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Although Rayyan was secure in the knowledge that none of his loyal staff would even think of publicly voicing whatever opinions they had about the nature of his relationship with Hyacinth, he also knew that it would be careless of him to let things continue as they were.
One of these days, the inevitable would come, and...
The faint sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and the sheikh winced, having no trouble identifying the culprit behind all the commotion.
Silent as a mouse, dammit.
That was what he had always advised Hyacinth to do when walking through the palace’s secret tunnels, but here she was, making as much noise as a marching band.
Minutes later, the secret panel in his wall slid open silently, and Hyacinth stood by the doorway, a gamine smile flirting with her lips. “Surprise!”
“La, anisdi.” No, milady. “Galloping horses are a thousand times better at being stealthy,” he said dryly, “so no, it’s no surprise that you’re here.”
She stuck her tongue out. “Spoilsport.” And then she ran towards him at full speed.
But the sheikh was more than ready for her, as always, and before she could even stand on her toes to steal a kiss from his lips, he already had her in his trap, his arms closing around her in a caged embrace.
“Spoilsport,” she mumbled even as her toes curled hard at having her body pressed against the sheikh’s powerful form. And when she felt his broad shoulders shake in silent mirth, her toes could only curl harder even as she mentally despaired the hopelessness of her situation.
You have it so, so, so ridiculously bad, H.
“I guess I am,” the sheikh said softly. “But...”
“I knew there’d be a but,” she muttered.
“You love me anyway.”
Shit.
“Don’t you?”
“I fucking hate you,” Hyacinth snarled, “and that’s—-” Her voice died, her body tensing when she felt the sheikh’s lips move to her ear. And then she felt him breathe, and it was all she could do not to swoon.
God help me.
I’d rather fucking die than swoon.
“Thank you for doing what you did, majamira.”
“Hmph.”
The sheikh grinned down at her. “Are you pouting?”
Oh shit.
Realizing she was indeed pouting like a silly high school girl (which she was, but he didn’t need to be reminded of that), she hastily rearranged her features into a scowl, saying snidely, “You’re mistaken. You need to have your eyes checked. And anyway—-” Hyacinth rushed to change the subject. “Don’t think I didn’t know you were late.”
“Maehdina.” I’m sorry. “I didn’t want to be, but it couldn’t be helped.”
“Yeah right.”
“How do I make it up to you?”
“Say you’re in love with me,” she said without hesitation.
“I’m in love with you,” he conceded just as promptly.
She stepped on his foot – hard – and the sheikh winced.
“Say it like you mean it.”
“I’m working on it.”
Hyacinth didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The truth was in his eyes. He might not be in love with her, but he was working on it, and God. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to feel about that.
Insulted that he had to work on falling for her – or hopeful that he wanted to fall in love with her?
“You drive me crazy,” she muttered. “You really do.”
“Maehdina.”
“And stop that. We both know you’re only saying you’re sorry because you know what it does to me.”
The sheikh studied her with feigned puzzlement. “What does it do to you?”
“Ha!”
“Do the words make your heart race, is that it?”
A strangled gasp escaped her.
“Or maybe...” The sheikh’s voice turned husky. “The words make you want to take a whip out, put on a pair of leather thongs—-”
“Rayyan!” She squirmed in discomfort, red-faced at the images the sheikh’s unexpected words brought to mind. “How could you—-” Hyacinth stopped speaking, noticing too late the strange look on the sheikh’s handsome face. “What is it?”
But he only stared at her, and she started feeling uneasy.
“What’s wrong? Sheikh—-”
He shook his head. “No.”
And now she was completely bewildered. “No?”
“You didn’t call me sheikh earlier.”
Oh.
He was right.
Rayyan saw the uncertainty in her gaze, and his chest clenched. “Don’t.”
Hyacinth sucked in her breath at the harsh tone of his voice. It hurt. But even so, she made herself ask. “Don’t...what?” If he wanted to play the jerk, she wasn’t going to let him do it half-assed. She would –
“Don’t look at me the way you’re looking at me now.”
What?
“You’re looking at me,” Rayyan said quietly, “like you believe you need my permission to say my name.”
OH.
“Because you don’t.”
Her head dropped to his chest.
“If anything—-”
“Shut up.”
“I’d be honored—-”
“I said shut up.” And that was when he felt it.
“To have you say my name.” Her tears on his heart.
“So say it.”
Her body shook against him.
“Say it, Hyacinth.”
So many tears.
“Do you want me to beg—-”
“Shut up, Rayyan.”
His eyes closed. “Good girl.” He heard her choke back a teary laugh, and he tightened his hold on her.
