by Leslie North
Catelyn’s arms went around his neck, and then her palms settled on his shoulders as he sank to the floor, taking her jeans—and her panties—to her feet. He stripped them off and threw them to the side.
The open shirt with the bra beneath it was killing him slowly, and when he stood again he was too rock-hard to think about the bed. Catelyn pounced, diving in for another kiss, and he lifted her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. He braced her with one hand while he undid his belt and shoved his pants down. The moment his thickness made contact with Catelyn’s hot slit, she bucked against him.
Rami felt wild. He needed to claim her—take back the time, somehow, that they’d had to spend apart that day. With his lips pressed to her shoulder he backed her up to the wall of the suite, pinning her there. She wriggled against him, trying to take him in, but he held himself back, kissing her, teasing her.
“This is how I’ve felt all day,” he murmured into her ear. “Waiting for you to come back from all those other people…”
“That was obviously a mistake,” Catelyn gasped. “I should—I should never have…” She let out a moan that was pure frustration. “Rami, don’t make me—”
“Don’t make you what? Make you wait? Turnabout is fair play…”
“It’s not fair.” Her blue eyes were shaded with lust. “It’s dirty.” Then a smile spread across her face. “And I like it that way…”
Her hips found the perfect angle, and Rami let her slide home, connecting with such a deep thrust that it forced the air from Catelyn’s lungs. “Oh—”
“I love it when you sound like that.” The words slipped from his mouth unbidden, all his senses captivated by the wet, tight feeling of her along his shaft. He pumped in a hard, furious rhythm, and Catelyn held on. He could tell by her pulses and clenches that she was already close. Her breath hitched, hitched—
As she exploded around him, Rami caught her cries in his mouth, devouring them, and he came hard, the tension releasing with his orgasm. His mind went perfectly blank and clear. Catelyn pressed her lips, hot and soft, against the side of his neck.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” she whispered, a little laugh following it.
He let her slide slowly to the floor, then dragged his fingers to the place where her pulse beat at the side of her neck. “So is yours.”
“We must be made for each other,” Catelyn whispered, eyes dancing.
“We must be.”
“We must be—” Her eyes flew to the clock on the bedside table. “On time for the rodeo! Rami!” She scolded him as she scrambled for her clothes, running back into the bathroom to paint on those jeans for the second time. He watched her go, the round curve of her ass delicious as she ran. A moment later, he heard the water running. “Aren’t you coming?” she called.
“Where?” He reached for his pants.
“Into the shower,” she said, and his entire body hummed with pleasure and confidence. “We don’t have much time…”
“I wouldn’t waste it.” Rami followed her then, stripping off his clothes and climbing into the hot stream with her. With Catelyn smiling up at him, he felt ready to conquer the party.
No—the world.
16
It was going so well. Catelyn took a sip of the most delectable cocktail she’d ever had in her life, savoring it while she listened to Rami talk to a couple—Mr. and Mrs. Corbin—who were at the top of the food chain in the little town where Lydia owned her estate.
“I’ve found that scarcity plays quite the role in any business,” he said, looking Mr. Corbin in the eye. “So many things are made precious by the fact that they are so unique.” He looked at Catelyn when he said this, and she felt her cheeks heat up in spite of herself.
“You’re too much,” she told her husband with a grin, then turned her attention to Mr. and Mrs. Corbin. “It was so good to see you here,” she said. They’d been talking about the Corbins’ restaurant chain for the perfect amount of time. Rami glanced at her again, and she felt the question in his eyes—time to go? She gave him a tiny nod, accepted another round of congratulations from the Corbins, and let him lead her away.
“When did you have time to study?” she asked him in a low voice.
He laughed. “Study?”
“You know everything about these people. I can feel all that knowledge simmering beneath the surface.”
Rami’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t feel that I’m overdoing it.”
“No,” she said quickly. “You’re not. I’m just…impressed at how much local knowledge you have.”
“I wouldn’t have any of it if it weren’t for you.” Rami put a hand on the small of her back and steered her toward an opening in the crowd. “You made it pretty clear that Lydia likes to be noticed and praised. Praise means nothing if it’s without context.”
“So you taught yourself the complete context.”
“Not entirely. I had you to help.”
Catelyn felt warm and contented as they made their way through the ballroom, taking a breather from the last round of conversations. Rami hadn’t been nearly so awkward at this event. He was really listening to her—when she put her hand in the crook of his elbow and gave him the gentlest squeeze, he deftly wrapped up conversations or steered them in a new direction.
She was proud.
Catelyn had braced herself for another repeat of the night she’d first met Rami, but there had been surprisingly little for her to do, other than make excuses when it was time to move on to the next person. Otherwise, he was collected and under control. He was Sheikh Rami, but with an openness that he hadn’t had before.
A bell rang, loud and clear, and a deep male voice announced that it was time for dinner.
The volume of conversation in the ballroom rose as people turned and made their way to the round tables, this time decked out in a rodeo theme. Each centerpiece was made from a miniature saddle.
