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After checking her watch to make sure it was already past midnight, she said brightly, “Happy birthday!” She pointed to the cake behind him, already misshapen and halfway to becoming a sweet, soggy mess. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t realize it would melt so quickly—-aaaah!”
Hyacinth was frozen, unable to believe she was suddenly sitting on the sheikh’s lap.
He had never let her get this close before.
Never.
Rayyan cupped her chin to make her look at him. “I saw the blog.”
She grimaced. “Mrs. B told you, didn’t she?”
“It’s one of the best birthday gifts I’ve ever had.”
“One of the best?” Hyacinth couldn’t help bristling. “You mean there’s something better than my already viral blog, which at last count was already shared 10,000 times?”
“Nem.” His voice was solemn.
“Fine. I’ll bite. What’s better—-”
“You.” The sheikh’s blue eyes gleamed at the way color stole over her cheeks. “You, in my life – nothing compares to it.”
Oh. Shit. Someone pinch her. Quick.
Not wanting him to know just how much those words made her want to swoon, she made herself pout, saying, “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then why have you never been tempted to unwrap your gift?”
The sheikh choked.
“Well?”
“Because you’re like wine,” he finally said. “It’s best to let you age...”
She made a face. “Who knew you’d be such a prude?”
“I’m doing this for you, trust me.”
“And I’m saying it’s not necessary.” She then mimicked his tone, saying firmly, “Trust me.”
But the sheikh only smiled, and as much as she hated to admit it, she knew he was right.
Now was not the right time yet.
The sheikh insisted on eating her cake despite her protests, and worse, he also had her feeding him every bite while she remained self-consciously curled on his lap, and the “thing” was underneath her ass.
He asked her if what Aisha had told him was true, and Hyacinth had a hard time keeping herself from turning red as she shrugged and admitted it was so. “I’m sleeping here, with you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She glared at the sheikh. “Got that?”
In answer, the sheikh once again surprised her by scooping her into his arms, and she let out a gasp as he unceremoniously threw her on his massive bed. He chuckled at the way her dainty figure bounced on the bed, and as he dipped down on one knee, a buzzing in her head began, and her heart, its desire overwhelming the pleas of her mind, began to hammer.
She waited just until the sheikh was close enough, and then her arms were loping around his neck. A surprised laugh escaped him as she forced him to roll on his back, and she ended up straddling him.
“Are you thinking of having your way with me, majamira?” the sheikh teased.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
And before either of them could think things through, Hyacinth had already bent her head down to press her lips on his.
Rayyan stiffened, his big, hard body tensing under her soft, trembling form as he felt her lips press harder to his.
Both of them knew he could push her away at any moment, and it was exactly what he was thinking of doing. But as his hands settled on her tiny waist, he felt it.
Her pain wetting his cheeks, dribbling down to his lips, locking the oxygen in his throat –
And most of all, he heard her silent cries.
Why?
Why?
Why?
His hands, meant to push her away, tightened around her waist instead.
Why won’t you make me yours?
A tiny sob broke out of her as the sheikh hauled her down, leaving not a millimeter of space between their hearts, and the lips under hers, cold and hard for so long, moved away from her mouth.
She almost cried out, thinking this was the end of her – the end of them – until she felt it.
His lips moving down, and her heart hammered harder and faster against her chest at the tantalizingly slow descent of his mouth.
Down, down, down –
His lips paused just before her collarbone, and her arms instinctively went around his neck.
He began to suck, and her body jerked over his. It was more beautiful than she could ever imagine, but oh how it hurt.
Why?
Why?
Why?
Because no matter how much she wished she could pretend this was more than a kiss – it was not.
And when he finally lifted his head, the heat of his lips leaving a tiny red brand on her neck, the only hope she had left to cling to was the bleak promise in his gaze.
If it were up to me...
More than anyone else in the world...
I’d want it to be you.
Eleven
Staff members of the finance department hurried to bow respectfully as Sheikh Altair Al-Atassi strode past them. Unlike the other royal sheikhs, the kingdom’s army commander’s lethal build was more brawny than whipcord lean, and the intimidating scar that ran from his left eyelid until the edge of his chiseled face only intensified the aura of danger surrounding him.
