MARRYING HER ENEMY & STOLEN BY THE DESERT KING

by Connelly, Clare

  “No.” His eyes flashed with determination. So long as she didn’t marry the bastard Fayez Haddad, she’d be just fine. That same determination flittered in his gut, reassuring him that he was doing the right thing. This course of action was best for everyone. “You will be happy in Argenon.”

  “Thank you.” She hadn’t realised until then just how badly she’d needed to hear that.

  “When you say formidable…?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That must sound incredibly ungrateful.”

  He frowned in response. “No.”

  “Good. Because I am. Grateful. After my parents died, I would have gone into foster care, or been adopted, and I think I would have lost all this. My heritage. My parents’ wishes…”

  “Your heritage,” he repeated. “Your family left Argenon many generations ago. Do you really feel such a connection to our people?”

  Her smile was weak. “Are you trying to change my mind about our wedding.”

  He didn’t answer, simply lifted his own water and sipped it, his eyes locked broodingly to hers over the rim of the glass.

  But the seed had been planted inside Kylie and doubts grew easily in the furtive soil of her gut. “Do you resent this marriage?”

  “Yes,” he said, an answer so immediate and so honest that he had to backpedal swiftly. “But your body offers some compensation.” His smile showed that he was joking, but Kylie’s confusion was growing.

  And he saw it.

  He recognised it.

  Damn it. Khalifa stood, not taking his eyes off Kylie’s for even a moment. But when he spoke it was in his own language. Words she could only catch one or two of, and loudly, not for her benefit.

  The effect though translated for her. The servants that were dotted over the deck dispersed instantly, forming a line that disappeared below deck. Within seconds, they were alone.

  “Come here.”

  Kylie’s face wore a mask of bravado but her heart was rabbiting hard and fast in her chest, the tattoo urgent and overpowering. She stared at him, immobilised not by a lack of desire but rather an over-surge of it. Her limbs were weakened by lust. She stared at him, a question in the depths of her irises – a question he instinctively understood.

  With a noise heralding from deep in his throat, he stood first, moving around the table to where Kylie sat. She was frozen.

  He knelt beside her, curling an arm around the back of her chair, so that her body was wrapped in his strength and his masculine scent assaulted her nostrils.

  “I want you,” he said simply, and the reassurance was so perfect that she sucked in a breath. “Do not doubt it.”

  “I do doubt it…”

  “Why?” The fingers of one hand curled around her ankle and then lightly ran upwards, teasing the soft flesh of her calf, making her suck in a sharp breath of surprise. His eyes were locked to her profile and she had the sense that she couldn’t hide from him.

  “How can you not see how badly I want this; how badly I want to teach your body its limitations.”

  She gasped as his hands moved higher, to her inner flesh.

  “I want to make you beg for me, for more.” He grinned as his fingers moved higher and she froze, finally turning her face to his. “Starting with this.”

  Chapter 3

  IT WAS AN INVASION that took her breath away completely, obliterating everything she’d thought she’d known about sex, attraction, desire and need. A man she had met less than an hour earlier had breached her most intimate spaces and she was putty in his hands, literally. She sank lower in the chair and his finger swirled the entrance to her womanhood, easily passing the cotton pants she wore.

  Kylie shuddered in the seat, grateful for the sunglasses she had on her head that she could drag lower, to cover her eyes.

  “No.” A growl. A gruff commandment. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”

  “I’m…” She sucked in a deep breath, a shaking breath, turning to face him. With his spare hand, he removed her glasses, his eyes searching hers as his finger moved deeper, teasing her sensitive nerve endings.

  “This is …” She tilted her head back, her hair falling like a blonde wave down her back. “It’s…”

  He studied her from hooded eyes as pink spread across her face.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s crazy,” she ground out, thought barely possible. “It’s crazy.”

  “Why?” He began to slide his finger out then thrust into her and she made a keening noise from low in her throat.