“How does she think of these things?” Catelyn mused as they sat down.
“I’ve heard,” Rami answered in a low voice. “That our hostess, in fact, hires the best event designers in Texas.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Catelyn warned with a smile. “But she would be happy to hear that you know she never settles for second-best.”
Two other couples joined Rami and Catelyn at the table. One couple was about their age, and Catelyn knew the woman—Rachel—from the beginning of her internship with Morris International.
“I didn’t know you were married,” Rachel said, eyes shining, after the two women had greeted each other and introduced their husbands. “How did I miss that?”
“It was fast,” Catelyn admitted. “I didn’t…announce it beforehand.”
“You should have.” Rachel was newly married herself—Catelyn had attended her wedding a year ago last spring, just before she’d started her planning business—but she looked at Rami from beneath her eyelashes and lowered her voice. “He is delicious.”
“He really is. What have you and Jason been up to? I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t checked in as much as I meant to.”
Rachel’s eyes lit up. “We bought a house!”
“Show me immediately,” Catelyn demanded, and Rachel pulled her phone from her purse.
She got so caught up in looking at photos of the cutest house in all of Texas that she forgot to listen to Rami. As Rachel scrolled to the last photo, it was as if his voice snapped back into range like a radio catching a signal. Rami was laughing.
“Oh, no,” he was saying. “Our distribution model was optimized years ago. I have a team of people dedicated to researching it. But we plan to emphasize our in-house refinery technology when it comes time to partner with new distributors.”
Catelyn looked up from Rachel’s phone. She’d been so excited to see her friend that she hadn’t registered the second couple.
And it was Micheal and Elizabeth Granger, Texas oil barons.
They were Rami’s direct competitors.
“I wish I had an entire team of people to research wedding trends,” she said, knowing even while the words were escaping her that it was a totally abrupt way to break into the conversation.
Elizabeth Granger turned her big gray eyes on Catelyn, a little smile playing at the corners of her lips. “If I’m remembering correctly, you work for a bridal magazine?”
“Actually—” Elizabeth Granger was close enough to Lydia to know that Catelyn was in the planning business, not the journalism business, but never mind all that. “I started an event planning company in New Jersey. And technically I do have a small team of people working with me, but there’s only so much—”
“Catelyn—” Rami let a hint of irritation show in his voice.
“—there’s only so much outside research we can do when we’re busy making sure events run smoothly,” Catelyn finished. She’d long since lost Michael Granger, who’d looked back down at the steak on his plate.
At their side of the ballroom, a six-piece ensemble that had been hired for the occasion struck up a lively tune, and all around her, people got up to dance.
“Oh, Rami, let’s go.” Catelyn stood up and took his hand, insisting through her grip that he follow her.
“I’d love to continue this,” he said over his shoulder as she pulled him away from the table. Far, far away. Far enough that they found themselves on the dance floor just as a slower song began to play.
Rami stepped automatically into position, his hand on Catelyn’s waist, his other hand holding hers lightly. He frowned at her as he moved them around the dance floor.
“I didn’t know you could dance so well,” Catelyn said.
“What happened back there?” His eyes flashed. “I was getting along with them very well.”
Catelyn swallowed hard. “You were revealing your negotiation strategies to a direct competitor.”
Rami’s eyebrows flew upward. “What? That was Michael Porter.”
“That was Michael Granger and his wife Elizabeth.”
Rami pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Ah. So that was your way of rescuing us from imminent disaster?”
“That’s exactly what that was.” Catelyn laughed. “I had to take a page from your book to do it, though.” She shook her head. “That was not the smoothest conversation I’ve ever held in my life.”
“It wasn’t so bad. All in all, I’d declare that a success.”
The song changed, getting a little faster, and couples all around them stepped apart. Rami only grinned down at her. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
In answer, he stepped right into the beat, swirling her around the entire outside of the floor, steering her so expertly that she never had to think about where they were going. She felt the music through the palms of his hands as much as she heard it with her ears, and she laughed out loud in delight. “What is this? Your way of proving that you’re utterly in control?”
“I am utterly in control.” Rami’s eyes heated. “Didn’t I prove that to you earlier?”
“You proved it once.” Catelyn was breathless, her heart beating in a rapid rhythm. It was so much more pleasant than the jagged way it beat when she saw him approaching another fumble in a conversation. She hadn’t even been looking for it with the Grangers—she’d been that confident. Now, in Rami’s arms, she felt that confident again. How could she not? He was so good at dancing that she let herself relax into it.
“Was that not enough?” Rami’s voice was low and smooth, and she wanted more of it. She wanted more of this assertive version of him who pressed her up against the wall and claimed her right there.
“I want more,” she said simply. “I want more of you.”
It was true on more than one level, though the song transitioned into a beat far too fast to dance to. Catelyn recognized it as the instrumental version of a song from the radio. She didn’t argue when Rami led her off the dance floor.
