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The Sheikh's Reluctant Queen


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bed in the interim.”

      “Bed? What bed?” She chuckled at the lion’s rumble that reverberated in his gut and melted back against him, indulgence turning her to goo. “Down boy. I wouldn’t dream of staying out of your… mattress. In fact, after last night, you just try to keep me off it. And if it was as incredible for you as it was for me…”

      Those scrumptiously serious eyes became solemn. “I might not have been an innocent, but what I experienced with you was a first. I meant it when I said last night was life-changing.”

      Delight gripped her heart so fiercely she feared it might pierce it. “Then it would be downright self-destructive if we didn’t indulge in this activity as frequently as humanly possible. But there are many more areas where we need to see if we’re that compatible.”

      “Last night proved we are, in all areas that matter. You were right when you said we are not strangers. That has to be why we connected so smoothly and deeply.”

      She laughed. “Sure. Connecting my tentacles deeply into you sure went smoothly. You’ve set a new record for Male Struggles Against Female Advances.”

      “My struggles were a misguided attempt at chivalry, as you so correctly diagnosed.” His eyes lost that gravity, grew heated, hungered. “No more struggling, ever again.”

      “That’s better news than anything I ever dared hope for. So can’t you let me, let us, savor this?” She smoothed out his gathering frown. “What’s the rush?”

      She caught a relenting glimmer in his eyes, something she was starting to realize meant he was softening inside. “The rush is that your power, which your mother and aunt clearly knew nothing about, is so overwhelming, you shredded my ironclad control. I took you without protection. You might already be pregnant.”

      The wish for that to be true was so intense, she couldn’t breathe.

      When she could draw air again she said, “That’s still not a reason to rush into marriage.” Even if it was the struggle of her life not to jump on his offer. “I have to admit you were right. We don’t know a lot about each other.”

      “We know enough. All the important things.”

      Feeling herself on the verge of giving in, she tried again. “Why not take the time to know all the unimportant things, too? I hear those are usually what make people turn each others’ lives into hell and end up breaking them apart.” She ran a teasing finger down the cleft in his chin. “Maybe in a month’s time I’ll find you an incredible bore and you’ll find me an unbearable pain in the neck, and we’ll both be glad we didn’t rush into anything.”

      His arm tugged her closer, pulling her into his rock-hard body. “Wanting like this would counteract any boredom you might feel. And it would relieve any neck pain I might suffer.” Before she could argue more, he had her spread and open beneath him. “But though I believe we don’t need it, you can have your month. As long as I have you all through it. And it’s not one day longer.”

      Then he took her lips, took her. She welcomed him back into her body, her heart soaring.

      She only hoped that by month’s end, his insistence on legitimizing their passion would no longer be driven by any hint of honor, commitment and duty. She wanted the passion itself to be the only reason.

      Though what she really yearned for was that he would come to love her. As much as she loved him.

      One miracle at a time, she reminded herself, as she drowned in his passion and pleasure again.

      “Can we have a bed?”

      Laylah stretched her arms up in the air, savoring the soreness in her every muscle as she walked back to Rashid. He was awaiting her return on that mattress where he’d been taking her to heavens she hadn’t known existed for the past week.

      “Not that I don’t love that mattress. Literally the best time of my life has been spent on it. I just want some… variation.”

      He caught her hand, brought her down on his lap, ensconcing her within his great body. “We can have anything at all that you want. If I don’t anticipate your wishes, just ask.”

      Which would be impossible to do. Since their first night together, he’d not only been anticipating her wishes but doing things for her she hadn’t even known to wish for. Like taking her on a surprise flight on his private jet to visit Mira in Tennessee. And surprising her with an ingenious analysis report that would see her business jumping to a whole new level.

      He seemed to be thinking of her every minute of the day, and what he could do for her. In his own unique way, he was doing something she’d never dreamed he’d do. He was courting her.

      As if she needed to love him more. But she did as he wooed and watched over her, as he pleasured and possessed her. With every word and touch and action, he kept dragging her deeper in love with him. Every moment she shared with him, every breath and glance, was every dream she hadn’t dared believe would come true.

      And he hadn’t kept her just to his personal time and domain. He’d shown her his business side, letting her see how a master negotiated deals and waged war, teaching her tricks she couldn’t wait to implement in her own business, tutoring her in the methods of maximum efficiency with minimum effort and time. He let her in on his every secret method, thought process and strategy. He was intense about everything, brilliant in every way.

      But what surprised her most was how sensitive and caring he was, in his own subtle, practical, effective way. Not only with her, in and out of bed, but with his people. His right-hand man, Ahmad, had told her yesterday that Rashid’s army of deputies and underlings worshipped the dirt under his feet, would walk into an inferno for him. She believed it.

      It was a validation of how right she’d been about him all her life. He was everything she’d ever admired and respected. He was her hero in every way.

      She couldn’t imagine how anyone could contemplate anyone else for the throne of Azmahar. In her opinion, no king in history had ever been more qualified.

      “I just want a bed,” she said, coming up for breath from his last kiss.

      Passion blazed in his black eyes, but his voice betrayed some lightness. “I just gave you carte blanche. Do it justice, ya ameerati, use it well.”

      “I did tell you I’m no good at asking for or accepting stuff. I’m no good at wanting stuff. I really want nothing else. So… I’ll just keep this carte blanche to use well in… other areas.”

      “In those areas, you already have carte rainbow. But in this area, I’m ahead of you. I’ve already ordered everything that will turn this place into the sensual wonderland where I can do your voluptuous magnificence justice, with all the props that will give me every… variation to pleasure and service you into oblivion.”

      If he was already redecorating his place for her, this had to be serious, and long-term. Oh, sure, he’d already asked her to marry him. But that had been driven by honor as much as passion.

      This was all passion.

      Overwhelmed with joy, she whispered, “I want one more thing.”

      “Name it.”

      She ran hands trembling with longing to and fro over his head, the dense, cropped silk covering it feeling like velvet beneath her aching palms. “Grow your hair back.”

      His caresses stilled, his expression shuttering closed.

      Had she tripped one of his proximity sensors? Did he find it easy to give her material things, let her come as close as could be sexually, but when it came to emotional intimacy, he balked?

      Just as she was kicking herself for presuming too much, too soon, he pulled her closer, flattening her breasts against his chest, his eyes searing into her soul.

      Then he said, “Done.”

      Forgetting