The Sheikh’s Contract Fiancée

by Leslie North

  She nodded, pushing off him, wriggling out of her pants quickly. He slid his own pants off, tossed his shirt aside, and pulled her between his legs, her back pressed up against his chest.

  “I just want to do one thing first,” he whispered, lust clouding him, searing hot trails through his veins. His hands drifted between her legs. He stroked her inner thigh while dragging fingertips over the damp fabric of her panties. She shivered in his arms, goosebumps rising on her skin. He pressed soft kisses along the back of her neck while he dragged his thumb over the stiff peak of her clit.

  She tensed, a whimper escaping her. He pinched at her clit through the panties, then slid a finger under the fabric, the slick folds of her pussy welcoming him. He moaned in her ear, pinching and massaging her clit, and then slipped a finger inside her. Heat flooded him. Her pussy was softer and tighter than he could have imagined. He took a soft bite of her shoulder, working his fingers in and out, thumb knocking against the base of her clit.

  Annabelle clutched at his forearm, fingernails digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth, rocking slightly beneath her, desperate to feel her wrapped around him, but not before she had her own peak under the stars.

  Imaad rubbed at her, breathing heavily into her ear, her hips bucking and tensing as he worked her. She whimpered, head lolling back over his shoulder, and then she stilled against him, mouth caught open.

  A little groan emerged, and then her breath hitched. “Ohhh, Imaad!” He didn’t let up, not for a second.

  “Look up.” He rolled her clit between his fingers, watching as she came undone in his arms, her eyes popping open to look at the sky as she shuddered with pleasure.

  Her chest heaved for a few moments, and he dragged his lips over her bare shoulder, loving the sticky, sweaty seal between them, the dampness on his fingers, the hazy euphoria she wore like a cloak.

  “Fuck.”

  He laughed, nipping at her earlobe. “How was that orgasm under the stars?”

  “Life changing.” She came to her knees, eyes glinting. “And now it’s your turn.”

  Imaad welcomed her on top of him as she bent her legs behind her, settling on top of the bulge in his briefs. “I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, dragging his lips over the tops of her breasts.

  “I don’t care.” She skimmed her nipples across his face. “I have an IUD.”

  He pushed his underwear down, cock springing free. She cooed as she rubbed her palm up and down his length, sending a powerful shudder through him. He cupped her breasts as she settled into place again.

  “I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered, yanking aside her panties. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

  His mouth parted as she sank down on top of him, her velvety heat wrapping around him like the most precisely fitting glove. He groaned, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation hijacked his brain, rendering him immobile and useless in the presence of such a powerful pussy. She giggled, sinking down on top of him until there was no more space left. Her breath hitched once he was buried to the hilt, and she rocked on top of him, starting a slow rhythm, one that made him grunt with pleasure.

  “Jesus.” Her breath came out in short puffs as she rode him, rocking in devilishly slow circles on top of him. “I could stay here all night.”

  “Please.” He tilted his head back, and her lips found his, the tangy floral scent scorching through him, as if she’d branded him. She bounced on top of him, her heavy breasts jiggling at his chin, and he groaned, grabbing at her hips, desperate for her to slow down and draw this out but unwilling to make her stop.

  “You feel…” The rest of his sentence withered in the air between them, and she rode him harder, bucking like a wild animal on the plains, her silky heat crashing down and then rising up, over and over again, until his head spun and the dam broke and every bit of pent up energy rushed forward at once.

  He groaned low and gravelly, gripping at her hips, letting out a guttural noise that traveled through the Salt Desert like a cry from a wandering animal. Annabelle didn’t let up, bucking against him, and he came so long and hard that his head dropped to her chest.

  Annabelle breathed heavily against him, running her fingers through his hair. Nobody said anything for a long time.

  Once his head cleared enough to speak, Imaad looked up at her, found a warm and secret smile waiting for him.

