until it nearly hurt. He pushed in deeper, then paused.
“There,” he said. “The proof.”
His expression tightened. He flexed his hips once and pushed. A sharp pain ripped through her, making her gasp, but he didn’t stop. He thrust deeply into her, all the while staring into her eyes. Passion combined with possession. Later she would swear that she remembered the faint whisper of a desert wind as he took her into his embrace and called out to the heavens, “You are mine.”
Chapter Five
Khalil lay in the darkness. He was tired, but he couldn’t sleep. Not after what had happened.
He turned his head to the left and stared at the woman curled up next to him. He could barely make out the shape of her body, but the scent of her filled his senses and made him want to pull her close so that they could make love again.
Instead he pushed himself into a sitting position and turned until his feet rested on the floor. For the first time in his life, he’d made love with a virgin. He’d heard Gerald’s accusations and had assumed the man was telling the truth, but a part of him had wondered. Dora’s hesitantly eager responses had also hinted at the truth, but until he’d felt his arousal pierce the veil of her innocence, he hadn’t been sure.
The act of deflowering a virgin had been surprisingly satisfying. He enjoyed knowing that no man had spilled his seed inside of her—that she was, in the most primitive way possible, his.
Khalil smiled, but the gesture was more cynical than humorous. He prided himself on being a modern man, forward thinking in his quest to lead his country into the new millennium. Yet here he sat, pleased that he’d finally bedded a virgin. So much for his thin veneer of civility. He was not as far removed from his savage ancestors as he would like to think.
Which didn’t answer his question about the woman. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her sleeping. Could he do this? Was it wrong?
He dismissed the queries as soon as they appeared. He was Khalil Khan, prince of El Bahar. He could do anything he liked. In matters of state, the fate of the country came first. He would not marry Amber and subject himself and his nation to her petty nature. Yet he had to marry and produce sons to carry on for him when he was dead. He was a member of the royal family—he had obligations.
Besides, without him, who was Dora Nelson? A secretary? A nobody who had been badly used by her former employer? With him, she could be so much more. She would, in fact, be honored by his proposal. This was best for all concerned.
That decided, he stretched out on the bed. When the first light of morning crept into the room, he would begin making phone calls. By the time Dora awoke, all would be arranged. He closed his eyes to sleep, but instead of relaxing, he found himself reliving the pleasure he’d found in her arms.
She’d been unskilled, but eager. Her pleasure when he’d touched her most feminine place with his tongue had surprised them both. She’d writhed beneath him like a wildcat. The memory made him smile, then grow hard. He remembered how tight she’d been. How she’d stiffened from the pain when he’d first pushed through her barrier. But she’d relaxed, allowing him to go more deeply. He’d plunged in and out of her, feeling her give herself up to him. How fiercely she’d wrapped her arms around him as she’d urged him to completion. She’d wanted him to take her, to change her, to make her a woman. When he’d climaxed, she’d clung to him, as if she never wanted him to go.
He’d had every intention of returning to his own room, yet somehow he had not. He’d spent the night here, at her side, listening to her soft breathing and waiting for dawn. Even now, when there were only a few hours left until the new day began, he stayed in her bed. Aroused and wanting, he pulled her close and breathed in the scent of her hair. She stirred against him but did not wake. He would sleep another time. For tonight, this was enough.
Dora stirred slightly under the covers, which seemed especially heavy this morning. She turned over and bumped into something…warm.
Her eyes flew open. Khalil lay next to her, his brown eyes alert, his mouth smiling. “Good morning,” he said.
She swallowed hard as memories from the night before crashed into her. Her conversation with Gerald, Khalil’s declaration that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, the way they’d made love. The last thought brought sensual images to mind, of him touching her, kissing her, taking her. She felt a flush of embarrassment crawl up her face, and she had to fight the need to duck under the covers and never come up.
“Ah, so you do remember what happened last night,” Khalil said, his voice as low and gentle as his caresses had been. “I’d hoped you might.” He placed his hand on her bare shoulder, then stroked her arm. “I think we did very well together.” He slipped one leg between her thighs. “So well I had trouble sleeping. All I could think about was wanting to make love with you again.”
She blinked at him but didn’t have a clue as to what to say. What was the correct social response on the morning after? Especially when the night before had not only been unexpected, but had also been her very first time?
“Thank you,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or to scream. Here she was, naked, in bed with a handsome prince, who by the way had his bare leg between her bare thighs, and he was thanking her for their close encounter. Had the world gone completely crazy? Or was he looking for a way to let her down gently? Was that what this was about? Did he want to find an easy way to let her know that she would be a fool to have any expectations?
“I had a nice time, too,” she said at last when it became obvious he was waiting for some kind of response. She wished she could put a little space between them, but she didn’t know how to do that without being thought of as rude. She would also like to get up, but she was naked and the only bathrobe nearby was clear across the room in the bathroom. She did not relish the thought of walking around naked in front of Khalil. While his bare body had been sheer perfection, she saw no need to flash her flaws in the light of day.
“I was hoping you would think our lovemaking was more than just nice,” he chided. “How about spectacular? Extraordinary? Even magical?”
He was teasing. She could tell by the tone of his voice. His playfulness gave her a little courage. While she had no illusions about his expectations for any kind of relationship with her, perhaps this wasn’t going to end badly.
“I think I’ll stick with nice,” she said primly, then braced herself for his retaliation.
He didn’t disappoint her. He waited less than two seconds, then lunged toward her, tickling her stomach and her side. She screamed and tried to wiggle away, but he was much stronger. Using only one hand, he pinned her arms above her head, which gave him free access to her naked torso. But instead of continuing to tickle her, he bent down and licked her nipple. She shivered.
He released her and sat up. “We are well-matched,” he said, repeating what he’d told her the previous night. “I was not wrong to choose you.”
His words didn’t make any sense. “What are you talking about?”
He frowned as if he expected her to intuitively understand. “Isn’t that obvious? We are to be married this afternoon. The ceremony will be at five. I’ve already spoken to the manager of the boutique where you got your other clothes. One of their salespeople will be bringing by a selection of dresses at two.”
As he spoke, he rose to his feet and reached for a bathrobe she hadn’t noticed draped across a chair. Her ears heard what he told her, her brain absorbed the information, but it had no meaning. He might as well have been discussing the lack of oxygen on Jupiter, or the number of single-celled animals who lived at the bottom of the ocean.
“Married?” she asked, sure she’d misunderstood.
“Yes. That is what I said.”
She pressed her lips together and stared