The Sheikh's Pregnant Fling (Azhar Sheikhs Book 2)

by Leslie North

  He went over to her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Nothing bad, I promise you. I’m actually here to prepare for a dinner.”

  Nilda arched an eyebrow, setting her purse on a chair in the foyer. “What sort of dinner requires this much preparation?”

  He blinked. “Well, I’ll be cooking it.”

  Her eyes widened. “You cook?”

  “Yes, of course.” He went back to the living area, collecting the scattered folders. “My mother taught me. I used to be at her side constantly in the kitchen.”

  Nilda chuckled, heading for a closet door where the majority of the cleaning supplies were kept. “I can just see that. You at Safiya’s side.” Safiya had been around enough to get to know Nilda quite well. The two had a fondness for each other. “Always the mama’s boy.”

  Nasir laughed, taking his coffee mugs to the sink. “It served me well. I know how to use a knife and make tabbouleh. What more could a woman ask for in a man?”

  “Ah.” Nilda clucked her tongue, bringing the mop bucket into the kitchen to fill at the sink. “So this isn’t a business dinner tonight; you’re wooing a woman.”

  Nasir stilled his tongue, wondering what he should even say about the dinner that night. I invited the first woman I’ve fallen for in years to my house under the ruse of a business meeting. “Something like that.”

  Nilda winked. “If you need my help with dinner, just let me know. You’ll know where to find me…and then I’ll be out of your hair before she gets here.”

  11

  Cassandra stepped through the sliding door of the sleek apartment building, gripping her briefcase so hard her knuckles turned white. Her belly had been churning for a full three hours now, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the early pregnancy symptoms or the sheer anticipation of seeing Nasir. She headed for the main desk, intent on having someone ring Nasir to inform him of her arrival, but the elevator doors swept open and he stepped out.

  Nasir strode toward her, hands buried in the pockets of his slate gray slacks, his black hair gelled and styled so well that her mouth hung open. A small smile crested his face, time shuddering to a stop as she absorbed him: his model-worthy saunter, the loose linen shirt, the way his dark eyes swept over her as if this was much more than a business meeting.

  She blinked, tilting her head to look up at him once he was in front of her. “There you are.”

  “Here I am.” His grin widened. “Shall we?” He jerked his head toward the elevator, and she stumbled after him, wishing he’d offered a handshake or a hug or something. Anything to touch that caramel skin. Feel the desire thrumming inside him, the way it was inside her.

  Her legs felt wobbly as she followed him into the elevator, pure steel and mirrors. Once the doors slid shut, their tight quarters bore down on her. She struggled to think of something light to say, something platonic. Something that didn’t betray the wild pulse urging her to press him against the wall and kiss him until her lips went numb.

  “This is a nice change of scenery for a business meeting.” She smiled tightly, trying not to look at his profile for too long. That immaculate, chiseled profile. “I get tired of running all around, too.”

  “The meeting room I mentioned is unfortunately in use this evening,” Nasir said, glancing over at her. “I’ve set us up in my apartment instead. I hope that isn’t a problem.”

  Her voice shriveled in her throat. Great. Right into the lion’s den. “Not a problem at all.” Now she could fulfill that desperate desire to see where he lived, what he surrounded himself with, without even needing to ask for it.

  She stared at the ascending numbers on the elevator, squeezing her briefcase handle over and over again. The numbers changed to ‘PENTHOUSE’ on the LCD screen, and the doors slid open quietly. He gestured before him. “After you.”

  She stepped into a small foyer, her heart beginning a wild beat. He unlocked the front door and pushed it open, welcoming her inside. “Come in, please. Make yourself at home.” He dropped the keys into a small bowl on a table by the door, then slipped off his shoes before venturing further.

  Before her, the 2017 winner of the “Most Spectacular Apartment Award” from Interior Design Magazine beckoned for her to come inside—and if it wasn’t the winner, it should have been. Her mouth fell open again and she clamped it shut, slipping out of her heels as she tried to take it all in without gawking and squealing.