  “I saw stars,” he croaked, arms fastened around her, sweat pooling in the crease of his elbows. “But they were in my eyes.”

  Annabelle grinned, kissing his forehead. “I’d say that counts.”

  9

  Annabelle returned to her hotel room around noon the next day, feeling a lot like her walk of Shame had originated in the bowels of Hell. When she woke up sweating and confused on the same tiny mattress as Imaad, her breasts exposed, the scorching sun brought clarity to her mind. Burnt away all that lusty fog that had rolled in the night before like a poison gas.

  Her neatly stacked clothes in her hotel room and the piles of documents reminded her of her job here, the one job she had to do. Merge the companies. Regret piled around her like mountains, as high and sandy as the dune they’d fucked on the night before.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. What had gotten into her? It hadn’t even been a full moon, one of the excuses that occurred to her during the mostly-awkward return trip to Minarak. So she couldn’t blame it on that. Hell, she didn’t even have alcohol as a crutch. They’d been sober as birds.

  Imaad’s strong arms circling her waist, his biceps bulging, flashed through her mind, and she crumpled into the chair. Why was he so sexy? And now, they’d fucked. Without protection, no less. In the middle of the goddamn Salt Desert.

  If she’d only been sent here to merge the companies, it would be considered a work trip faux pas, at best. But now the man was not only her future business partner but also—technically—her fiancé, one she didn’t want, their looming marriage no more than a sham. This would only make life intolerably awkward from here on out, and it was entirely her fault.

  You could have not kissed him again. You’d said no. You got him to stop. But then you took it further.

  Saying no to a man like Imaad was not in her nature. Business partner be damned. And she couldn’t regret those orgasms, either. They had rocked her senseless, sent her into outer space. Every metaphor coined by eighties rockers applied to those orgasms.

  Fuck.

  She headed for the bathroom, eager for a cold shower and a nap. The meeting with the board wasn’t until tomorrow morning, so she had plenty of self-loathing and wine drinking to get caught up on before then. Imaad had woken up at her side cheerful and sweet, but her own crushing guilt and remorse pushed her to give him the cold shoulder.

  You’re always the one who makes things awkward.

  But why shouldn’t she? Men were for sex, or the occasional non-work friend, but nothing more. The fact that she’d blurred those lines with someone so intimately involved in her business dealings here felt like the worst kind of failure.

  Annabelle showered as quickly as she could, careful not to let her hand wander between her legs as images of their night on the dunes flashed through her head. They wouldn’t leave her—might never leave her. Imaad had won all sorts of awards in the few days she’d known him. Most Abrupt Personality Change. Most Romantic First Date. Sexiest Night in the Desert. King of Foreplay.

  She leaned against the wall, letting herself relive that breathtaking orgasm when he’d fingered her into bliss. The man was good. Too good. That wouldn’t be easy to forget, but she’d have to do her best.

  Once she toweled off and sprawled across her bed to dry, she picked up her phone to text Marian. Fingers hovering over the letters, she contemplated what update she might give.

  Gave into my sexy fake fiancé; might be carrying his child.

  No, that would require way too much explanation. She hadn’t told anyone yet about the secret marriage arrangement. It seemed shameful to admit h
er father had sold her like that.

  Had mind-blowing sex in a salt flat yesterday. Came four times. Might be in love with the Parsian guy now.

  She shook her head. Nope. That wouldn’t work either. It had to be simple and useful.

  “Hey, Marian. How’s everything going back home? Things are good here. Meeting with board tomorrow. Saw the desert yesterday, very lasting impression.”

  She sent it before she could think twice, and then buried her face in her pillow, letting out a muffled scream.

  Imaad knocked on his father’s door, jittery with nerves. This was the big day, the day of the board room presentation, where Annabelle would state her case and make her offer on behalf of her father’s firm. His anxiety was sky high because Annabelle had basically refused to speak to him since he’d dropped her off at her hotel yesterday. She’d woken up in a funk, no doubt caused by their sexy, sandy adventure.

