Khalifa was silent for a moment, digesting her interpretation of events. “And it doesn’t bother you that they sold you to a family in a foreign country?”
Her eyes flew to his, confusion swirling in her depths. “They knew your family,” Kylie said thoughtfully. “If anything, I guess I’ve always felt comforted by that. By the fact that they had chosen a marriage for me. I know it’s old fashioned and totally not normal, but they’re never going to be here to meet my boyfriends, to approve of my choice… so I’ll go along with their choice.”
Khalifa expelled a long, slow breath. “I see.” Only Kylie’s parents had chosen as their prospective son-in-law an abusive, alcoholic bastard. The idea of his marrying Kylie, purely for the credibility she would bring to their ancient claim to the throne of Argenon, filled him with latent anger.
“Are you going to eat anything?”
She bit down on her lip. “I’m suddenly… not… hungry.”
He wanted to argue; she could see it in his face that her answer displeased him. And yet he stood, scraping his chair back. He held a hand out to her. “We’ll eat later.”
Later.
Later.
The word swirling around and around her head even as she stood up and fell into step beside him. The hint of his exotic fragrance reached her – a combination of sandalwood and citrus. She breathed it in, and her pulse fired frantically.
Though she knew the boat to be filled with servants, she saw none as they made their way below deck, down a set of highly polished steps, and into a light-filled corridor. They passed two rooms before he stopped walking abruptly, his eyes holding hers. He watched as she looked into the room just beyond, and saw the moment colour bloomed in her cheeks at the sight of the bed.
It was a custom-make, like all his beds – even a King-size wasn’t large enough for Khalifa. He liked beds that were longer, and left plenty of room for adventure.
The kind of adventure he was about to enjoy with Kylie.
When he’d come to Sydney, he’d known seduction was essential. Only by taking her innocence would he be able to end her marriage prospects to the Haddad family. What he hadn’t bargained on was that he’d want her. For real.
Actual want.
And suddenly the enormity of what he was going to do – using her virginity to end her engagement – sat heavily around his neck. But he sure as hell wouldn’t let her marry Fayez.
Renewed commitment to his plan saw him move an inch closer to her. “I do not want you to marry me if you’re not sure. And I cannot marry a woman who doesn’t suit me in bed.” His eyes held a challenge, one that made her heart squeeze and her stomach roll.
“So if I don’t … if we don’t … you’ll call off the wedding?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. How easily he could manipulate her. She’d given him all the information he would need to do it. Her fear of owing the Haddads millions of dollars, for instance. Only he wouldn’t force her into this. No matter how badly he wanted to end her betrothal, he was still a man of honour.
He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at her.
“This is your decision,” he said quietly, allowing her to make it. Trying to give her space to think.
Kylie nodded jerkily, tilting her head towards the bed. It was enormous and anxiety was now holding her back. It wasn’t a lack of desire – she wanted him more than she could express, but suddenly her lack of experience was an enormous obstacle.
“You have choices,” he heard himself offer into the silence. It continued to stretch between them, taut and long. Her throat moved visibly as she swallowed and he wondered at this odd desire to counsel her instead of seduce her. To protect her interests – rather than his country’s.
“I know.” A soft murmur. She continued to stare at his bed, her colour deepening. “I’m not marrying you because I think I have to. Believe it or not, I want this marriage as much as my parents wanted it for me. It mattered to them, so it’s always mattered to me.”
Regret was a stone in his gut. He would have happily paid off her debts to the Haddad family if she had expressed a desire to be free of the union.
“I don’t know what to do.” A plaintive whisper as she looked up at him, her eyes huge.
He frowned. “You just said you want to go through with it…”
“I do. I don’t mean that.” She toyed with her fingers in front of her, but didn’t look away from his intense stare. “I mean in there. I don’t know what to do.” She cleared her throat awkwardly and he almost groaned.
“All you have to do is feel.” He scooped down and picked her up then, cradling her against his chest as he carried her into the bedroom.
Flashes of colour left brief impressions on Kylie’s surprised mind. The paintings on the walls – bright red and gold. The black of his bedlinen that had a gold thread weaved through it, and the frame of the bed which looked to be pure gold. The walls were cream and the floor was carpeted. A chandelier hung above the bed.
He placed her on the bed but didn’t break away from her. His mouth chased hers, seeking it, dominating it, tasting her and his body weight on top of her was heavenly. She felt his heaviness and strength and writhed beneath him, enjoying the play of her softness against his planes and edges.
“Are you sure this is okay?” She asked into his mouth, as her hands ran over his back, feeling his warmth and strength.
“Yes, azeezi.” And his hands moved to the bottom of her dress, sliding it easily up her body, exposing her to his hands and his eyes.
“But the contracts…” She pushed up on her elbows and then extended her arms above her head, helping him to remove the dress completely. He did so quickly, tossing it across the room so that it landed against the wall and slid with a soft thud to the floor.
“I have no interest in the contracts right now.” He kissed the tip of her nose and it was such a strangely sweet gesture that her nerves quelled and she lifted her mouth to his, kissing him back with a passion she’d never known and which she instinctively knew how to wield.
