The Sheikh's Son

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The Sheikh's Son Page 10

by Kristi Gold


  After a few blissful moments ticked off, Adan lifted his head from her shoulder and grinned. “I hope you don’t judge me on the expediency of the act.”

  She tapped her chin and pretended to think. “I’ll have to take a point off for that.”

  He frowned. “You are keeping score?”

  “I wasn’t until you mentioned it. However, I’m giving you back that point because you are just so darn cute. So no need to despair, because you’ve earned a perfect ten.”

  He rolled over onto his back, taking his weight away and leaving Piper feeling strangely bereft. “I will do much better next time,” he said in a grainy voice.

  Next time couldn’t come soon enough for her.

  * * *

  Piper McAdams proved to be more enthusiastic than any woman before her. Adan had recognized that during their second heated round of lovemaking at midnight. And again a few hours ago, immediately before dawn, when she’d awakened him with a kiss before urging him to join her in the shower. They’d spent a good deal of time there bathing each other until he took her up against the tiled wall. Still he could not seem to get enough of her.

  Making love to her a fourth time in twenty-four hours seemed highly improbable. He should be completely sated. Totally exhausted. Utterly spent.

  “Smells like something good is cooking in the kitchen.”

  At the sound of her sensual morning voice, Adan glanced over one shoulder to find Piper standing in the opening, wearing his robe. The improbable became possible when his body reacted with a surprisingly spontaneous erection.

  “I’m heating up the ataif that Ghania prepared.” And attempting to hide his sins by paying more attention to the stove than his guest.

  “What is ataif?” she asked.

  Recipe recitation should aid in calming his baser urges. When goats sprouted wings. “Ataif is a Middle Eastern pancake dipped in honey and cinnamon and covered in walnuts. It is served with a heavy cream known as kaymak.”

  “Thank you for such a thorough description, Chef Sheikh. Now, who is Ghania?”

  He was somewhat surprised she hadn’t asked that question first. “Ghania is Qareeb’s wife. They’re the caretakers. She was kind enough to bring the food by a few moments ago.”

  “How nice of her.”

  He afforded her another fast glance before returning to his task. “I received news about my son. According to Maysa, he only awoke one time.”

  “You have cell towers all the way out here?”

  “No. The message arrived by carrier pigeon.”

  “Very amusing,” she said before he felt something hit the back of his head.

  He looked down to see a wadded paper napkin at his feet. “No need for violence. If you care to communicate with someone, you may use the phone in my study. It’s a direct line to the palace that I had installed in the event a military crisis arises.”

  “That’s good to know, and I’d also like to know why you refuse to look at me. I know my hair’s still damp and I don’t have on a scrap of makeup, but it can’t be all that bad. Or maybe it could.”

  If she only knew how badly he wanted her, with or without the feminine frills, she would not sound so unsure of herself. “For your information, you are a natural beauty, and I am trying to retain some dignity since it seems I am unable to cool my engine in your presence.”

  “Still revving to go, are you?”

  Piper’s amused tone sent him around to face her. And if matters weren’t bad enough, she was seated on the high-back bar stool facing him, her shapely thighs completely uncovered due to the split in the white cloth. “Are you naked beneath the robe?”

  She leaned back against the stainless steel island, using her elbows for support. “Yes, I am. I forgot to bring panties into the bath before I showered.”

  He was seconds away from forgetting himself and the food preparation. “Perhaps you should dress before we dine.”

  She crossed one leg over the other and loosened the sash enough to create a gap at her breasts, giving him a glimpse of one pale pink nipple. “Perhaps we should forgo breakfast for the time being.”

  That was all it took to commit a culinary cardinal sin by leaving the pan on the burner. But if the whole bloody kitchen went up in flames, it could not rival the heat he experienced at that moment.

  Without giving her fair warning, Adan crossed the small space between them and kissed her with a passion that seemed to know no bounds. He untied the robe, opened it completely, pushed it down her shoulders and then left her mouth to kiss her neck. He traveled down her bare torso, delivering more openmouthed kisses, pausing briefly to pay homage to her breasts before continuing down her abdomen. What he planned next could prompt her to shove him away, but he was willing to take a chance to reap the reward—driving her to the brink of sexual insanity. A small price to pay for ultimate pleasure, as she would soon see, if she allowed it.

  When Adan parted her knees, he felt her tense and noted apprehension in her eyes. “Trust me, mon ange,” he whispered.

  She smiled weakly. “Considering I’m half-naked on a bar stool, that would indicate I’m no angel, Adan. But I do trust you. So hurry.”

  Permission granted, all systems go. He began by lowering to his knees and kissing the insides of her thighs until he felt her tremble. As he worked his way toward his intended target, she shifted restlessly and then lifted her hips toward his mouth in undeniable encouragement. He used gentle persuasion to coax her climax with soft strokes of his tongue, the steady pull of his lips. As she threaded her fingers through his hair and held on firmly, he sensed he would soon achieve his goal. He wasn’t the least bit wrong. She released a low moan as the orgasm took over, yet he refused to let up until he was certain she’d experienced every last wave.