  But as far as he could see, their passion out on the dune should have brought them closer, not made them feel like two teens after their first time. They could both cite plenty of reasons it shouldn’t have happened, but thank God it did.

  The feel of her ass in his hands burned through him. Annabelle was a lingering memory at every turn, constantly flitting around the back of his mind, like fireflies at dusk. He couldn’t shake her. And now, he was desperate to see her again. Almost twenty-four hours without laying eyes on her was too long.

  Imaad pushed into his father’s office, eager for a little chat before the meeting. His father looked up from some papers, an eyebrow arched.

  “Hello, Father.” Imaad sat in the leather armchair facing his desk, squeezing the armrests.

  “Son. Is everything okay?” His father must have sensed the strange energy around him. He rarely came to the office unless summoned directly.

  “Yes, of course. Just eager for the meeting.” He didn’t know how to voice the feeling that lurked inside him. Didn’t even know where to begin.

  A moment of silence passed. “How is the girl? Annabelle.”

  “Oh, she’s great. Very lovely. I took her to the dunes yesterday.”

  His father smiled knowingly. “Excellent choice, son. You know, these arranged marriages take time. There’s a process involved. You will love her someday—it just takes time.”

  Imaad fingered the cuff of his navy suit jacket, unsure how to respond to the unsolicited advice. But what if I love her much sooner than that? The words felt traitorous, like they’d come from someone else’s head. What had gotten into him? Annabelle looked and acted like the woman of his dreams—so what? Didn’t mean he knew her at all or had any reason to feel so…inclined toward her.

  “I know this part can be scary. Agreeing to spend your life with a stranger.” His father’s voice took on a melancholy tone. “But we’ve all been there. And it works out for the best. You know that these arranged marriages have a higher success rate than love marriages.”

  Except ours was doomed from the start. “Yes. That’s very encouraging.”

  “You two look very good together,” his father added. “I think I might be rather excited for the wedding.”

  Imaad smiled briefly, coming to his feet. “Me, too. I’m going down to the conference room to see if Annabelle has arrived. I’ll see you there.” He left his father’s office feeling both unsettled and strangely confident. His father’s advice resonated as absurd but eerily accurate. He didn’t know what to think anymore, other than wanting more Annabelle.

  Down a few floors, the hallway bustled with arriving board members. He spotted Annabelle through the dark heads, her blonde hair and ruby lips a beacon to him. He rushed over to her, grinning broadly.

  “Morning.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You ready?”

  She glanced up at him, smiling briefly. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

  He took a moment to look her up and down. The woman had impeccable taste. Another highly professional but extremely sexy work suit fit her nicely, showcasing those lush curves that still cropped up in his head on the hour.

  “Do you need anything from me?” He asked it as she started to turn away.

  She shook her head. “No, I think I’m good. But thank you for asking.”

  They shared an awkwardly long look, and then she tore herself away, heading into the board room. Imaad sighed testily, unsure why this tension bothered him so much. With chemistry as explosive as theirs, there shouldn’t be any tension. And he wanted to get to know her. Invite her over to his place. Continue exploring the fascinating depths of her, in all senses.

  He walked into the chilly conference room, taking a seat across from Annabelle. Board members filed in, carbon copies of each other, all men in suits with dark hair, followed by both of his brothers. His father arrived a few moments later, and after some greetings and conversation, everyone settled into place.

  Imaad’s father opened the meeting with some stiff formalities. After introducing Annabelle to the board members, she took the lead.

  “Hello, everyone.” She smiled politely, spreading some documents in front of her. “As we all know, two companies are going to merge into one. This process has been in the works for some time, but only today can we finalize it.”

  The board members listened politely as she spoke, her voice ringing clear and professional in the room. Imaad sat, transfixed by her, as she delivered her presentation. She covered the existing state of operations for both companies and what the proposed operations would look like as soon as next year. She detailed the plans for new divisions of each company in each country and how these two disparate organizations were a natural and obvious fit as they both sought to grow.