  Nasir glanced over his shoulder, waving for her to follow. “Come in here. I prepared a little dinner, if you’re hungry.”

  She stumbled after him, notes of pepper and lemon wafting through the air. Soft jazz played from somewhere—maybe it was imbued in the air itself—and she followed him into an expansive kitchen, decked out with shiny stainless appliances, all the countertops swirling gray marble.

  “Your place is…lovely.” She blinked a few times as he bent over to pull something out of the oven. Lovely was an understatement. Nasir could write the book on being the refined gentleman. “I had no idea you cooked.”

  “Why would you?” He set the tray down on top of the stove, pulling lobster-shaped oven mitts off his hands. “I only ever took you to a restaurant.”

  The brazen reference to their dating history rang like an insult in the air. It violated the secret pact in her head that they’d both avoid talking about that amazing date—and everything that came after it—under threat of death. She cleared her throat, nodding slowly. “True.”

  Nasir offered up a small grin but seemed unruffled by the implications of his reference. “Go sit down. I’ll bring a plate out to you. You do want to eat, right?”

  She eyed the bulging foil packets, desperate to know what emitted such tantalizing smells. “Yeah, sure. I haven’t eaten yet.”

  He nodded, jerking his head toward the room beyond the kitchen. “The dining room is that way. I’ll meet you there. Just give me a minute to plate these up.”

  She meandered out of the kitchen, taking her time to absorb more details—the exotic potted plants with white blooms that drooped like a melodramatic actress; the smooth flooring that looked neither wood nor tile, but some strange, modern in-between; and the wide wall of windows that overlooked Los Angeles, all the way to the ocean, showcasing a spectacular burning sunset that on any other evening she’d have to drive three hours to see.

  “Holy shit.” She drifted toward the windows, dragging a finger over the long black table, which was set for two. An unopened bottle of wine sat on the table, and it was that detail that made her realize he’d prepared this for her. The whole thing. None of it was casual or happenstance, like he might want her to believe.

  She gazed at the breathtaking panorama, relishing the lick of satisfaction through her veins. Nasir still wanted her, and damn, that felt nice. But what could she even do about it? Other than drink up the adoration like a thirsty tourist.

  Nasir came into the dining area a moment later, holding a tray with a proud smile. “Sit, Cassandra.”

  She did as she was told, sliding into the seat facing the windows. He set a large black square plate in front of her—a filet of salmon steamed slightly, flanked by asparagus spears and roasted potatoes. Her eyebrows shot up.

  “Wow. This looks amazing.”

  He eased into his own seat and reached for the wine. “I hope you like it.” He uncorked the bottle and poured a healthy portion into each of their waiting glasses. He raised his glass, which meant she had to do the same. Panic streaked through her.

  “To the future.” He clinked glasses and took a smiling sip. She returned the smile nervously, bringing the glass to her lips, the pungent smell of wine almost making her queasy.

  She took the tiniest sip possible—barely enough to coat her mouth, and set it down. “Mmm. What a nice red.” No way could she mention she wasn’t drinking anymore and wouldn’t be for the next nine months.

  Nasir cut into his salmon, eyes sparkling like he knew a secret. “So. How was your weekend?”

  “Pretty uneventf
ul.” Laid around my apartment thinking about you. “Mostly work. A couple movies. What about you?”

  “Same.” He speared an asparagus stalk, crunching into it.

  “You watch movies?” She arched a brow. This seemed highly unlikely. The man basically ate and pissed work, from what she knew of him.

  “Sometimes.” He shrugged. “When I want to.”

  Cassandra took a bite of the salmon, the juicy flesh immediately dissolving into her mouth. She moaned low then caught herself, looking at him with wide eyes.

  She finished chewing, flavors coating her mouth. “Damn, Nasir. That is so good.”

  That same sly grin appeared as he reached for his wine glass. “Glad you like it.”

  “You’ll have to tell me your recipe.”

  “Oh no.” He shook his head then took a big sip of wine. “The recipe only gets shared with blood or marriage ties.”