  Only after he felt her relax did his own desires demand to be met, and so did the need to make haste. He quickly came to his feet, grabbed the condom she’d discarded on the island and ripped open the plastic with his teeth.

  Adan had the condom in place in a matter of moments and then seated himself deep inside her. He tried to temper his thrusts, but when Piper wrapped her legs around his waist, restraint left the bungalow. He couldn’t readily recall feeling so driven to please a woman. He could not remember the last time he had felt this good. His thoughts disappeared when his own climax came with the force of a missile and seemed to continue for an extraordinary amount of time.

  Little by little, logic began to return, including the fact he’d probably turned the cakes into cinders. He lifted his head and sought Piper’s gaze. “I fear I have failed in my chef duties.”

  She reached up and stroked his unshaven jaw. “But you didn’t fail me in your lovemaking duties, and that’s much more important than breakfast.”

  For the first time in his life, he’d needed to hear that declaration from a lover. He’d never lacked in confidence or consideration of his partners’ needs, yet he had kept his emotions at arm’s length with every woman—until now.

  But as much as he wanted to please this beautiful woman in his arms, as much as he would like to give more of himself to her, he wasn’t certain he could. And if his relationship history repeated itself, he would probably fail her, too.

  Seven

  After they arrived back at the airbase and boarded the blasted motorcycle again, Piper feared turning prematurely gray thanks to Adan’s daredevil driving. Fortunately that wasn’t the case, she realized when they entered the palace foyer and she sneaked a peek in the gold-framed mirror. Granted, her hair was a tangled mess, but she couldn’t wait a minute longer to see baby Sam.

  Adan obviously felt the same, evidenced by his decision to forgo the elevator and take the stairs instead. She practically had to sprint to catch up with him as Abdul, who insisted on carrying her bag, trailed behind them.

 
Once they reached the third floor, both she and the houseman were winded, while Adan continued toward the nursery as if he possessed all the energy in the world. He actually did, something she’d learned over the past forty-eight hours in his bed. In his shower. In his kitchen and the pool.

  Before Adan could open the nursery door, a striking woman with waist-length brunette hair walked out, clearly startled by the sheikh’s sudden appearance. “You took years off my life, brother-in-law.”

  “My apologies, Maysa,” he replied, confirming she was the reining queen. “I’m anxious to see about my son.”

  Maysa closed the door behind her before facing Adan. “I have already put him down for the night and I advise you wait until he wakes. You seem as though you could use some rest.” She topped off the comment with a smile aimed at Piper.

  Taking that as her cue, she stepped forward, uncertain whether to curtsy or offer her hand. She opted to let the queen make the first move. “I’m Piper McAdams, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness.”

  “Welcome to the family,” she said, then drew Piper into a surprising embrace. “And please call me Maysa.”

  Piper experienced a fraud alert. “Actually, I’m not really—”

  “Accustomed to it yet,” Adan interjected. “Given time she will take to the royal treatment as an electric eel takes to water.”

  Leave it to the prince to joke at a time like this. “I’m not in the market to be treated royally, but I have enjoyed my time in the palace so far.”

  “I am glad,” Maysa said. “Now, if you will both excuse me, I am starving.”

  Adan checked his watch. “Isn’t dinner later than usual?”

  Maysa shrugged. “No, but Rafiq is waiting for me in our quarters.”

  He winked at Piper before regarding Maysa again. “Oh, you’re referring to a different kind of appetite. Do not let us keep you from our king.”

  “You could not if you tried.”

  Following a slight wave and a smile, Maysa strode down the hallway and disappeared around the corner, leaving Piper alone with the shifty, oversexed sheikh. And she liked him that way. A lot.

  He caught her hand and tugged her against him. “Have I told you how much I enjoyed our time together?”

  “At least ten times, but I’ll never grow tired of hearing it. I’m just sad it’s over.”

  “It doesn’t have to be, Piper. You can stay with me in my suite.”

  She could be entering dangerous emotional territory. “Maybe it should be, Adan. I’ll be leaving in a few weeks.”

  “I know,” he said, sounding somewhat disappointed. “All the more reason to spend as much time together before you depart. I am an advocate of taking advantage of pleasure at every opportunity.”

  How easy it would be to say yes. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “Since we are to give the impression we are married, what better way than to share the same quarters?”

  A false impression of holy matrimony. “We could do that without sleeping in the same bed.”

  He rimmed the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue. “I don’t recall mentioning sleep.”

  And she wouldn’t get much if she agreed, for several reasons. “You have to consider Sam’s needs over ours.”

  He pulled back and frowned. “Exactly as I intend to do, but he doesn’t require all our time during the night.”

  “He requires quite a bit.”

  Framing her face in his palms, Adan looked as if his world revolved around her decision. “Stay with me, Piper. Stay until you must leave.”

