by Jane Porter
Jemma selected Mansfield Park by Jane Austen and curled up in bed to read. She read the afternoon away and was still reading when the maid appeared to help Jemma dress for dinner.
“Is His Highness back?” Jemma asked, reluctantly putting the book down.
The maid shook her head. “No.”
“Then why do I need to dress for dinner? Can’t I have dinner here, in bed?”
Jemma finished the novel over dessert and promptly began Sense and Sensibility but ended up falling asleep over it.
She was still asleep, holding the novel, when Mikael arrived at midnight.
He stood over the bed for a moment watching her before carefully plucking the book from her hand, drawing the covers up to her shoulder, and turning the lamp out next to the bed.
He showered in the marble bathroom and then after drying off, joined her in bed. He was naked. But then, so was she.
* * *
Jemma woke up in the night and reached out to her side, relieved and delighted to discover Mikael there.
She moved toward him, and he opened his arms to her, drawing her close.
She pressed her face to his warm chest, breathing in his scent. He was back and he felt good and smelled good and she lifted her face to his, offering her lips. He kissed her, taking her mouth and then rolling her onto her back, to thrust deep inside her.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, taking all of him, wanting to hold him as close as possible, aware that things were changing. She was changing.
She...loved...him.
She loved him.
All of a sudden it made sense. She was happy because she was in love.
* * *
They fell back asleep and then woke up sometime in the morning to make love again. This time Jemma didn’t fall back asleep but slipped from bed to head to the bathroom to shower.
Mikael watched Jemma cross the bedroom, naked, her beautiful body so familiar to him now.
Maybe that’s why his chest felt heavy and tight as he watched her disappear into the bathroom.
Maybe that’s why sex had felt different last night and this morning.
Maybe it’s because she was familiar to him. Important to him.
But she was different, too, he thought. She hadn’t merely been in his arms, but with him...in him...which didn’t make sense, as it was his body filling hers, but somehow she’d gotten inside of him. He had felt her, feeling her not just with his body but his heart.
The emotions and sensations had made the sex more intense.
She’d felt so alive beneath him, so fierce and fragile, so beautiful that he couldn’t get close enough to her, and he’d tried, God knew he’d tried.
Slow, deep strokes, hands holding her down, and still so he could kiss her, ravish her, draw her all the way into him.
And it hadn’t been enough. He couldn’t get enough. Even after one, two orgasms...hers, his.
Before, when he’d pleasured her, he’d wanted to blow her mind, enslave her through passion, make her yield to him. Belong to him. If she was going to be his, she should be happy with him.
But today it’d been something else.
There had been more heat than ever before but the heat wasn’t about skin or erotic zones. It wasn’t about the orgasm, either.
It was her. Wanting her. Holding her. Being with her.
And he could have sworn she’d been into him. Not the act. Not the friction and tension, not the positions, either.
Somehow the game of seduction had changed and become something more. More real, more honest, more raw. Suddenly, the stakes seemed higher than ever. Could he make Jemma happy? Could he keep her here with him in Saidia?
And if he could, was it fair to her? Or to those in her family?
* * *
Mikael threw back the covers, and headed for the bathroom where he could hear Jemma showering.
Hot steam filled the white marble bath, thick fragrant clouds hanging in the air.
He could just make her out through the wisps, her long hair piled high on her head, her hands on her breasts, spreading the bath gel across her lovely pale skin. He hardened, wanting her, craving her again.
He should be sated by now. He should have had his fill.
How many times did a man need a woman?
And yet watching her dark head dip, as she looked down her long, slim torso, to the suds running from her breasts to her belly, his body tightened, his arousal surging upright.
He couldn’t stay away. He needed her. Again. He’d have her, too.
Mikael pushed open the glass door to the sunken shower, steam rising, embracing him.
Jemma turned toward him, startled, her lips parting in surprise.
Her eyes, those lips, her face...
Hunger raced through him. Hunger and the need to have her, hold her, keep her. He reached for her, and pushing her back against the wet marble wall, pressed his chest to hers, feeling the slippery film of soap suds between them, skin slick, enticing.
He rubbed his chest across her soft breasts and felt her nipples pebble. He inhaled sharply, as something wrenched in his chest.
This was new, this need. He didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand this desire. It was bigger than before, fiercer, wild in a way that baffled him, knocking him off balance.
Sex did not confuse him.
Women did not confuse him.
But he was confused now.
