Dora came up off the bed. Her entire body stiffened. She didn’t want to tell him to stop, but she wasn’t sure she could survive the experience. He didn’t seem to notice her reaction, or if he did, he didn’t stop to talk about it. Instead he moved against that small bump, licking it gently, slowly, making her both tense and relax and finally sink back against her pillows.
This wasn’t happening, she thought as her head moved back and forth, and she found herself pulling her knees up and out to give him more room. Men didn’t really do this sort of thing, did they? Except she couldn’t deny the waves of pleasure that crashed through her.
With each flick of his tongue, he carried her higher and higher, or at least that was how it seemed. In reality she never left her bed, although it felt as if she were flying. She couldn’t get close enough. He had to go faster, no slower, no…
She breathed his name, then she couldn’t breathe at all. She begged him to never stop, commanded him to stop, no, wait. Her muscles quivered. Heat flared on her face and her chest. Her heels dug into the mattress. She writhed and pushed and held back and waited.
She didn’t know how long it went on. She was lost in a universe in which time had no meaning. She felt the flicker of his tongue and his hot breath. When she screamed his name again, she was sure she felt him smile. Her whole body collected itself and surged toward a goal she couldn’t understand. Then he gently inserted one finger inside of her. As his tongue continued to move back and forth, he pressed up from the inside and stroked at the same speed, in perfect counterpoint.
The explosion destroyed her. It was too perfect to survive. She hadn’t known that her body could respond, could feel, could experience the primal release of the moment. She was cast up to the heavens, then caught in strong and gentle arms. Shudders rippled through her, breaking her, assembling her, leaving her forever changed. She could only gasp and pray for a road back, then a soft voice called her name, and she found herself cradled in Khalil’s arms. He held her close and touched her face.
“So the desert rose is a wildcat,” he murmured, then kissed her. “You are quite the surprise, sweet Dora.”
Her heart still pounded hard and fast in her chest. “Was it supposed to be that good?” she asked.
He laughed. “Only when two people are very lucky.” His smile faded. “We are a good match.”
Then he moved over her, again kneeling between her thighs, but this time he wasn’t going to kiss her there. He was going to possess her, to change her. When he finished, she would no longer be a virgin.
It was all she could do to keep from begging him to hurry. She desperately wanted to feel him inside of her. She wanted to know what generations of women had known before her, and to become one with this incredible man.
“Tell me you want this,” he told her.
“Yes, Khalil,” she whispered, staring into his dark eyes and losing herself there. “Please. Be in me. Change me.”
Something probed between her legs. He reached between them, guiding himself. She parted her thighs and told herself to relax, that tensing would only make it more difficult. Then he was filling her, stretching her until it nearly hurt. He pushed in deeper, then paused.
“There,” he said. “The proof.”
His expression tightened. He flexed his hips once and pushed. A sharp pain ripped through her, making her gasp, but he didn’t stop. He thrust deeply into her, all the while staring into her eyes. Passion combined with possession. Later she would swear that she remembered the faint whisper of a desert wind as he took her into his embrace and called out to the heavens, “You are mine.”
Chapter 5
Khalil lay in the darkness. He was tired, but he couldn’t sleep. Not after what had happened.
He turned his head to the left and stared at the woman curled up next to him. He could barely make out the shape of her body, but the scent of her filled his senses and made him want to pull her close so that they could make love again.
Instead he pushed himself into a sitting position and turned until his feet rested on the floor. For the first time in his life, he’d made love with a virgin. He’d heard Gerald’s accusations and had assumed the man was telling the truth, but a part of him had wondered. Dora’s hesitantly eager responses had also hinted at the truth, but until he’d felt his arousal pierce the veil of her innocence, he hadn’t been sure.
The act of deflowering a virgin had been surprisingly satisfying. He enjoyed knowing that no man had spilled his seed inside of her—that she was, in the most primitive way possible, his.
Khalil smiled, but the gesture was more cynical than humorous. He prided himself on being a modern man, forward thinking in his quest to lead his country into the new millennium. Yet here he sat, pleased that he’d finally bedded a virgin. So much for his thin veneer of civility. He was not as far removed from his savage ancestors as he would like to think.
Which didn’t answer his question about the woman. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her sleeping. Could he do this? Was it wrong?
He dismissed the queries as soon as they appeared. He was Khalil Khan, prince of El Bahar. He could do anything he liked. In matters of state, the fate of the country came first. He would not marry Amber and subject himself and his nation to her petty nature. Yet he had to marry and produce sons to carry on for him when he was dead. He was a member of the royal family—he had obligations.
Besides, without him, who was Dora Nelson? A secretary? A nobody who had been badly used by her former employer? With him, she could be so much more. She would, in fact, be honored by his proposal. This was best for all concerned.
That decided, he stretched out on the bed. When the first light of morning crept into the room, he would begin making phone calls. By the time Dora awoke, all would be arranged. He closed his eyes to sleep, but instead of relaxing, he found himself reliving the pleasure he’d found in her arms.
