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The expression in his eyes was gentle, regretful, and had an emotion that lit a tiny spark of hope in her heart. Something she cursed herself for wanting to believe was there.
He smoothed his thumb over her mouth and murmured, “Stay because I love you, cariño.”
Her heart tripped and she blinked in disbelief. A sob ripped from her throat and the tears rolled down her cheeks. They were the words she never thought she’d hear from him, was still almost afraid she’d imagined.
“You were right. I’m in love with you, and I suspect I have been for some time. Dios, but I was a fool and could not even admit it to myself. I am so sorry,” he muttered hoarsely and pulled her off the chair and into his arms. “I’m sorry for always being so quick to make assumptions about you—I treated you appallingly.”
“Enough, Andrés,” she choked out, pressing her hand against his cheek. He loved her. “Please, we can leave that behind us now.”
Turning his head, he pressed a kiss into her palm with a groan. “And I hate that it took me almost losing you to realize how much you mean to me. Chloe, you are my world. You’ve brought light into my heart, which used to hold only darkness.”
“I love you,” she said softly, her heart swollen with the emotion. She wound her arms around his neck. “You’re my husband and my soul mate. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I don’t deserve you. Te amo, Chloe,” he said thickly, cupping her face in a gentle grip. He covered her mouth with his own in a thorough and passionate kiss. “I love you.”
“Te amo,” she returned the endearment on a whisper, knowing without a doubt she meant it with every inch of her being.
One year later
Chloe stared at the pregnancy test and shook her head at the sense of déjà vu. Another positive. Her stomach did somersaults as she drew in an unsteady breath.
Tossing the pregnancy test into the garbage bin, she left the bedroom and walked quickly down the stairs of the villa. A moment later she strode outside, where Spain’s last days of summer beat down over the green valley surrounding Andrés’ villa. Shielding her eyes, she glanced around to locate her husband. Finally she spotted him in the gardens.
Her pulse tripped and her heart softened. He pointed to a flower and murmured something as he cradled their four-month-old baby, Rebecca, in his arms.
Andrés glanced up just then and saw her. He turned to walk toward her, his smile widening. “There’s your madre,” he crooned to Rebecca, pressing a kiss against their daughter’s forehead.
When he reached her side, Andrés leaned down to capture her mouth in a thorough kiss that left her knees weak. He lifted his head a moment later and murmured, “You look beautiful, cariño. Did you manage to sleep a bit longer this morning?”
“Yes, I did sleep in. Thank you for taking care of Rebecca.” She reached down to trace a finger over her baby’s smooth cheek and laughed as she cooed and smiled back up at her.
“I read Rebecca your story in Modern Coquette,” Andrés said with a slow smile. “I think our baby enjoyed hearing the story of how her grandparents fell in love.” He touched her cheek gently. “And how we fell in love. It was a beautiful article, cariño.”
“Thank you.” Her throat tightened with emotion. A quick phone call from Andrés had reinstated her job at the magazine, and for the past year, Chloe had been enjoying the ability to work as a part-time international columnist, writing from Spain.
“How are you feeling? You look exhausted,” Andrés murmured, his brows creasing with concern.
“I’m all right. Though I am exhausted, and I think I’ve discovered why.”
“Sí?” Andrés stilled, his expression turning anxious. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly and then took a nervous breath, “As long as you don’t mind the expansion of our family.”
He stared at her for a moment and then gave a wide grin. “Sí? You are pregnant again?”
“Yes.”
“Do I mind? No, Chloe, I am thrilled.” He kissed her again and then lifted Rebecca into the air, exclaiming, “You are going to be a big sister.”
Chloe gave a joyous laugh, relieved that Andrés was just as happy about another baby as she was. Andrés slid his other arm around her, pulling her against his side and kissing her again.
She’d never tire of the way he made her head spin and her heart race. It was love, and it was amazing.
Excerpt from Beauty and the Sheikh, now available
“Tell me more about your brother, Holly.” He drew his thumb across the knuckles of her hand, watching as her mouth parted and a shudder racked her body.
Her gaze slid to his scar, lingering there, and Rafiq’s nostrils flared. His touch and his appearance repulsed her that much, did it? And yet he couldn’t bring himself to release her hand, no matter how unnecessary holding it was.
There was a fleeting moment in the past where he’d been fooled into believing she enjoyed his touch and had seen beyond his flawed face. Until he’d discovered that not only was the American beauty a top model, but an accomplished actress.
Holly swallowed visibly and hesitated before answering. “Andrew was arrested last week. He was allegedly caught cheating at a cards table in your casino.”
“Allegedly?” he mocked, his lips curling. How pitifully naïve she was. Or perhaps she just thought him a fool. “Are you calling into question the level of security at my casino?”
“No, will you stop twisting my words?” She jerked her hand from his grasp and stumbled backward. “What I’m saying is my brother would never cheat!” But he saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes, and it was compounded by her next words. “Though if he owes any money, I have brought the funds to pay.”
Watching him, she must’ve realized her words were a mistake, because she lifted a hand to her mouth.
“You think I need your money, Holly?” He asked the question with a chilling softness he knew would intimidate.
“No, of course not, but the principle of it—”
“Your brother ignored principle when he chose to steal from my casino.”
She flinched and for a moment he saw the tears of desperation in her eyes. “Rafiq, please don’t be so quick to dismiss me. If you have any compassion, you’d consider my request.”
“If I have any compassion?” Rafiq ground out, unable to believe his ears. The words absolutely preposterous coming from her sensual lips after what she’d done to him. “You, Holly, are a fraud to even speak of compassion.”
Anger flashed in her eyes and she opened her mouth, appearing as if she were about to curse him to pieces, but then closed it again. Her hands balled into fists at her side, nearly disappearing into the long sleeves of her burka. Her head bowed. “I’m sorry. I haven’t come here to argue with you, Your Majesty. I’ve come to beg for help.”
Seeing Holly humbled before him sent a stab of satisfaction through him. Though she’d put space between them, he closed it again. His sense of power grew at the sound of the small, nervous breaths escaping her lips and the trembling of her body.
How was it possible he still wanted her? Wanted her mouth on his. Wanted her beneath him in bed, begging for pleasure and calling his name in abandon.
“Just what are you willing to do to garner his release?”
Her head jerked up, sapphire eyes widening with shock and wariness. “What do you mean?”
Rafiq’s gaze slid to her mouth, so full and currently unadorned with lipstick or gloss and yet so tempting and bewitching. She’d always been uncommonly beautiful, with or without her face painted. The day he’d met her she’d been without makeup, and he’d still been struck dumb by her beauty.
With lightning-quick movements, Rafiq slid his arm around her waist and drew her body flush against his. Her gasp of shock coincided with her hands flying up to press against his chest.
“I think you know exactly what I mean.”
Comprehension dawned in her gaze, followed by something that looked like disgust.
Pain ripped through him and he clenched his jaw. She made no effort to conceal how repulsive she found him, even when her supposed brother’s future was at stake.
“What would you do, Holly?” he rasped again, harsher this time as he lightly ran his palm up her back and then down low again, until it rested just above the swell of her buttocks.
A tremble ripped through her and she shook her head. “You misunderstand. I would never…”
“Ah, but you could, habiba.” He cupped her face with his free hand and held her head still.
He wanted to punish her for what she’d done two years ago. And for appearing in his life again when he tried so hard to never think of her—to never think of their passionate moments together.
