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He was still hard inside her.
She smiled up at him. “Show me.”
He did.
*
Sayed woke to the pleasure of a warm, silken body against him. He opened his eyes cautiously, the early-morning sun revealing not his suite but another luxurious room.
Tahira’s suite.
Tahira. Memories came crashing back. She’d eloped with a palace aid. And he’d come here to drown his sorrows in ouzo, only to end up experiencing the most intense and pleasurable night of his life.
Thankful he did not get hangovers, he tipped his head to see the top of Aaliyah’s dark head peaking above the sheet. She was curled on her side, the Egyptian cotton sheet pulled up to cover her face, even as her body snuggled trustingly into his.
Which shocked him.
She might be used to sleeping with someone else, but he was not.
Sayed never took lovers to his own bed and had never spent the night in theirs.
Yet he’d slept more soundly last night than he had in months, even with the knowledge of Tahira’s betrayal and its ramifications looming over him.
It must have been the ouzo.
He started to tug his hand back from where it rested against Aaliyah’s stomach and she made a soft sound in her sleep, showing no signs of waking. For some reason he was loath to relinquish contact with her soft skin and he allowed his hand to settle again.
Just for a moment.
He could not make himself regret giving in to his desire for the beautiful Aaliyah Amari.
Nor could he allow himself to service the craving she elicited in him again.
Even if he could remain for the additional week in London he had planned, it would be a bad idea.
Regardless, he had to return to Zeena Sahra immediately.
The lack of a wedding between him and Tahira would have far-reaching political ramifications. Not least of which was the fact no emir had progressed to melech of Zeena Sahra while still a bachelor in the entire history of his country.
He and his father would have to find another suitable matrimonial prospect for Sayed, and very quickly, if they wished to minimize their international embarrassment.
His father.
Damn it.
Sayed should have called the older man the night before. He would have to do so very soon.
Should he wake Aaliyah before he left? It might be more comfortable for both of them to avoid the morning after.
However, it was inevitable, he realized.
Sayed wasn’t about to do the walk of shame down the corridors of the hotel back to his suite in yesterday’s no doubt hopelessly wrinkled suit.
With reluctance he could not deny but nevertheless had to ignore, Sayed removed the arm he had curled loosely around Aaliyah. She mumbled and stretched one leg so it brushed his provocatively but, once again, did not wake.
With more effort than it should have taken to make himself do it, Sayed moved so he was sitting on the side of the bed and reached for the phone.
Calling Yusuf, he instructed his personal bodyguard to bring him fresh clothing.