  She sighed dramatically, unable to stop the words from blasting out of her mouth. “So I’ll have to marry you to get it?”

  He shrugged. “It’s one way.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him as she ate another bite. “You should have put this skill set into your profile.”

  “Maybe so. But it’s important to leave some surprises, no?” He winked, and it made her entire face heat up. She stabbed a roasted potato, stuffing the whole thing in her mouth as if the mouthful might cover up her visible reaction.

  “Besides, Veeda would have appreciated it, but it wouldn’t have changed anything,” Nasir went on. The mention of his first date made her belly twist, and she straightened in her seat, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. This was a business meeting, after all. She was doing a poor job of keeping it on track.

  “That’s true.” She swirled the wine in her glass by the stem, the dark violet-red liquid creating a mesmerizing cyclone. “But what did you like about her?”

  Nasir chewed, squinting over her shoulder. “She was very professional. Very articulate.”

  Cassandra nodded. More proof that he just wanted another CEO to marry. “Those are great qualities.”

  “Maybe we could look at the other matches after dinner.” He paused, as if he wanted to say more, but nothing followed.

  “Absolutely.” Disappointment crashed through her. Maybe the dinner had truly been for her, but not in the way she’d hoped for. And the snuffing of that excitement—that thrilling, consuming knowledge—felt like a bigger kick in the gut than anything else.

  “I’ve actually gone ahead and organized the remaining selections based on a few different criteria.” She cut a potato into tiny pieces while Nasir filled his second glass of wine. “That way we can see who are the strongest finishers across the board, and then who ranks highest based on specific areas.”

  “Sounds great.” He stuffed more salmon into his mouth, his eyes illuminated by the blaze of the reflected sunset.

  The dinner flew by, and Cassandra tried as hard as she could to savor the flavors, the beautiful surroundings, the natural comfort of Nasir at her side—even when talking business. When their plates were clean and Nasir was draining the wine bottle, Cassandra stood.

  “I should get my briefcase,” she said, feeling as woozy as if she’d had her share of wine, even though her glass still sat full. Probably just the effect of Nasir’s electric gaze. Or you could tell me you don’t want to see the other options. She hesitated, giving him a chance to tell her to sit her ass down and kiss him.

  “Sure. I’ll wait here.” Nasir fingered the stem of his wine glass. Disappointment slunk through her, furtive and fast, and she tried to rationalize it away. She could never be with a client, and certainly not the client who’s child she carried. Be rational about this.

  But it was hard to be rational around Nasir. Back in the safety of her apartment, it was easy to stick to the idea that she and Nasir could never work. When it stared at her in black and white, it felt solid and true, like a math equation. But in here, in this penthouse, bathed in Nasir’s energy and his sultry glances, the whole thing crumbled, like the inclusion of the imaginary numbers in calculus that she’d never truly understood.

  Cassandra retrieved her briefcase and hurried back, slowing at the sight of him. He sat bathed in vibrant orange hues, his gaze waiting for hers, his casual posture—this man in his element—knocking her off balance for a moment.

  Be strong. She went back to her seat, opening up the briefcase on the table, pulling out the stack of papers she’d prepared. Nasir’s gaze burned on her, practically leaving scars in its wake.

  “Before you show me anyone else,” he said, sitting straight, pushing his wine glass away. “Just tell me one thing.”

  The shift in his tone made her skin prickle. “What’s that?”

  He slid his hand over the table, clasping her wrist. Electricity jolted through her and she gasped. “That night we had together was…good…wasn’t it?”

  Her gaze fell to his wrist, the jutting of his wrist bone, the sexy dark hairs covering his forearm as if he’d brushed them individually. Finally. “Nasir…I…”

  “Just tell me.” He pushed back from the table, pulling her up to standing with him. His hands gripped the sides of her arms, his dark eyes imploring. “I don’t want you to lie to me. It’s important to me.”

  Cassandra gulped, looking into his earnest face, a sigh of relief cascading through her. So the business meeting had been a ruse. Whatever this imaginary number was in their math equation, it was there for him too. “It was fucking incredible.”

