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“Hello?”
“Marhava, anisdi.” Hello, milady. “You sound breathless.”
“You’re imagining things.”
The sheikh’s low laugh had her toes curling hard. “Am I?”
Shit. “Just tell me why you’ve called,” she muttered. This guy was just too sexy for his own good – and the cocky bastard knew it.
“I just had a look at my calendar...”
“Oh?”
His lips twitched at her deceptively casual tone. “Is that supposed to fool me, little one?” He expected her to laugh or say something snarky, but instead the silence deepened, and his smile faded. “Hyacinth?”
“Don’t call me that,” she said sharply.
“Maehdina.”
She heard the faint coolness of the sheikh’s tone and knew she only had herself to blame for it. She also knew she was acting like an idiot, but even so – she just couldn’t help it. “Anisah’s calling me,” she heard herself lie. “I should go.”
She ended the call before the sheikh could say another word, and she glared and glared at her phone, knowing that the moment she stopped, she would begin crying.
I’m trying so hard here, God.
I really am.
So can’t there just be one day I’m allowed to pretend You don’t want someone else for him?
Hyacinth was about to return to the apartment when her phone suddenly vibrated against her palm, startling her into a stop. It was a text message from the sheikh.
Rayyan: If that wasn’t PMS talking, this might be my most short-lived relationship yet.
She bit her lip hard, torn between smiling like a fool and bursting into tears – like an even bigger fool. She knew, oh, of course she knew that the sheikh was speaking the truth, and if it had been most other women, the sheikh wouldn’t have bothered with a text. Her number would have been blocked, and her face and name relisted in his memory under Bitches He Didn’t Give a Fuck About.
Hyacinth: My bad. Totally my bad. No argument here.
Hyacinth: It just took me by surprise.
Hyacinth: She used to call me that, too.
Upon reading her messages, Rayyan had to let go of his phone before he accidentally ended up crushing it in his hand. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He should have known the inexplicable change in her attitude would have something to do with Cecile.
While Hyacinth wasn’t exactly surprised when her phone rang again, she still couldn’t keep her voice from turning into a panicky croak when she answered his call. “M-Marhava.” Hello. And just because she would rather be naughty than teary, she added huskily, “I’m sorry, alsyd.”
Rayyan leaned back in his chair, his eyes closing as the teasing sweetness of her words laced his senses with honey and wine. “Whenever you call me that,” he murmured under his breath, “the word never sounds the way it’s supposed to be.”
“Is t-that so?” She choked back a nervous giggle, her senses reeling and her body growing heavy and pliant in a whirlpool of heat at the hint of innuendo in the sheikh’s voice.
“Nem.” Yes. “I’ve done my best to ignore it in the past, but now that you truly are my woman...”
She swallowed hard at the sheikh’s meaningful pause. How the fuck was it possible that just hearing him breathe from the other end of the line was making her insides twist in acute sexual awareness?
“You make the word sound dirty—-”
Her lips parted in silent shock.
“And it’s making me want to do equally dirty things to you.”
A full minute passed before Hyacinth could finally make her vocal cords work again. “Who the fuck are you, and what did you do to the prudish Sheikh Rayyan?”
The sheikh smiled. “I have always been like this, majamira.”
She pouted. “But just not with me. Is that it?”
“Nem.” Yes.
“Until now.”
“Until now,” he agreed.
“Because—-” Don’t say it, don’t say it. But the words came out anyway. “You’ve given up on Mrs. B.?”
The sheikh didn’t answer right away, but the silence didn’t hurt. It was silly, but she really did feel like she could hear his thoughts, could sense exactly what he was thinking of –
Because more than anyone else in the world –
I want it to be with you.
“Rayyan?” It was all so suddenly clear, and even though the thought of it frightened her to death, she also knew it was what she truly wanted.
“What is it?” he asked right away, protective instincts kicking in at hearing the sound of uncertainty in her voice.
She took a deep breath.
Right or wrong, she wanted this.
And so she simply blurted it out.
“No more excuses, no more delays, no more arguments—-”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“I’m asking you to fuck me.”
Rayyan choked.
“Now.”
He fought for control – and failed, her words devouring his sanity until all that was left were her words.
I’m asking you to fuck me.
“Goddammit, H.”
But she had already hung up on him.
FUCK.
FUCK.
FUCK.
He shot to his feet with a muttered expletive as his throbbing cock instantly sprang into full arousal.
