Sheikhs of Hamari: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  “Time to go,” he growled, and hauled them toward the door.

  It was all getting caught on camera, she realized. Phones were out of purses and pockets all around them, the gleaming rectangles recording every movement. Oh, this was not going to be good.

  One of the businessmen blocked Kishon’s path like a gnat, hopping up and down, fists clenched at his sides. “Who do you think you are to throw my friends out of this bar?” The man’s voice shook with belligerent rage.

  “I’m this woman’s fiancé,” Kishon shot back. “And all of you are done here tonight.”

  Her heartbeat sounded in her head, every pulse a drumbeat. Fiancé? Fiancé?

  She didn’t even see him push them out the door, she was so dumbfounded.

  “—you to go.” Her manger Peter’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  “What?”

  “It’s time for you to go, Chloe. You’re done here.” Peter’s face was flushed, jaw working. “Almost everybody in this place has footage of you punching a customer. You’re done.”

  “You’re kidding.” Kishon was back at her side. “Chloe’s done nothing wrong. Those men were harassing her.”

  “I didn’t see that,” hedged Peter. “What I did see was Chloe clocking a man in the middle of the bar.”

  Pain danced across her knuckles, surfacing for the first time from the wave of adrenaline. “One of them grabbed me,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

  “This isn’t how you treat someone in your employ.” Kishon’s tone was sharp. “It’s despicable. Chloe, get your things. You’re coming with me.”

  “I—what?” The commanding tone of his voice was doing things to her. Heat low in her belly and between her legs, and goose bumps down the back of her neck.

  “I won’t leave you here. Come with me.” Kishon offered her his hand, and she took it.

  “Your purse,” whispered Hailey from just off her elbow, and she handed Chloe her battered bag.

  And then Chloe walked away with the king of Hamari.

  “Kishon,” she said as he pushed open the doors to the bar. “I don’t think—”

  Cameras flashed. It felt like a hundred of them, but it was probably more like ten.

  “Not now,” Kishon said, holding up a hand. The paparazzi didn’t listen.

  “Kishon, who’s this?” one of them called out. “Is she really your fiancée?”

  A jittery, nervous energy moved through her. Paparazzi. They were taking her picture. This was going to be news. Maybe even international news. Her mouth went dry. Not only was it going to be news, but she was freshly out of a job. The energy turned into a tremble, and Chloe sucked in a sharp breath.

  Kishon slipped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Not now,” he called again. “We’ll go to my suite,” he told her in a softer voice. “We can talk there.”

  2

  The hotel entrance was only about a hundred feet from the bar, but walking in the front doors felt like walking into a different world. Chloe relaxed against Kishon’s side at the smooth kiss of the temperature-controlled air and the quiet. Oh, the quiet. The Highball wasn’t usually rowdy—this evening had been a wild exception—but it was always humming with voices. The soft rush of a fountain in the center of the lobby was like silk against her skin.

  “Wow.”

  “You know,” Kishon said, a smile in his voice, “you don’t have to whisper.”

  “It feels like I do.” She cleared her throat, tried again. “I’ve never been in here before, not even to look.”

  “You work next door.” His laugh warmed her like a shot of the finest whiskey.

  “I worked next door,” Chloe said, a spike of anxiety spearing her throat. “Those days are over.” Their footfalls were muffled by a rich wine-colored carpet, bordered by paths of marble. “Oh, man. I’m out of a job, and—wow, this is not good.”

  “You can relax.” He led her beneath a sparkling chandelier and past a sitting area so lush that Chloe wanted to sink into one of the white leather sofas, right there in the lobby. “We’ll figure it out.”

  It was so soothing, that we, even though Chloe couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it. Were they a we? What had he been thinking, calling himself her fiancé? Her thoughts tumbled around in her mind, all wrapped up in the loud, wrong laughter of the men at the table. At the bar, she’d acted on instinct. Now, a wash of sick fear moved over her. They could have hurt her. Kishon had truly been a white knight.