She’d been unskilled, but eager. Her pleasure when he’d touched her most feminine place with his tongue had surprised them both. She’d writhed beneath him like a wildcat. The memory made him smile, then grow hard. He remembered how tight she’d been. How she’d stiffened from the pain when he’d first pushed through her barrier. But she’d relaxed, allowing him to go more deeply. He’d plunged in and out of her, feeling her give herself up to him. How fiercely she’d wrapped her arms around him as she’d urged him to completion. She’d wanted him to take her, to change her, to make her a woman. When he’d climaxed, she’d clung to him, as if she never wanted him to go.
He’d had every intention of returning to his own room, yet somehow he had not. He’d spent the night here, at her side, listening to her soft breathing and waiting for dawn. Even now, when there were only a few hours left until the new day began, he stayed in her bed. Aroused and wanting, he pulled her close and breathed in the scent of her hair. She stirred against him but did not wake. He would sleep another time. For tonight, this was enough.
Dora stirred slightly under the covers, which seemed especially heavy this morning. She turned over and bumped into something…warm.
Her eyes flew open. Khalil lay next to her, his brown eyes alert, his mouth smiling. “Good morning,” he said.
She swallowed hard as memories from the night before crashed into her. Her conversation with Gerald, Khalil’s declaration that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, the way they’d made love. The last thought brought sensual images to mind, of him touching her, kissing her, taking her. She felt a flush of embarrassment crawl up her face, and she had to fight the need to duck under the covers and never come up.
“Ah, so you do remember what happened last night,” Khalil said, his voice as low and gentle as his caresses had been. “I’d hoped you might.” He placed his hand on her bare shoulder, then stroked her arm. “I think we did very well together.” He slipped one leg between her thighs. “So well I had trouble sleeping. All I could think about was wanting to make love with you again.”
She blinked at h
im but didn’t have a clue as to what to say. What was the correct social response on the morning after? Especially when the night before had not only been unexpected, but had also been her very first time?
“Thank you,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or to scream. Here she was, naked, in bed with a handsome prince, who by the way had his bare leg between her bare thighs, and he was thanking her for their close encounter. Had the world gone completely crazy? Or was he looking for a way to let her down gently? Was that what this was about? Did he want to find an easy way to let her know that she would be a fool to have any expectations?
“I had a nice time, too,” she said at last when it became obvious he was waiting for some kind of response. She wished she could put a little space between them, but she didn’t know how to do that without being thought of as rude. She would also like to get up, but she was naked and the only bathrobe nearby was clear across the room in the bathroom. She did not relish the thought of walking around naked in front of Khalil. While his bare body had been sheer perfection, she saw no need to flash her flaws in the light of day.
“I was hoping you would think our lovemaking was more than just nice,” he chided. “How about spectacular? Extraordinary? Even magical?”
He was teasing. She could tell by the tone of his voice. His playfulness gave her a little courage. While she had no illusions about his expectations for any kind of relationship with her, perhaps this wasn’t going to end badly.
“I think I’ll stick with nice,” she said primly, then braced herself for his retaliation.
He didn’t disappoint her. He waited less than two seconds, then lunged toward her, tickling her stomach and her side. She screamed and tried to wiggle away, but he was much stronger. Using only one hand, he pinned her arms above her head, which gave him free access to her naked torso. But instead of continuing to tickle her, he bent down and licked her nipple. She shivered.
He released her and sat up. “We are well-matched,” he said, repeating what he’d told her the previous night. “I was not wrong to choose you.”
His words didn’t make any sense. “What are you talking about?”
He frowned as if he expected her to intuitively understand. “Isn’t that obvious? We are to be married this afternoon. The ceremony will be at five. I’ve already spoken to the manager of the boutique where you got your other clothes. One of their salespeople will be bringing by a selection of dresses at two.”
As he spoke, he rose to his feet and reached for a bathrobe she hadn’t noticed draped across a chair. Her ears heard what he told her, her brain absorbed the information, but it had no meaning. He might as well have been discussing the lack of oxygen on Jupiter, or the number of single-celled animals who lived at the bottom of the ocean.
“Married?” she asked, sure she’d misunderstood.
“Yes. That is what I said.”
She pressed her lips together and stared at him. Married? Married? Them? “You want to marry me?”
“Of course. Why are you surprised?”
How much time did he have to listen to that answer? she wondered grimly. This had to be a joke. A cruel bit of humor that had gone awry. Marriage? To her? Sure. Princes fell in love with their secretaries every day. “We’re not in some movie from the forties,” she said angrily. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, making sure she remained covered by the sheet and blanket. “I don’t think this is funny.”
“Nor do I,” he said coolly.
Her eyes burned. She realized she was close to crying—probably because there was a part of her that wanted to believe it was all true. She’d never allowed herself the fantasy of imagining Khalil caring about her. It was too ridiculous to stand. But he wasn’t a heartless man; at least she’d never seen proof of that. So why would he act this way now?
“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“It’s perfectly clear,” he insisted. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. You are intelligent, reliable, honorable and healthy. You have all the qualities I require in a wife. Until last night, you were a virgin. I am Prince Khalil Khan and I do not dishonor women.”