  “I don’t … know you…”

  “You agreed to marry me,” he pointed out, the lie only a small one. After all, she had agreed to marry a man she’d never met.

  “But this … isn’t … marriage…” A whirlwind of feeling was wrapping around her, digging into her back, her spine, her heart, her core. She was quivering and her hand dropped lower, to push his away but he caught her wrist and paused her action.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his finger so close to tipping her over the edge. She dug her nails into her palm.

  “I’m terrified,” she admitted freely, her eyes huge. “What are we doing?”

  Her admission surprised him and more than that, too. It did something odd to his assurance. He ignored the doubts. Worked beyond them. Khalifa had spent a lifetime serving Argenon and he did so now. At least, that’s what he told himself. The ancient grudge he carried towards the Haddads, the hatred he felt for Fayez Haddad, were strengthened by his own feelings and grievances. But he told himself he was being noble. That seducing this woman served his country – even as it served his own selfish need for revenge more.

  He kissed her though, kissed away her doubts as her body surrendered itself to him, trembling against him as he found her most sensitive cluster of nerves and stoked them to fever pitch. Kylie lifted a hand and gripped his shirt, holding him tight, holding her breath as his tongue duelled with hers and then, in an explosion of heat and sensation, she cried out, the intensity of release overpowering her completely.

  She kept her head pressed to his chest, riding the waves, holding him tight, eyes squeezed shut as feelings eclipsed common sense and reality.

  “What was that?” She whispered, not moving, holding him tight, breathing him in. His finger was still inside her; her muscles squeezed him and he smiled against her hair.

  “Inevitable.”

  “But…”

  “Hush.” He withdrew slowly but the pain was no less intense. Not a physical pain, but a separation that she didn’t want to bear.

  “I don’t know you.”

  He smiled, a grim smile of acceptance. “You will.”

  “I never expected…” she swallowed, trying desperately to get to grips with her wayward emotions. “I never expected that I would feel this. For you.”

  He stood, and again, the sense of absence invoked desolation in her soul. She watched as he moved back to his seat, settling himself opposite her and relaxing back in his chair.

  “Eat.”

  Kylie blinked her eyes, focussing on the plate in front of her. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Eat.” More of a command, her gaze skidded to his.

  “I thought our marriage wasn’t going to involve your ordering me around.”

  “We are not married yet.”

  She arched a brow and made no effort to lift her fork. Her hands were still shaking; she kept them clasped in her lap. “So you can boss me around until we are.”

  “You have not eaten all day. Eat now.”

  Kylie nodded jerkily but still made no effort to lift a finger.

  He stared at her, only the sound of the ocean lapping gently against the boat keeping them company.

  “What if you hadn’t desired me,” he prompted thoughtfully, thinking of her betrothed with distaste. Though Fayez had never had difficulty making himself attractive to women, he supposed begrudgingly, and out of nowhere, he thought of Selena, rage bursting through him. She had deserved better than to fall in love with a
piece of scum like Fayez Haddad.

  “I never thought about it,” she said simply.

  “How can you say that? You agreed to marry … me,” he fudged slightly. “Knowing nothing about me? Least of all if you would want me?”

  “I didn’t agree to marry you,” she said quietly, her eyes flicking to his for the briefest second before returning to the empty plate before her. “My parents did. I just never questioned it.”

  “I find that impossible to believe.”

  She nodded slowly. “I know.”

  “You are twenty two. At some point, surely…”

  Another nod, and now she focussed her swirling gaze on the ocean, passing beneath their boat. “When I was a teenager,” she confirmed softly. “But I was told the contracts were legally binding.” She shrugged.

  “You didn’t question that?” He couldn’t keep the scorn from his voice.

  Kylie’s eyes were huge. “No. Why should I? The lawyer was nothing to do with your family…”

  Khalifa highly doubted that. “No one can be forced into marriage.”

