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No.She bit her bottom lip. Whatever punishment Sheikh Jamal devised it’d still be a thousand times better than living with an ancient despot. She’d throw herself at Jamal’s mercy any day over being abused and mistreated by an old goat famous for his shameless depravity and ugliness inside and out.
She might never have met Jamal but she’d done enough research on him and uncovered many photos. He was stupidly handsome. Little wonder women fell at his feet. His half-brother, who lived in another palace, was gorgeous too. She was only surprised both of them weren’t already married.
She took off her jeweled sandals. Though it’d be nice to find love, she could live without it. She didn’t have a choice. She’d managed fine for twenty years in the lack of affection from men, what was another half-century or so?
Lifting her hands she pulled free her keffiyeh and shook out her blonde hair—a color inherited from her English mother—then slipped off her abaya to reveal her gauzy harem outfit beneath. It’d been easy enough to steal. The hard part would be losing her virginity to a stranger.
She sighed. She’d be twenty-one in a few months and she’d yet to know the touch of a lover. It left her a little queasy and lightheaded knowing it was her first time and she had no real idea what to expect, other than being aware it would hurt.
Don’t even think about it. You’re doing what needs to be done for a better future.
She lay on the bed and positioned herself in the same way Shakira had been. She grimaced. How the hell was this comfortable? She gave up and lay on her side. The moment Jamal arrived she’d move back into the same seductive pose Shakira had done so well.
Settling onto the bed, she lay quietly. The silence ticked by and she sighed luxuriously at the soft pillow and mattress. A cloud couldn’t be more comfortable. She closed her eyes momentarily. Jamal might be hours yet.
She promptly fell asleep.
*
Sheikh Jamal Qadir followed the male servant who escorted him to his bedroom suite. Though the palace was pure luxury, he couldn’t help but note how the expensive furnishings were fading and a little tattered in some rooms, the beautiful pieces dusty and unpolished.
It was clear that Sheikh Zameer’s once impressive wealth was fading, too. But then tourism had been brought to a standstill for the whole world of late, not just for those countries in the Middle East. Little wonder the sheikh was so eager to begin trading with Jamal.
After a few right and then left turns along wide corridors, the servant swung open a door and stepped aside. Jamal nodded thanks and walked into the suite, the servant then shutting the door with asnick.Jamal ignored his surroundings and headed straight toward the bathroom.
Thank heavens this was a short stay, no more than an overnight visit. He was already over the scraping and bowing of Zameer’s servants. He pulled off his robe as he glanced at the plunge pool. It looked inviting, but then so did the double-headed shower. At least his rooms were adequate, with little expense spared.
His host, Sheikh Zameer, clearly kept some suites up-to-date to impress his visitors.
Jamal stepped into the shower and lifted his face into the hot water. His advisors had already informed him that Zameer’s finances had been stagnating for quite some time. Though Amack was still considered a wealthy nation thanks to its pristine mountain ranges surrounded by endless desert and sandy dunes, which made it the bucket list of many tourists, the travel industry was fading fast.
Tourism had all but shuddered to a stop. Add Sheikh Zameer’s old fashioned ideals that hadn’t progressed his country forward and its people would soon be in real financial trouble.
Jamal lathered his hair and skin, then rinsed off the suds before he turned off the water and stepped out to dry off.Although his own country produced good quality dates, buying a whole lot more from the date-laden Amack while helping to keep the country afloat until tourism resumed—and even beyond that—would not only keep their nations at peace, he’d be able to export date liquor all over the world thanks to his handful of distilleries.
In exchange he’d live with selling oil to his neighbor for a lower price. Jamal would still make a profit. It was a win-win. Not that he needed the boost to his own economy. He had his thumb in enough pies to continue flooding Ishmat with wealth. But only a fool would reject more influx of cash, and it wouldn’t hurt to add to his already prolific portfolio.
At thirty-two years of age he was already one of the richest men on the planet, right along with his half-brother and closest friends. They really did all have the Midas touch.
The only trouble with wealth and power were those who coveted it from him. It was only lucky he had a powerful alliance with his friends and half-brother, which safeguarded one another and deterred potential conflict.
Placing the towel back onto its heated rack, he walked naked out of the bathroom. Tiredness was pulling at him every which way. It had been a long day. Sleep was in order.
He froze on the top step that led to the sunken bedroom and its inviting bed.
Weariness slipped off him as heat rushed through his blood and he stared at the blonde angel waiting for him. That she was sound asleep mattered little to him. It highlighted an innocent quality that shouldn’t be apparent being that she must be one of Zameer’s harem girls.
It was now patently clear Zameer wasn’t totally old fashioned if he was willing to share one of his harem girls.
Jamal’s dick jerked and thickened, and he swallowed past his suddenly dry throat. She was exquisite. The blonde bombshell must surely be Zameer’s favorite lover.
He stalked down the steps, a growl forming in his throat. He didn’t make a habit of mixing business with pleasure. But he wasn’t a fool either, he’d had a productive day, and tonight he’d enjoy his reward.
Chapter Two
Yasmine moaned at the kisses pressed to her throat, her blood warming, thrumming, her nerve endings rejoicing at the seductive touch that awakened needs she hadn’t even known she had.
Best. Dream. Ever.