  At the bank of elevators, each door polished to a high shine, they didn’t have to wait. One of them slid open the moment Kishon pressed the call button, and he ushered her inside.

  Her body shook. He still hadn’t let her go, and Chloe didn’t want him too.

  “Thank you,” she said, a tension at the base of her spine unlocking as the elevator whisked them upward. “For saving me. That probably sounds cliché, but…you really saved me.”

  Lightning flashed through his eyes. “I’m only glad I came back. I got a few blocks away and realized—” She felt the shake of his head rather than saw it. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re all right.”

  The elevator stopped, and…it was the penthouse. She hadn’t been paying attention, but it was the penthouse.

  The two of them crossed a wide hallway to a set of double doors, and Kishon waved his phone in front of a scanner. She didn’t hear the doors unlock, but Kishon pushed them open and…

  “Wow.”

  Kishon moved easily into the massive space. It had to be twice the size of her apartment. Three times, even. The sunken living room alone could have fit the entire floor of the converted brownstone where she lived. The sheikh tossed his phone and wallet onto the sofa, then turned back to her, his blue eyes searching.

  “This is one of my favorite hotels in the world,” he said, his voice falling over her like a warm blanket. “Come enjoy it with me.” He held out his hand.

  Chloe took a deep breath. The rush of the adrenaline faded, her head clearing. She was in the fanciest hotel suite of her life with a king. With Kishon. Heat spread across her cheeks. He wasn’t a customer anymore.

  She stepped across the plush carpet and took his hand. Kishon looked down into her eyes and brushed a thumb over the line of her jaw. “Are you all right?” His voice rang with a sincerity she’d never heard from a man.

  “Yeah. Yes. I’m…I’m more than all right. But Kishon.” She hooked her hand around his wrist, pressing his palm to her cheek. It steadied her. She fought to school her expression before she asked, “Are we engaged?”

  A smile flashed across his face, and then his full lips settled into seriousness. “We should discuss that. I—”

  Chloe released her laugh. “Kidding. You said the best thing for the moment. I know we’re not really engaged.”

  He drew her to the sofa and settled her in, then went to get them both a glass of wine. The first taste was deliciously dry against her tongue. She could practically taste the fortune it must have cost. And the suite—the suite was a dream.

  So was the man who sat down next to her. Kishon curved his arm around her shoulders. The suite had a wide bank of windows overlooking Washington, DC, and they looked out at the Washington Monument together in a comfortable silence.

  Chloe had never been so aware of another person’s breathing. Yes, she was comfortable…and also getting hotter by the second, heat rising everywhere they touched.

  “This place really is special,” she murmured. “Do you have other favorite hotels? They’re probably all over the planet, knowing you.”

  “Oh, yes.” Kishon sipped his wine. “I have another favorite in Dubai, one in Hong Kong, and one in Paris.” His voice was as rich as the wine.

  “I’d love to see those places,” she said wistfully. “I’ve never left the United States.”

  “Never?”

  “Not once.” The wine was half gone already and making her feel delightfully relaxed. “If I had the chance, I’d paint them all.�
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  “As in, the buildings?” A laugh edged Kishon’s voice. “I think they have people who handle that.”

  She nudged him with her elbow, a shock of pleasure moving through her at the ability to touch him. She could touch him now. “En plein air,” she said. “The landscapes and cityscapes.”

  “That’s right. You mentioned that once. And you said…” He seemed to search his memory, and she leaned in closer. “You said that it was key to feel connected with the scenes, by being there in person.”

  She sighed. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to save up for a trip, but that’s off the table now.”

  He shifted against her. “I wouldn’t say that,” he said lightly. “I could provide you with some travel. I know how much you want to work on your art. I’d be more than happy to do it.”

  She drained the rest of her wine, a low laugh warming her throat. “You could, but at what cost?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I couldn’t pay you back. Remember? I’m newly unemployed.”