  “No,” she agreed softly. “That’s true. Only by that point I was millions of dollars in debt to your parents.” She gnawed at her lower lip. “The alternative to our marriage is bankruptcy.”

  “So?” He arched his brows. “You’d choose marriage to a stranger for financial reasons?”

  She expelled a sigh, her mind still not able to focus properly. “You’re making it sound … it wasn’t just that.” She lifted the knife again, running her nail over the bumps caused by the gemstone. “My parents left surprisingly few instructions for me. Then again, I suppose they weren’t expecting to die.” She shrugged her slender shoulders and Khalifa tried not to notice how fragile she looked – like a beautiful porcelain person he might break if he didn’t take care. “This is the one thing I know they wanted. Does that make sense?”

  Khalifa was silent for a moment, digesting her interpretation of events. “And it doesn’t bother you that they sold you to a family in a foreign country?”

  Her eyes flew to his, confusion swirling in her depths. “They knew your family,” Kylie said thoughtfully. “If anything, I guess I’ve always felt comforted by that. By the fact that they had chosen a marriage for me. I know it’s old fashioned and totally not normal, but they’re never going to be here to meet my boyfriends, to approve of my choice… so I’ll go along with their choice.”

  Khalifa expelled a long, slow breath. “I see.” Only Kylie’s parents had chosen as their prospective son-in-law an abusive, alcoholic bastard. The idea of his marrying Kylie, purely for the credibility she would bring to their ancient claim to the throne of Argenon, filled him with latent anger.

  “Are you going to eat anything?”

  She bit down on her lip. “I’m suddenly… not… hungry.”

  He wanted to argue; she could see it in his face that her answer displeased him. And yet he stood, scraping his chair back. He held a hand out to her. “We’ll eat later.”

  Later.

  Later.

  The word swirling around and around her head even as she stood up and fell into step beside him. The hint of his exotic fragrance reached her – a combination of sandalwood and citrus. She breathed it in, and her pulse fired frantically.

  Though she knew the boat to be filled with servants, she saw none as they made their way below deck, down a set of highly polished steps, and into a light-filled corridor. They passed two rooms before he stopped walking abruptly, his eyes holding hers. He watched as she looked into the room just beyond, and saw the moment colour bloomed in her cheeks at the sight of the bed.

  It was a custom-make, like all his beds – even a King-size wasn’t large enough for Khalifa. He liked beds that were longer, and left plenty of room for adventure.

  The kind of adventure he was about to enjoy with Kylie.

  When he’d come to Sydney, he’d known seduction was essential. Only by taking her innocence would he be able to end her marriage prospects to the Haddad family. What he hadn’t bargained on was that he’d want her. For real.

  Actual want.

  And suddenly the enormity of what he was going to do – using her virginity to end her engagement – sat heavily around his neck. But he sure as hell wouldn’t let her marry Fayez.

  Renewed commitment to his plan saw him move an inch closer to her. “I do not want you to marry me if you’re not sure. And I cannot marry a woman who doesn’t suit me in bed.” His eyes held a challenge, one that made her heart squeeze and her stomach roll.

  “So if I don’t … if we don’t … you’ll call off the wedding?”

  A muscle jerked in his jaw. How easily he could manipulate her. She’d given him all the information he would need to do it. Her fear of owing the Haddads millions of dollars, for instance. Only he wouldn’t force her into this. No matter how badly he wanted to end her betrothal, he was still a man of honour.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at her.

  “This is your decision,” he said quietly, allowing her to make it. Trying to give her space to think.

  Kylie nodded jerkily, tilting her head towards the bed. It was enormous and anxiety was now holding her back. It wasn’t a lack of desire – she wanted him more than she could express, but suddenly her lack of experience was an enormous obstacle.

  “You have choices,” he heard himself offer into the silence. It continued to stretch between them, taut and long. Her throat moved visibly as she swallowed and he wondered at this odd desire to counsel her instead of seduce her. To protect her interests – rather than his country’s.

