells rang from the churches to signal the event. Ahmed stood beside her bed holding the crown prince Tarin in his arms, with a beaming Tad beside him. Brianna, tired but gloriously happy, looked up at the three most important people in her life with eyes that reflected her joy.

  Sensing her appraisal, Ahmed turned his head and looked down at her. His eyes were full of wonder.

  "He is perfect," he told her, while nurses fidgeted in the background and smiled at his expression.

  "A king's ransom," she agreed, loving him with her whole heart.

  "Ah, that is not quite so," he whispered, bending to lay the tiny child in her waiting arms. "For, while I love my son with a father's great pride, you are the real king's ransom, my darling," he whispered, and he smiled at her radiant expression as he bent to kiss her.

  * * * * *

  Be sure to look for Lang's story in SECRET

  AGENT MAN –coming to you from

  Silhouette Desire in January 1994. He's the

  MAN OF THE MONTH!

 

 

 


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