by Tara Pammi
“I put my life on hold for so many years to look after my mom. And I never once weakened, or resented her for it. I would never weaken you, Zayn. How could I?
“There have been kings and presidents and heads of state all over the world throughout history who married for love, who chose to reach for a little personal happiness, too, and they have only thrived.
“If you think I would become a liability to you—” her voice caught here, her throat a mass of emotions “—then you’re not the man I thought.”
A gold blaze flared in his eyes, drenching her entire being in a joy that she couldn’t contain. “And if I told you that I came to the same conclusion, only a little slower than you? That I could shoulder all the responsibility in the world if I have you by my side, that you make everything joyful, meaningful?”
There was no stopping her tears now. Her heart thundered into life as if all it had been doing until now was pump blood. “You tricked me! You still think this is some kind of power struggle between us. You...”
“You left me no choice but to trick you. I...could not find you and I...went crazy imagining all kinds of scenarios.”
“I was never in any kind of trouble, Zayn.”
“Trouble? No.” A stark need filled his eyes then. “You’re the most capable woman I have ever known, Amalia. Some nights I found myself fervently wishing you weren’t so strong and independent, so stubborn that—”
Throat raw, she said, “I know what you wish I was, but this is who I am.”
“You misunderstand me. It took you—your strength, your spirit, your independence—all of you to unlock my heart. So much that I have this unbearable feeling inside my chest that it is I who is not enough for you. My worry was that you must have realized you deserved a man who recognized that, who loved you like you should be loved.
“I was terrified that you went back to Massi, had written me off completely.”
Amalia could do nothing but stare at Zayn, at the vulnerability that punctured every word he uttered. She went to him then, any anger she’d held on to as a defense melting at the warmth in his words.
He clutched her to him hard, driving the breath out of her lungs. Hard body shuddered around her, telling her more than his words ever could. He loved her, she knew it now, even if he had yet to say it. But feelings and emotions were hard for him. He’d been trained to view them as weaknesses, trained to believe that he needed no one and nothing.
He had taken an enormous risk on her, this man who didn’t put one step wrong if he thought it would hurt Khaleej and the perception about him. He had made himself vulnerable for her. And for now that had to be enough.
They all kept crowing she was far too opinionated, far too independent to be good for him, didn’t they? Well, she was. And she couldn’t bear for him to second-guess himself. “I’ve never loved and will never love a man like I love you, Zayn. What do I have to do to make you believe that?”
His fingers clasped her face, and such sheer happiness, such liquid joy, dawned in his eyes that Amalia forgot to breathe. Just that smile of his was enough to hurtle her into falling in love with him all over again. A smile, she knew, no one but she had witnessed. That was all for her, only her.
A jagged breath left him as he leaned his forehead against hers. “My heart belongs to you, ya habibti. This feeling, this cavernous void in my chest as if I had left an essential part of me somewhere, as if I would never feel whole again... I have never felt anything like it. I have never resented everything I have to be as I do when you’re not with me.
“You’ve opened my heart. I love you, Amalia.”
His mouth covered hers then and Amalia melted into his touch. Every cell, every inch of her, felt like it was touched with light, with a piercing sharp awareness. Lacing her fingers around his nape, she moved under his expert caresses hungrily, opening up for him, like a flower did for a sun. The fluid power of his lean body, the hard rattle of his heart against hers, she had never felt more powerful; never had she reveled so much in being alive.
A shiver danced over her spine as he widened his legs and cradled her, as his erection imprinted itself against her belly. A month of separation had only made the need to know him in that intimacy that much keener. It was fueled by fear, too, for only in bed, only when they were sharing that deepest intimacy, did Zayn open up to her.
She moved her hands to his lean hips, desperate to have him inside her again. Laughing against her mouth, he pulled back, after he drew her body into a punishingly raw response.
“I would love for nothing but to take you here, latifa, but...” He looked so drugged that Amalia laughed. “I remembered. Where were you, Amalia?”
“With Aslam and my father.”
“I wish you had let me be there with you. I wish you had let me be your strength.”
“But you made me see myself through new eyes. Made me question everything I had ever believed. I was so angry by what my father had done by sending me away with her, I clutched all my mother’s complaints about him and let them feed my hatred.
“If I hated him, I would never have to face the hurt. When I left here, I was so angry with you and with him. With myself. That anger was good, positive.”
“What did he say?”
“I’m still angry with him for giving up on me so easily but I understand why he did it. Mom was always prone to these periods of extreme joy, then would come volatile periods and then these deep, dark periods where nothing could jolt her out of it.