His hands ran over her body, exploring every inch of it, lightly, hungrily, possessively, and she let him, angling herself so that he could touch all of her. She didn’t wear a bra and he disposed of her underpants easily, pushing them down her legs as he brought his mouth onto her bare breast, rolling his tongue over her nipple until Kylie’s breath was rushed and her skin pink.
“Please,” she whimpered, with no clue what she needed. More of this. More of everything.
“Yes,” he nodded, understanding despite the vagueness of her query. He stood, staring down at her as he removed his clothing, one item at a time, never once lifting his gaze from her flushed face. And she was powerless to look away. She stared at him, stared until she was going to explode, and when she could no longer content herself with simply looking, she crawled into a kneeling position, her fingertips running over his chest. He watched her from beneath hooded eyes, her inspection making his arousal harden.
She was tentative and he was hungry for her and yet he let her touch and look, letting her learn what she needed from his body, just as he’d touched her all over. She was curious and she was inexperienced. Her fingers shook as they dipped down his body, ringing circles above his erection, but she didn’t inch lower. She was careful not to go near it. It brought the ghost of a smile to his lips, but his kindness and patience had limits.
He caught her wrist and, his eyes droll, dragged it so that her fingers were hovering above his manhood. And he guided her to touch him, releasing a low groan as her hand tentatively clasped his length.
Heat flared in her eyes. She squeezed him and released, and ran shaking fingers over his tip, her expression shifting from tentative uncertainty to powerful awareness. Her lack of experience was obvious but it didn’t matter. He’d never been more turned on his life. Many more minutes and he’d be finished.
“Enough.” He growled the word with unintended ferocity and kissed her as he pushed her backwards ont
o the bed.
“I’m scared,” she whispered, but it was only a part of what she was feeling.
“I know.” He paused, reaching into the bedside table and removing a condom. He sheathed himself quickly, and then brought his body back over hers.
It was a moment that mattered a hell of a lot. For reasons he appreciated, and reasons he didn’t. Mostly, because he could put an end to the Haddad’s desperate attempts to stir up civil war – their last hope rested around Kylie’s young shoulders.
But it was more than that.
It wasn’t a political move.
It was suddenly a necessity. Sleeping with her was something he needed.
And to know that she was right there with him, caught up in the moment of passion, the heat of desire.
Her first time should be with him. Not that monster Fayez.
“Trust me.” The words were a challenge he almost hoped she’d refuse. How could he ask her to trust him when every word was a lie? When even his identity was being kept from her?
“I do.” She tilted her chin at him defiantly, but her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “I know it’s crazy and I don’t care. I had no idea what this would feel like.”
He groaned, parting her legs with his powerful thighs, spreading her open to him. He paused his tip at her entrance, giving her a chance to change her mind, though he knew she wouldn’t.
The die was cast.
He nudged deeper, using every ounce of his strength to stop himself from doing what he wanted and taking her hard and fast, owning her as his body craved. There would be time for that. Even as he poised to take her innocence, he knew that it would not be their last time together. He would be with her again and again.
Their future was marked now; they were to become one.
“Tell me how you feel,” he commanded unknowingly, the words confidently demanding.
“I feel… strange,” she whispered, shaking her head in instant rebuttal of the word. It was wrong. “Good strange. I feel… I feel…”
He nudged deeper, his palms on either side of his head holding him up high enough to study her. Deeper, and her muscles, so tight, squeezed his length so that he felt like he might explode. But he was attuned to her every move, and her face scrunched beneath him so that he understood her pain and he brought his head lower, pressing a kiss against her lips.
The discomfort was sharp, but it was over almost immediately. She arched her back, needing more, wanting him to push past it and bring her back to pleasure. She moaned softly, lifting her legs around his back and pulling him deeper. He didn’t fight her. He sank into her body, and felt her tremble beneath him.
Letting her body experience him was one thing, but showing her the full strength of what she was capable of feeling quite another. He pulled out slowly and then thrust into her, still not as he wanted to, but enough to send spirals of awareness rioting through her abdomen. She dug her nails into his shoulders, so hard that he wondered if she might be drawing blood. Hard enough for him to worry she was in pain.
But one look at her face showed the rapturous awareness expanding through her. Nonetheless, he dropped his mouth to her ear, and asked, in a gravelled tone, “Okay, lanaria?”
“So, so okay,” she mumbled, running her hands down his back, teasing his flesh in circular patterns, moving lower and lower until she gripped his hips. “Better than okay.”
The air around them crackled with passion. For the briefest moment, Kylie wondered what the hell was going on – only hours earlier she’d been preparing for brunch and now she was making love to a man she barely knew. So why did she feel that she did know him? Was it just the intimacy of that moment fooling her into a sense of knowledge? Was her body playing tricks on her mind?
If so, she was happy to be tricked away.
*
She was spectacular while in the throes of passion. He watched her fall apart three times, holding her in his arms as waves of pleasure unlike anything she’d ever anticipated rocked her to the core of her being. He watched her and he kissed her and he whispered reassurances in his own tongue, not sure if she understood his words – or if she was capable of understanding anything beyond the language of their bodies.