  “I see it as newly free.” Kishon finished his own wine and set the glass down on a low coffee table next to the sofa. His deep blue eyes danced in the light of the suite, which Chloe realized now was very much mood lighting. “Or is something else tying you down?”

  “No,” she said, a strange tightness coming to her throat. “Nothing is tying me down. That…makes me sadder than it should.” She swallowed hard.

  Kishon ran his hand up and down her arm, his touch featherlight. “I have my own dilemma.” He sounded thoughtful, kingly…as he should. “I told you that my brother is waiting for me to marry so that he can wed his fiancée.”

  “Yes, I remember. But why? I don’t think we got to that part.”

  She felt his body tense against hers. “There’s an ancient law decreeing that the king must marry first. No other member of the royal family can marry until he is married.”

  “Yikes.” The pressure was on, then. “I didn’t realize it was law.”

  Kishon let out a sigh. “Yes. I’ll have to marry for one reason or another, but…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been avoiding it until now.”

  “Why? Do you love your freedom too much?” she teased.

  He laughed. “I don’t believe I’ll ever find a woman who doesn’t want me for my wealth or my power. Why not use it to make your dreams come true, rather than lining a gold digger’s pockets?”

  Everything she knew about Kishon came into sharp focus then. He’d enjoyed the corner seat at the bar, where he could be as unobtrusive as possible. And she’d treated him like any other patron. He’d craved that.

  And now here they were, in a penthouse suite that probably cost a month’s rent per night. The penthouse suite of a hotel she had never dared set foot in—it was that expensive.

  Chloe blinked. It was possible—probable, even—that she’d way underestimated just how rich and royal Kishon was. Yet the feeling that throbbed beneath her breastbone didn’t seem related.

  She shifted on the sofa so that she could see his face. The cut line of his jaw called to her, and now that there was no bar between them, she didn’t resist.

  “From the bottom of my heart…” She drew a fingertip along that line, his five-o’clock shadow tickling her fingers, waking up all her nerves. Her heart beat faster. She’d wanted to do this for so long. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  Kishon’s eyes met hers with an intensity that made the back of her neck feel flushed and hot. “I hope I do, too.” His voice had taken on a different character—lower, beckoning—and she was only half-surprised when he leaned in for a kiss.

  The touch of his lips was like scratching an itch that she’d had between her shoulder blades all her life. The relief was instant and powerful as Kishon explored her, his lips strong and soft. That same relief tightened, heating up her belly, and when he slipped his tongue against hers, she let out a moan she’d been holding in for far too long.

  “What a gorgeous sound,” he murmured against her mouth. “Make it again.”

  “Make me,” she whispered, nipples peaking with the brashness of it. She’d never once thought in all her life that she’d be giving orders to a king.

  “It would be my pleasure.” A wicked edge came to Kishon’s voice. He kissed her harder, hotter, his tongue more demanding, and desire wrapped itself around Chloe like winding vines. She was breathless when he stopped to press kisses in a line down her body, first her chin and then the bared flesh of her neck. Kishon’s hands worked magic on his clothes, then hers, and then she was naked in front of a king. Naked and panting. On a luxe leather sofa, in front of a massive window.

  Kishon looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His eyes raked along her skin, leaving trails of heat over every inch. He followed his gaze with the pads of his thumbs, coaxing her nipples into peaks and working lower. “You’re exquisite.” The husky growl of his voice, paired with the sight of his truly astounding abs, was the last straw.

  “If I’m so exquisite,” she groaned, “why are you making me wait?”

  “Patience makes the heart grow fonder.” He dipped his head down and pressed a kiss between her breasts. She arched her back—when had she stretched out underneath him like this?—and spread her legs, offering. Inviting.

  “Kishon, that’s not a saying.” She was breathless, floating in a dream. This had to be a dream. This room. This man. “And I need…” The sentence trailed off into a moan.