“And their differences and the pressures of marriage didn’t help. When he suggested she needed to seek medical help, she flew off the handle. Even I remember that day when I blocked out everything else. He told me how he realized that life with him made everything only that much harder for her.
“It was the day she told him she wanted a divorce.”
Zayn scowled. “I don’t understand. He thought that she might be suffering from depression and he still let you go with her. That’s the height of negligence.”
She shrugged, and he knew she was still fighting the same fight. He held her in the circle of his arms, wishing he could somehow take away her pain. He wanted nothing in the world to hurt her and yet, a life with him would only be a challenge for her. But he was determined to make up for it, to love her that much more. He would never let her doubt how much he loved her, how important she was to him.
“You do not have to forgive him or give him a place in your life, azeezi. If it’s easier for you to face it, hate him. We will never see him again.”
Eyes shining with unshed tears, she looked up at him. “It hurts, but I see it, Zayn. She promised him she would seek help if he let her have one of us without contest, if he never came back into her life again.
“And he gave me to her instead of Aslam.”
“Because you were the more stable one,” Zayn gritted out. He looked so angry on her behalf that Amalia almost worried for her father. “He knew how much she was going to lean on you. He made you an adult long before you were one.”
“He had no choice and he loved her far too much, I think. More than he loved me or Aslam. And once I left, he had his hands full with Aslam and then his new family. And although she kept her word to him and sought medical help, I think she never forgave him for giving up on her, for not fighting for her.”
Hiding her face in his chest, she took a deep breath. “He...he was so upset when he learned what happened between us.” Zayn stiffened around her and she hurried, “I didn’t tell him about the blackmail part, just that I...fell in love with you.
“We stayed up the whole night talking. I think he was hoping that I’d walk away from you. He said he only saw problems ahead for us.”
“I told him we were nothing like them but he said we have it that much harder.”
“He is right, Amalia. I could not lie to yo
u about what lies ahead for—”
It felt like the bottom fell away from under her feet. Again. “What are you saying?”
“That I love you so much that, apparently, I have to put your happiness above my own, habibti. A life with me will not be easy on you. A royal life is never without pressures but—”
“You think I’m not aware of it. I came fully prepared to take you on and anyone else who stood in my way, Zayn. I... I think if we love each other truly—”
“There is no if about it, latifa. I’m lost without you.”
Her heart on wings, Amalia kissed him hard. “Then we should be able to conquer anything that comes our way. I know I want to be with you more than anything I have ever wanted in life.”
“Will you be my wife, then, Amalia? My sheikha? Will you marry me tonight because I cannot part with you for one more night?”
Amalia nodded, and he took her mouth in a tender kiss that was a promise from the man, and surrender from the sheikh himself.
EPILOGUE
Five years later
THE STARS IN the moonlit sky shone in the dark water beneath, making it look as if they belonged on earth, in that pool, in the house where Amalia made a home with her husband, Sheikh Zayn Al-Ghamdi.
After a month tour of Europe by her husband’s side, along with their son and daughter and their entourage, Amalia was glad to be home. It was hard to travel with their itinerary being so full, with kids and nannies and aides, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world.
She far preferred to have at least glimpses of her husband at a dinner with politicians rather than not see him for weeks on end. They argued ferociously at times, they compromised sweetly sometimes, but to be never apart more than necessary, to work out their differences and share their dreams... Amalia had never even imagined that she would love so deeply, so completely and have it in return.
It had taken five years of marriage for the media and the populace of Khaleej to finally understand that Amalia had every intention of being her husband’s confidante and friend and ally and lover on top of his dutiful wife. That she went on diplomatic tours with her husband. Even when she had been pregnant with Rafiq and Lilah. That she wouldn’t quietly sit in his shadow. That her husband and she shared a true marriage of hearts.
The unconventional sheikha, she’d been named. And she’d grown into it happily.
The conservatives, of course, went on a rabble every time she expressed her views but both she and Zayn had long understood that it was more out of habit and principle than any real objection to her.
With her cup of tea in hand, Amalia retreated to one of the cozy nooks. Propping her feet upon the low divan, she closed her eyes.
She loved this house as much as she loved the man who had designed it.
“I thought you would be in bed by now.”
She put her cup aside and moved over as Zayn settled down next to her on the divan. “You’re done for the night?”