He spoke low and deep and then, when she rode yet another wave, he flipped them so that he was on his back and she was straddling his hips and he held her low and tight against him, bucking into her and finding new pleasure centres. She cried out, arching her back instinctively, offering herself to him and he grunted as he pushed into a sitting position so he could take a breast in his mouth and flick her nipple with his tongue, before transferring his attention to the next. All the while he moved as he’d wanted to all along, hard and fast, lifting one hand to her hair and tangling his fingers in its fine gold lengths, his body slamming against hers; or was it hers slamming his? They moved as one, yet they pushed and pulled against one another, their kiss a torture, an instrument of fierce need, and his body moved with an ancient rhythm that Kylie instinctively recognised and echoed. His release was close, but he held himself in her, waiting until her muscles began to squeeze his length, tormenting him with their sweet responsiveness and finally he succumbed to the explosion that had been building from the second he’d seen her, all sweet and wide-eyed, bare-foot and tanned like an angelic hippy.
He held her tight, knowing somehow that the depth of passion she’d experience was starting to terrify her. He held her against him as her fevered breathing slowed and her trembling eased.
He had made her his, just as he’d set out to do. So why didn’t he feel so euphoric? The wedding would be cancelled. Whatever claim the Haddads were planning on launching would be scuppered.
Why couldn’t he bring himself to feel exuberant? Thrilled?
“That was…” she sighed against him, and it was such a gesture of softness that it somehow hardened him. Softness was not welcome. So far as she was concerned, this was little more than a business arrangement. She’d said as much herself – her marriage to Fayez would have been predicated on the amount of money she owed the Haddad family. And if Khalifa hadn’t come to Sydney and seduced her? She’d have found herself married to an abusive tyrant.
How could she have been so careless as to agree to such a thing?
“Well, I suppose we’ve answered the question of sexual compatibility.” Even to his own ears, the drawled comment sounded sarcastic.
He felt her stiffen in his arms; hell, he felt her stiffen around his length. He was still inside her, feeling her vibrations as they ebbed and slowed.
“I suppose we have.” To her credit, she responded in kind and he admired her that. “So you’re happy to marry me?”
“I think it is a matter in which neither of us has much say now, azeezi.”
Kylie tried not to let his words slide pain over her flesh but it was there – an ache low in her gut that was spreading through her. She nodded, using the movement to dislodge herself from him and standing awkwardly. She winced as her body complained – at his abandonment, certainly, but also at the strange experience of having new muscles twinge with awareness.
He caught the gesture and swore inwardly. “I’ve hurt you.”
“No.” Too fierce. Too swift! She didn’t want him to understand how she was hurting. It wasn’t a physical pain so much as a heart-deep confusion. “I’ll be fine.”
His frown was a storm cloud on his handsome, chiselled face. She looked away and then realised she was naked. She looked around for her clothes; her dress was across the room. She hated having to walk to it and she could feel his eyes on her the whole time. She crouched down, lifting it between her fingertips and sliding it over her body.
Her underpants must have been somewhere but she wasn’t sure she could spare any more pride looking for them.
What the hell had just happened?
“Our wedding is in a month,” he said softly. “Obviously I will expect you to maintain the terms of our contract until then.”
The terms of their con
tract? Her heart swirled in her chest. For a stupid moment in time she had let herself forget the years and years and years of planning that had gone into their union. The agreements that had been negotiated and renegotiated and finally entered into.
So he’d come to Sydney to get a little preview. That did not a meaningful connection make. He was still just a man she barely knew. Albeit one she was going to marry.
“Fine,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Whatever.” And then, steeling herself to keep a poised expression of nonchalance, she spun slowly to face him. “I’d like to go home now.”
CHAPTER FOUR
EVERYTHING ABOUT THE wedding was exquisite, but Kylie was either too jetlagged or too overwrought to fully appreciate it. The five star hotel in Thaïda-yr was as extravagant as it was tasteful. From the moment she’d been deposited the night before, she’d been overawed by the grandeur of the place. The highly-polished marble floor, the gold and crystal chandeliers, the tapestries that hung on the wall – rich burgundies and gold threads with thick cream frames.
And it had all got bigger and bigger. From first thing in the morning when a team of hair and makeup artists had arrived and set about transforming her into what her groom expected – and that involved a lot of grooming. Her cheeks flushed pink as she thought of the women who’d appeared with a pot of hot wax and proceeded to remove all hair from her body – barring the long blonde ones on her head! She’d been exfoliated all over, wrapped in warm muslin clothes that had been sprayed with a lightly fragranced oil and left to marinade for two hours while someone else did something weird to her face and another person trimmed the ends of her hair and then washed and dried it.
After a day of pampering, Kylie was glowing and exhausted. But she was also beautiful – just what a man like The Sheikh would expect. Embarrassment and something else swooped in her gut. She’d let him make love to her and she still didn’t even know his first name. She’d searched the Haddad family online and seen a few references to powerful cousins but there were no pictures online. A very frustrating and almost impossible to believe occurrence in this day and age. Then again, the family was renowned for their privacy.
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