  “In conclusion,” she said, her gaze darting around the table to all her stone-faced audience members, “only with the merging of our two fine companies will either of us have a chance to realize the future that has always been destined for us. I hope that you will all vote to merge, as I have shown here why that’s the best choice.”

  Silence descended on the room, her words still ringing in his ears. Imaad looked around, desperate to start a round of applause to recognize her, to give her the accolades she deserved after that spot-on presentation. Her gaze met his, unsure, and he nodded his head. A smile ghosted across her face.

  His father did it first. He started clapping, nodding his head, and soon the other board members joined in. Imaad clapped, smiling over at Annabelle. You did it. He was proud of her—coming to his country to make that sort of sales pitch was no easy task. Especially when she was the only woman in the room, fifteen sets of stony eyes trained on her.

  “We’ll be signing soon,” Imaad’s father declared as the board members stood to take their leave. “We’ll inform you of the first phase of changes as soon as the information is made ready.”

  Imaad waited as everyone filed out of the room, his eyes on Annabelle. She approached him, folders clutched to her chest.

  “Excellent job.” He offered his hand for a shake, which she took hesitantly.

  “Thank you. Merger complete.” She smiled briefly. “Well, almost. Once I sign.”

  “And get married. But before that, I’d like to celebrate.” His words fell heavily in the now empty conference room. Annabelle lifted a brow.

  “You won’t get me back out into the desert.” She laughed a little, but it faded quickly.

  “No. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.” When her eyebrows scrunched together, he added, “A business dinner. Entirely professional.”

  He waited with bated breath for her answer. If she told him no, he might go crazy. Even just looking at her was enough. He just needed more Annabelle.

  “Sure. I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad idea.” She smiled tightly at him and strutted out of the conference room, leaving a fragrant trail of perfume in her wake.

  Imaad watched the door close behind her, satisfaction meandering through him. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

  10

  Annabelle
scurried around her room to gather her purse. Getting ready for the dinner had taken doubly long, since she’d changed her dress three times trying to achieve the exact balance of “I don’t care about you” and “Sexier than fuck” for her business dinner with Imaad.

  It would cause a stir, but she didn’t care. She wanted to make a little commotion. The black dress dipped dangerously low, and the slit up the side went similarly high. Teasing him seemed par for the course, though she wasn’t sure why. All she knew was that this was a game she sometimes liked to play…even though less than twelve hours ago, she’d been staunchly anti-game.

  She flip-flopped. So sue me. She snapped her handbag shut and looked over the room one last time before heading down to the lobby, where Imaad surely had to be waiting if he was as punctual as usual.

  When the elevator doors slid open on the lobby, she spotted him immediately. In a black suit and immaculate hair, he was just as done up as she. And maybe with the same intention—blending business meeting with provocation. She swallowed a knot in her throat, approaching him hesitantly. You’re gonna bone him again. You already know it.

  “Hey.” She smiled, avoiding his gaze. She wouldn’t be weak this time. She was going to honor that boundary, once and for all. Besides, if she started sleeping with him regularly, she might develop feelings for him. Imaad seemed like the type of guy she could fall for. And then what? Her father would win.

  Imaad took a moment to look her up and down, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “What?” She creased her brow.

  “You look stunning.” He offered his hand. She took it, and he lifted the back of her hand to his lips. She couldn’t fight the smile.

  “So do you.” Stunning was an understatement for that man. He could make women wilt on the street around him, like delicate blooms in the sun.

  “Let’s go. Our reservation is waiting.” He pressed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her toward the entrance. Her breath hitched—his mere touch sent lightning through her. This reaction was bad news. Her heels clicked over the granite stones of the outside patio as he led her to the car. He held the door open for her, and she caught his gaze sliding down her chest.