With a chuckle, he nodded. “Is there much left of it?” He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers. The power in his frame still made her breath catch. Even after five years. “I’m sorry, I know this is the first night we have had to ourselves since we returned but—”
Amalia covered his lips with her finger and pressed into him shamelessly. “You’re here now.”
“I missed you, azeezi.”
His arm went around her, his large body coating hers with a warmth she could never get enough of. She turned into his touch eagerly and touched her mouth to his in a lazy kiss. His fingers crawled up her nape and into her hair, holding her still for him. Tendrils of want awoke within her, the raw possession of his touch making her desperate.
“It was nice of Aslam to take the kids,” Zayn said in a voice laced with dark honey. Nimble fingers pushed away the straps of her nightdress, working their way to her breast. Her breath caught, a tight wave of pleasure claiming her lower belly.
“Zayn...” She groaned, stretching into his touch, like a cat. “I wanted to talk about the Center for Women’s—”
The rest of her words morphed into a groan as her wicked husband pushed her into the divan and covered her with his hard body. Instantly, she wrapped her legs around his hips and cradled his thick erection. “Tonight I do not want the sheikha, nor the razor-sharp, wave-making power woman.” He rotated his hips and her head went back at the friction on the aching bundle at her core. “Tonight I want my wife.”
Amalia nodded, speech rendered impossible by the man kissing her with a drugging passion. Large hands moved up her calf, up her knee, her quivering thighs and reached her ready heat. “What is it that you want, ya habibiti?” he whispered against her forehead.
“You, Zayn. Always you,” she managed between blistering breaths and had the reward of seeing the dazzlingly wicked smile of the man she loved, before he entered her and they danced that age-old dance of love again.
* * * * *
The BRIDES FOR BILLIONAIRES series concludes with
MARRIED FOR THE GREEK’S CONVENIENCE
Available January 2017
If you enjoyed this story, don’t miss these other great reads from Tara Pammi
THE UNWANTED CONTI BRIDE
THE SURPRISE CONTI CHILD
THE SHEIKH’S PREGNANT PRISONER
BOUGHT FOR HER INNOCENCE
Available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE PRINCE’S PREGNANT MISTRESS by Maisey Yates.
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The Prince’s Pregnant Mistress
by Maisey Yates
CHAPTER ONE
IT HAD BEEN a perfect night. So beautiful, the white Christmas lights strung across the facades of the buildings in Vail glittering on the snow all around them. Like the stars had dropped down from the sky to light their way.
Yes, the night had been perfect and Raphael even more so. But then, he always was.
Bailey couldn’t quite believe it was real. Even after eight months with him, she couldn’t believe it. He was like something out of a fairy tale, and she was a girl who never thought she’d have a happy ending.
But then she’d met him.
Of course, she only saw him every few months, when he flew into Colorado on business, and never for long enough.
She’d been guarded all of her adult lif
e. So cautious when it came to men and dating. But with Raphael...that caution had never been there. She’d just given herself to him with no thought of self-protection, no thought of anything but how much she wanted him.
She was like a different woman with him. A woman in love.
It was always so frantic when he was there. Tonight was no exception. They’d finished dinner, a walk through the town, then back to the hotel, where he’d consumed her.
There had been an edge to him tonight, an intensity. Not that she was complaining.
She stretched out on the sheets, curling her toes. She was still recovering. She giggled and rolled onto her side, looking toward the bathroom.
The door was closed, a sliver of light visible beneath it. She sighed heavily, waiting for him to come back to bed.
Waiting impatiently.
Tonight felt different. Significant and special.
She loved him so much. She ached with it. She’d never thought she could feel this way about someone. Never thought someone could feel this way about her.
She was ready for more. She was ready for everything.
The bathroom door opened, and her heart skipped a little. That made her smile. It was ridiculous how giddy she was over him. But then, she’d never let a man close enough to her to have this kind of intimacy.
In her waitressing job she got hit on by men all the time. She just wasn’t...swayed by it. At all. She had been thoroughly disenchanted with men by the time she’d moved out of her mother’s home at sixteen. She’d seen too much. Too much heartbreak. Too much screaming.
Bailey had decided to make her own life, her own future. She’d made it to twenty-one a virgin because she’d been so determined to wait until it was right, until she was ready.
And then she’d met Raphael. Her friends barely believed he existed. She’d stopped talking much about him when all she’d gotten were skeptical eye rolls and Raphael? Bailey, are you dating a Ninja Turtle?
He’d never met them because he was so busy whenever he flew in. And then she wanted him all to herself. So yeah, she was giddy. She had a feeling she always would be.