  Spending time with this gorgeous Arabian prince, quality time, would be a fantasy come to life. Yet it could never be the real stuff fairy tales were made of. If she took wisdom into account, she’d say no. If she was willing to risk a broken heart, she’d say yes. And she suddenly realized this risk would be well worth undertaking now, even if it meant crying about it later.

  “All right, Adan. I’ll stay.”

  * * *

  In the silence of his private quarters, the room illuminated by the soft glow of a single table lamp, Adan had never experienced such a strong sense of peace. He had the woman curled up next to him to thank for that. Granted, he still wanted Piper in every way imaginable—he’d proved that at his mountain retreat—yet he greatly appreciated the moments they’d spent in comfortable silence after retiring to his quarters.

  That lack of conversation would soon end once he told her what he’d learned from his brother upon their arrival a few hours ago. “I have to go to the base tomorrow to oversee training exercises. It will require me to stay in the barracks overnight.”

  For a moment he’d thought she’d fallen asleep, until she shifted and rested her cheek above his heart. “Gee, thanks. You invite me to reside in your room and then promptly leave me for a whole night.”

  The teasing quality to her voice gave Adan some semblance of relief. “If I had to choose between sleeping in the barracks with twenty snoring men and sleeping with you, I would choose you every time. Unless you begin snoring—then I could possibly reconsider.”

  She lightly elbowed him in the rib cage. “If I did happen to snore, which I don’t, you’d have no right to criticize me. I thought a freight train had come through the bedroom last night.”

  “Are you bloody serious?”

  “I’m kidding, Adan,” she said as she traced a path along his arm with a fingertip. “Your snore actually sounds more like a purr.”

  That did not please him in the least. “I prefer a freight train to a common house cat.”

  “Don’t worry, Prince Mehdi. Snore or no snore, you’re still as macho and sexy as ever.”

  He pressed a kiss against the corner of her smiling, sensual mouth. “You are now forgiven for the affront to my manhood.”

  She yawned and briefly stretched her arms over her head. “Have you ever been in live combat before?”

  The query took him aback. “Yes, I have.”

  “Was it dangerous?”

  He smiled at the zeal in her voice. “Does that prospect appeal to your daring side?”

  “I’m not sure I actually have much of a daring side. I asked because we’re presumed to be husband and wife, so I believe it might be prudent for me to learn all I can about you, in case someone asks.”

  That sounded logical, but not all his military experiences had been favorable. “I’ve been involved in a skirmish or two while protecting our no-fly zone.”

  “Bad skirmishes?”

  This was the part he didn’t speak of often, yet again he felt the need to bare his soul to her. “One turned out to be extremely bad.”

  “What happened?”

  “I killed a man.”

  He feared the revelation had rendered her speechless, until she said, “I’m assuming it was justified.”

  “That is a correct assumption. If I hadn’t shot down his plane, he would have dropped a bomb over the village.”

  “How horrible. Was he a citizen of Bajul?”

  “No. He was a known insurgent from another country. Because the files are classified, I am not at liberty to say which country.”

  She lifted her head and kissed his neck before settling back against him. “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to.”

  Oh, but he did, though he wasn’t certain why. “It happened four years ago,” he continued. “That morning I received intelligence about the threat, and I decided I would enter the fray. Later I found out my father was livid, but only because if I perished, he would be without a commander.”

  “He told you that?” Her tone indicated her disbelief.

  “Rafiq informed me, but it doesn’t really matter now. I assisted in thwarting an attack that could have led to war for th
e first time in Bajul’s history, and that is what matters. But I never realized...”

  “Realized what, Adan?”

  He doubted she would let up unless he provided all the details. “I never knew how affected I would be by sending a man to his death.”

  “I can imagine how hard on you that must have been.”

  “Oddly, I had no real reaction to the incident until the following day while briefing our governing council. Midway through the report, I felt as if I couldn’t draw a breath. I excused myself and walked outside to regain some composure. That night I had horrible dreams, and they continued for several months.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re a very brave and honorable man. Sam is very lucky to have you as his father.”

  He’d longed to hear her acknowledge his honor, but he didn’t deserve that praise in this situation. “There is no honor in taking another life. And now that I have a son, I will stress that very thing to him.”

  “That attitude is exactly what makes you honorable,” she said. “You were bothered by an evil man’s demise to the point of having nightmares. That means you have compassion and a conscience.”

  If that were the case, he wouldn’t have asked her to remain in his quarters for the duration of their time together. Yet he’d not considered anything other than his own needs. And he did need her—in ways he could not have predicted. Still, he couldn’t get too close to her or build her expectations beyond what he could provide aside from being her lover. He wasn’t suited for a permanent relationship, as his family had told him time and again. “We should try to sleep now. I suspect Samuel will be summoning me in less than two hours.”

  She fitted her body closer to his side. “I’ll be glad to take care of Sam tonight while you get your rest.”

  “Again, that’s not necessary.”

 

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