This was twisted even for him, she thought, trying to come to grips with what was happening to her. “You can’t mean that. You don’t really want to marry me.”
“Why not?”
There were probably forty-seven thousand reasons. Unfortunately she couldn’t come up with one right now. She shrugged and made a vague movement with her hand. “Because.”
“Ah, that makes it all clear.”
He returned to the bed and settled next to her, then he took one of her hands in his. “What are you afraid of?”
She searched his gaze, wondering if she really dared to speak the truth. But as she couldn’t think of anything else to say, she didn’t have much choice. “That this is all a game to you. If it is, I don’t understand the rules, and I know I’m going to get hurt. I don’t want that.” The truth was she wasn’t sure she would survive more heartache right now, thank you very much. She would prefer to be left alone until she recovered her equilibrium.
He reached toward her and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then touched her face. “I understand,” he told her, even though he couldn’t possibly. “You want to believe me, but you’re afraid. What happened to my lovely desert wildcat?”
“She had another appointment this morning and couldn’t be with us.”
He flashed her a smile. He hadn’t showered or shaved yet, and stubble darkened his jaw. He looked rugged and dangerous and she shivered at the thought of them being intimate again.
“I adore you,” he said and squeezed her fingers. “I know that this has happened very quickly, but that doesn’t make the experience any less valid. Trust me. More importantly, trust yourself, sweet Dora.” He leaned close. “I want you, in my bed and in my world. Marry me. Come back with me to El Bahar. Help me with my work. Help me change the world that is my country. You see, I must go back, but I’m not sure I can if you refuse to accompany me.”
His words fell like rain in the desert. She soaked up every syllable, drank in the sounds, then let them blossom deep inside of her. Oh how she longed to believe him. Could this be happening? Could someone like her really be so very fortunate?
She stared at him as if the truth lay in his handsome features. From the beginning he’d been autocratic and annoying, and he’d worked her hard, but he’d never been cruel. He’d never lied. She’d listened to him while he dealt with both customers and suppliers. He was tough, but honest. He had a moral code. He wasn’t Gerald.
That was what it came down to, she thought. Her fear that like Gerald, he was using her to get something he wanted. Except he was a prince and what on earth could he want that she could give him? She was an unemployed, nearly middle-aged spinster with a few office skills. And he…he was Khalil Khan, prince of El Bahar. In her heart she’d always known that Gerald was much less than she wanted him to be. Something about Khalil made her think he was so much more.
Before she realized what he was doing, he’d taken her in his arms, then stretched her out on the mattress. He reached under the covers and began to stroke her belly.
“Marry me,” he murmured against her neck. “Be my wife. Come home with me. Have my sons. I will make you a princess. My sweet, lovely Dora.”
It was impossible to think while his fingers tickled her ribs, then moved higher to her breasts. He circled the full curves, then teased her nipples. She gasped as pleasure filled her, and her woman’s place dampened in anticipation of his possession.
“Khalil,” she breathed.
“Yes,” he told her. “Want me, need me, as I have wanted and needed you. Believe in me. Life has just offered you a great prize. Don’t be afraid. This once, reach out and grab it with both hands. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days.”
Of all the things he’d sa
id to her, the last statement was the one that got through. She knew all about regrets. She’d lived with them all her life. She regretted her unhappy childhood, her initial college experience, her lack of relationships through her twenties, her relationship—if she could call it that—with Gerald. So many regrets. And not one of them was about something she’d done. She didn’t regret her actions, just her inactions.
Were her dreams at last coming true?
“Marry me,” he urged, still kissing her neck and her throat. “Say yes.”
She took a deep breath. Did she want to keep living with regret or did she want to take a chance? She bit her lower lip, then closed her eyes and exhaled a single word.
“Yes.”
Khalil sat up. “I knew I could make you see sense. Good.”
He bounded to his feet, then reached down and pulled her to hers. Before she had a chance to register her nakedness or be embarrassed, he stepped behind her and gave her a gentle push toward the bathroom.
“Go ahead and shower. There’s much to be done before the wedding. I’ll meet you in the dining room in twenty minutes.”
With that, he was gone. Dora stared after him. Somehow that was not the response she’d expected when she’d agreed to marry Khalil. Married? She shook her head. None of this was really happening. Obviously she was caught up in a weird dream or something. Or maybe she’d hit her head in the night. Either way, she might as well shower, if only to get on with the dream and see what would happen next.
The wedding party consisted of Khalil, Dora, a justice of the peace and the two bodyguards who served as witnesses. Dora glanced around the large parlor in the beautiful hotel suite and told herself that the management had worked a miracle in a very short period of time.
White roses and baby’s breath had been woven through a narrow wooden arch. Large, pale pink urns filled with white roses, lilies and orchids sat on squat tables, which formed a makeshift center aisle in the room. She and Khalil stood on a long, white cloth that had been tacked down from the entrance of the room to the edge of the archway, and soft music played over the suite’s sound system.
The Sheik's Kidnapped Bride Page 6