  “I need more of you. You…you have enchanted me for weeks.” His words were raw, and she heard the truth there, bright and shining. “And you’ve been such a terrible tease.”

  Chloe put a hand to her lips. “Oops. What are you going to do about it?”

  He kissed her again, so possessive it took her breath away. “Don’t tempt me.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Or I’ll have to make you mine.”

  “And how will you—”

  He caught both her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head. “I’ll start like this.” So matter of fact. “And then…” He palmed her pussy with his other hand, testing her hot core with his fingers.

  “Oh,” said Chloe. Kishon pushed one finger inside, then another, and then he did something that felt so good she tried to curl away from it. “Oh, that’s—oh.”

  “So wet and ready,” he commented, and the casual tone in his voice snared her. Was it the wine making her feel this intensely alive, or was it the sheer power of him? She flashed back to him dragging two men at once out of the bar. Oh, it was hot. “But how ready? Shall I get a condom?”

  “Don’t you dare leave,” Chloe said through gritted teeth. “I’m on the pill.”

  “Good.”

  Kishon lined himself up with her entrance, the fact of him there huge and insistent. She opened her legs wider and wriggled in his grasp, trying to work herself onto his crown. It didn’t work. She was trapped. Chloe threw her head back in frustration, and when she opened her eyes, he was watching her with such fire in his own gaze that she started to melt.

  “Mine,” he said simply, and then he pumped into her with a tortuous, lovely slowness. Kishon was in control of every inch, never letting go of her wrists, and she felt her body stretch for him.

  When his hips settled firmly between her legs, she forced her eyes open. This was a once-in-a-lifetime sight—she could sense it. Kishon stared down at her, eyes lidded and lips slightly parted, his need written all over his face.

  Chloe lifted her head to kiss him, and all at once he was unleashed. He let her hands go, and she threw her arms around his neck, moving with him. Their bodies fit together so well it should have been impossible. He grazed her clit with every stroke, working his hips so that he made more and more contact, driving her up and up and up until finally there was nothing left but an explosion of pleasure and desire. Who was making that sound? It was her. She couldn’t stop. She could only hold on for dear life as
Kishon lost himself to his own release. Oh, it felt so filthy, the way he emptied himself into her…and so right.

  When they were finished, Kishon took her in his arms and rolled them off the leather sofa and onto the rug beneath. Chloe took the fall with a burst of giggles.

  “The floor? Really? You have this entire suite, and…” The rug was nice. It was luxurious, actually. “Oh. Okay. I see now.”

  Kishon pulled her close and kissed her temple. “That was incredible.”

  She stared up at the ceiling. “It was even better than I imagined.”

  He pushed himself up on one elbow. “You imagined us having sex?”

  Chloe bit her lip. “Yes, only…”

  “What?” The grin that played across his face lit her up inside.

  “Only we did it more than once.”

  3

  A gentle rustling, like leaves in the wind, seeped into Kishon’s dream. In the dream he was in the gardens at the palace, lying on his back and looking up through the branches of a flowering tree. He’d never felt so relaxed in his life. His body ached so pleasantly, as if he’d used it well, and he stretched out his legs. Smaller sounds crept in—fabric on fabric, feet padding across the room…

  “Kishon.”

  He opened his eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. Chloe. The stunning bartender who’d refused to date him and in doing so had become his friend.

  And now, something else entirely.

  Calling what they’d had a one-night stand seemed…wrong.

  She looked at him with her big, green eyes, a satisfied smile on her heart-shaped lips, a grin curving the corner of her mouth.

  “Are you awake?”

  “I’m looking at you,” he said, voice gravelly from sleep.

  She bent to kiss his cheek. “I have to go.”

  He stretched again. “No. Stay.” His body was ready for her.

  Chloe bit her lip. “I’ve got to catch the light. Go back to sleep.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him, a fleeting brush against his lips. No. He wouldn’t fall back asleep. He’d follow her to the door, and…