  He exhaled, like he’d stopped breathing waiting for her to say that, and then his hands moved to cup her face. The heat of him seared through her, making her eyes flutter shut, and then his lips were against hers, luxuriously soft and warm. She inhaled sharply, clutching at his shoulders, pressing herself against him. He deepened the kiss, tongue pressing into her mouth. She moaned and welcomed it, loving the languorous exploration, the soft bath of his scent, the heat that poured from him.

  “This isn’t the wine talking,” he added after a few kisses, voice breathy against her cheek. “You should know that.”

  She smoothed her hands over his chest, giggling. “Well, what would the wine say if it could talk?”

  “It would say ‘take this woman to your bedroom immediately.’” He dragged his lips over her forehead, squeezed her arms, his fingertips drifting down to her hands. “Which I intend to do.”

  Cassandra hooked her arms around his neck, laughing as he swept her up into his arms. “You have a thing for sweeping a lady off her feet.”

  “Like I said…best to leave some surprises.” His boyish grin made her weak, so she clung tighter to him, burying her face in his neck. This was so wrong…but it was also so right. To hell with the consequences. She wanted this man, and he wanted her. This would be the last time…and she deserved one more time with him.

  She’d figure out the rest later. For now, she just needed Nasir.

  12

  The weight of Cassandra in his arms sated him in a way that felt like the punctuation of a sentence. There was no other woman he wanted in his arms; there was no other woman who’d ever felt like this against him. He cinched her tighter, gaze sweeping over her playful smirk, glossy blonde hair, the look in her eyes that told him this wasn’t just his imagination.

  “Why are you so beautiful?” He stopped mid-stride to the bedroom, admiring her as if it were the first time all over again.

  “I suppose I can try to be less beautiful,” she said breathily.

  “You’ll fail,” he warned, dotting her jawline with kisses. “I can guarantee it.” He turned and headed back to the dining room, a new idea gripping him.

  “Where are we going now?” She cupped his face, parting her lips for him, receiving his urgent kiss with grace.

  “Phase two of my surprise.” He set her down on the edge of the dining room table, the sunlight showering her in ethereal light. Yes, this was where he’d have her. Right where she shone like a goddess.

&nbs
p; “You want to do it here?” She lifted a brow, looking back at the expanse of dining room table behind her. “I didn’t take you for a dinner table kind of guy.”

  “I’m not,” he admitted, tugging her low-cut shirt out of her work slacks. “But you make me want to be.”

  She sighed. “Let me see you.”

  His kisses drifted down her chest, into the sweet valley of her breasts. “Hmm?”

  Cassandra’s fingers knotted in his hair, sending a shiver of anticipation through him. His cock throbbed in his pants. “Come on, Nasir.”

  He dragged his tongue over the top of each breast. Her flowery smell drove him wild, almost made him dizzy with lust. “Maybe I want to take my time.”

  She groaned, tensing beneath him. He grinned at her frustration, sliding a hand down the side of her body. She spread her legs, making her intentions clear. His hand drifted toward the heat between them. He watched her as his fingertips grazed her pussy through the thin fabric of her slacks; the expressions crossing her face fascinated him.

  “Hmmm.” He dragged his thumb over the crease of her pussy, liking the way the pants bit into the cleft. “This area seems to be the warmest.”

  She laughed. “You’re a scientist now?”

  “Making my observations.” He cupped her ass cheeks, bringing her hard against him. She gasped, wrapping her legs around his back, locking his body into place.

  “I’m observing something very…hard.” She seared him with a sexy look. “Quite the protrusion.”

  He laughed, pressing his lips to hers. She could always make him laugh…anywhere. Anytime. “Perhaps we should expose it for further study.”

  His own words rang foreign to him, but that was part of what he loved about Cassandra—she pushed him out of his comfort zone in small ways that counted. The idea of referring to their own genitals as parts of a scientific experiment was inherently absurd.

  But damn if he didn’t love it.