“I want more of you.” He looked into her eyes for a long moment before he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. Then his breath brushed against the shell of her ear. “We could sneak out early.”
“We can’t.” Catelyn batted him away playfully. “You still have to talk to Lydia.”
“I talked to her earlier. At the rodeo.”
“That was only a quick greeting—”
Then his eyes locked on hers. “A quick greeting is all she’s going to get,” he said, and Catelyn shivered at the command in his voice. “My wife requires more. Let’s go.”
17
Catelyn sipped the last of her coffee, her hair lit by the morning sun as she looked out over the verdant grounds of Lydia’s estate. Rami couldn’t help but admire her—standing there, in front of the window, sleep rumpled and warm. They’d had a good time last night. Especially once they left the party.
“All right,” Catelyn said, turning away from the view and putting her coffee cup on a small table by the window. “I’d better get dressed.”
Rami had been ready for an hour. It was the day of the big pitch meeting, and it was going to take place on Lydia’s private gun range. He didn’t know much about guns—those were for his bodyguards to deal with—but he was confident that his business acumen would carry him through the day. Things had gone well enough last night at the party that he wasn’t worried about it. “Where are you headed?”
Catelyn arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m going with you.”
“Going with me where?”
“To the range.” Her mouth quirked in a smile. “Lydia invited me last night. I thought you heard.”
He hadn’t heard. “That was kind of her.”
Catelyn cocked her head to the side. “You look unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy,” he said. It wasn’t a lie—not exactly. He was not unhappy that Catelyn had been invited. But he was uneasy. This was purely a business meeting, and it was exactly the kind of meeting that Catelyn couldn’t be involved in. It concerned too many confidential details about the agreement with Lydia, and that was delicate business. He forced himself to smile at her. “We’re meeting in less than an hour. You’d better hurry.”
The moment the bathroom door closed behind her, Rami turned away, taking Catelyn’s place at the window. The view didn’t calm him.
This affected more than just the two of them. It was a matter of national security, and it had to stay private, protected, because they were going to be divorced in a year. He couldn’t risk it.
His stomach turned. It felt disgusting, planning with her, taking her advice—even bringing her on the trip—knowing that he’d have to turn around and deny her this.
But could he? Lydia was the person he was trying to charm, and it would not be good for him if he arrived without his wife. It was why he’d married her, after all. For just this moment. Wasn’t it?
He was deep in thought when Catelyn emerged, fully dressed, her hair in a low bun at the back of her head. “Are you ready, husband mine?” Her voice was light, as if she’d forgotten about the final clause of their arrangement.
But Rami’s heart was heavy.
* * *
“It should be good for us both,” Lydia said to him between shots. They’d moved outside to a different set of targets. “Unless there’s something you have reservations about.”
Rami felt off-balance. This wasn’t the high-powered pitch meeting he’d been prepared for. In fact, it was a collection of about twelve people casually shooting at targets and chatting. Lydia spent most of her time focused on Rami. “My only reservation is that—” No. That was a terrible way to phrase it. He sounded like his family was dealing with internal issues. “I don’t have any reservations.”
Lydia was looking past him. “She’s good.”
He turned to follow her gaze. Catelyn stood at the other end of the range, ear protection on and gun in hand. She squeezed off a shot, and Rami blinked at her target. It was very near a bullseye.
“She is,” he agreed. Catelyn pu
t the gun down on the table in front of her with care, then turned to the man who had come up to her shoulder. It was one of the people who’d been at the dinner last night. Good. She’d be distracted for another few minutes.
He tried again. “What I mean to say is—”
Lydia fixed him with a steady gaze. “How are things between you and Catelyn?”
He stifled his irritation. This didn’t have anything to do with the deal he and Lydia were making, but he could practically hear Catelyn warning him to go along with this. “They’re wonderful.” They were—that much was true. And Rami had the sickening sensation that things would be wonderful right up until the moment they ended.
“I’ve rarely seen a couple so in tune and confident with each other.” Lydia looked past him again. “How is she settling in to the royal lifestyle?”
He gave her the most charming grin he could summon. “It has its challenges, but you know Catelyn. She handles everything with grace.”
Lydia smiled back at him, and for the first time Rami felt like he had his feet on solid ground. “I can agree with that. That’s why I want our deal to depend on your partnership.”
“My…partnership?” What was she talking about? His connections with the royal family? Of course it would depend on that, but—
“Your partnership with Catelyn.” Lydia nodded to herself, as if she’d only now made up her mind. “The contract is yours on the condition that Catelyn signs it as well.”
Rami knew his mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut, then opened it again—but he was speechless.
His mind raced. For one thing, Catelyn had her wedding business. He couldn’t ask her to devote more of her time to administering the deal, which was set to be run from Al-Dashalid for ten years. For another, they’d be divorced before the first year was even complete. Would Lydia renege when that happened? On top of it all, Catelyn needed to be a citizen of Al-Dashalid before she could be party to the deal, according to the bylaws of the company.