  “I know.” A soft murmur. She continued to stare at his bed, her colour deepening. “I’m not marrying you because I think I have to. Believe it or not, I want this marriage as much as my parents wanted it for me. It mattered to them, so it’s always mattered to me.”

  Regret was a stone in his gut. He would have happily paid off her debts to the Haddad family if she had expressed a desire to be free of the union.

  “I don’t know what to do.” A plaintive whisper as she looked up at him, her eyes huge.

  He frowned. “You just said you want to go through with it…”

  “I do. I don’t mean that.” She toyed with her fingers in front of her, but didn’t look away from his intense stare. “I mean in there. I don’t know what to do.” She cleared her throat awkwardly and he almost groaned.

  “All you have to do is feel.” He scooped down and picked her up then, cradling her against his chest as he carried her into the bedroom.

  Flashes of colour left brief impressions on Kylie’s surprised mind. The paintings on the walls – bright red and gold. The black of his bedlinen that had a gold thread weaved through it, and the frame of the bed which looked to be pure gold. The walls were cream and the floor was carpeted. A chandelier hung above the bed.

  He placed her on the bed but didn’t break away from her. His mouth chased hers, seeking it, dominating it, tasting her and his body weight on top of her was heavenly. She felt his heaviness and strength and writhed beneath him, enjoying the play of her softness against his planes and edges.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” She asked into his mouth, as her hands ran over his back, feeling his warmth and strength.

  “Yes, azeezi.” And his hands moved to the bottom of her dress, sliding it easily up her body, exposing her to his hands and his eyes.

  “But the contracts…” She pushed up on her elbows and then extended her arms above her head, helping him to remove the dress completely. He did so quickly, tossing it across the room so that it landed against the wall and slid with a soft thud to the floor.

  “I have no interest in the contracts right now.” He kissed the tip of her nose and it was such a strangely sweet gesture that her nerves quelled and she lifted her mouth to his, kissing him back with a passion she’d never known and which she instinctively knew how to wield.

  His hands ran over her body, exploring every inch of
it, lightly, hungrily, possessively, and she let him, angling herself so that he could touch all of her. She didn’t wear a bra and he disposed of her underpants easily, pushing them down her legs as he brought his mouth onto her bare breast, rolling his tongue over her nipple until Kylie’s breath was rushed and her skin pink.

  “Please,” she whimpered, with no clue what she needed. More of this. More of everything.

  “Yes,” he nodded, understanding despite the vagueness of her query. He stood, staring down at her as he removed his clothing, one item at a time, never once lifting his gaze from her flushed face. And she was powerless to look away. She stared at him, stared until she was going to explode, and when she could no longer content herself with simply looking, she crawled into a kneeling position, her fingertips running over his chest. He watched her from beneath hooded eyes, her inspection making his arousal harden.

  She was tentative and he was hungry for her and yet he let her touch and look, letting her learn what she needed from his body, just as he’d touched her all over. She was curious and she was inexperienced. Her fingers shook as they dipped down his body, ringing circles above his erection, but she didn’t inch lower. She was careful not to go near it. It brought the ghost of a smile to his lips, but his kindness and patience had limits.

  He caught her wrist and, his eyes droll, dragged it so that her fingers were hovering above his manhood. And he guided her to touch him, releasing a low groan as her hand tentatively clasped his length.

  Heat flared in her eyes. She squeezed him and released, and ran shaking fingers over his tip, her expression shifting from tentative uncertainty to powerful awareness. Her lack of experience was obvious but it didn’t matter. He’d never been more turned on his life. Many more minutes and he’d be finished.

  “Enough.” He growled the word with unintended ferocity and kissed her as he pushed her backwards onto the bed.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered, but it was only a part of what she was feeling.

  “I know.” He paused, reaching into the bedside table and removing a condom. He sheathed himself quickly, and then brought his body back over hers.