Confused by Jemma with the green eyes and soft lips and sweetness that pierced his heart and made him want to please her and protect her, keeping her safe, keeping her from harm’s way.
With the water coursing down she lifted her face to his and he couldn’t resist her lips. His head dropped, his mouth slanting across hers, hands framing her face.
Beautiful Jemma.
Beautiful woman.
Beautiful heart.
His chest burned. His eyes stung. He leaned in, crowding her, trying to take the upper hand. He was the master here. He was in control. He would prove this was just sex.
He broke off the kiss and turned her around, pressing her breasts to the warm slick marble even as he pulled her bottom toward him. His hand reached between her legs, finding her softness, and heat. He pushed up against her bottom, stroking her, feeling her legs quiver as his body strained against her.
She was so hot, so wet. He wanted to bury himself in her, wanted to have her surround him, hot and tight, but he was too rough right now, and he couldn’t hurt her. Couldn’t force her. She’d given him so much earlier, it would be wrong to just take her now—
“I’m waiting,” she said, her voice husky, her hips rocking against him. “Stop teasing me. You know I want you.”
The sex was hot and Jemma left the shower satisfied, but Mikael did not.
That wasn’t right, taking her like that. But was bringing her to the Kasbah in the first place right? He’d kidnapped a foreign woman. Forced her to marry him.
He toweled off slowly, guilt beginning to eat at him, even as a little voice in his head whispered, you are wrong. This is wrong.
He didn’t like the little voice, didn’t want the little voice. The voice represented the past, and weakness. But Karims must be strong. Karims must be above the law.
* * *
Mikael spent several hours at his desk on phone calls and in meetings before changing into comfortable clothes to meet Jemma for dinner in the grand courtyard. The pavilions and pools had been lit with sapphire and pink lights.
Jemma wore a long deep blue kaftan with silver and gold embroidery. The inky color of her dress made her green eyes even more brilliant. He sat across from her at dinner to see her, but the table between them meant he couldn’t touch her too easily.
Instead he watched her
face and her eyes as she talked during their meal. Her green eyes shimmered when she laughed. She laughed easily, her expression dancing.
She was so warm. And good. She deserved good things, and good people.
He was not a good person.
Powerful, yes. Wealthy, exceptionally so. But good? No.
During dessert and coffee he remembered he had a gift for her, and he pulled the velvet box from the pocket in his robe.
“For you,” he said, handing her the box.
She looked up at him, dark winged eyebrows lifting higher. “You have to stop.”
“Never.”
She laughed, eyes dancing. “Fine. I tried. I won’t fight you anymore because a gift now and then is rather nice.” Then she opened the box, lifted the stunning sapphire earrings out, jaw dropping in awe. “Oh,” she whispered, giving one earring a slight shake. “These, my husband, are absolutely stunning.”
Mikael’s lips curved, and yet on the inside he grew very still.
My husband, she’d said. Not sarcastically, or angrily. But kindly. Warmly.
It made his chest tighten and ache. He tried very hard to be a good king, but that didn’t make him deserving of a woman like Jemma.
“Be careful,” he said to her, leaning across the table and kissing her gently. “Be careful of wolves in sheep’s clothing.”
She smiled into his eyes as her hand reached up to cup his face. “I know of no sheep. Just wolves. And hawks. And scary desert scorpions and snakes.”
He stared into her eyes an extra moment, taking her in, feeling the impact of her beauty and warmth. “I could very well be one of those poisonous scorpions or snakes.”
“You could.” She rubbed his jaw, fingernails scratching lightly along his stubble before sitting back. “But I don’t think so. I’ve seen who you are. You’re a man determined to restore honor to your country, and preserve tradition. You are protective of women, just look at how you’ve treated me, and provided for my mother.”
“Because I failed to provide for mine.”
“You’re making amends.”
“Too late, though, for her.”
He rose abruptly from the table, unable to sit another moment, and extended his hand to her. “Come with me.”
* * *
He led her to the enormous bed in the Sapphire Chamber, and stripped her of her gown and delicate silk bra and thong before kissing her and making love to her. The lovemaking was slow, sensual, lasting for hours.
Satiated, Jemma remained in Mikael’s arms. He held her closely and Jemma sighed, feeling secure.
He felt right to her. Being with him felt good. The humiliation and shame of the past year couldn’t hurt her when she was in his arms. Damien’s rejection no longer mattered. Damien wasn’t anything but a lousy model, a spineless man. She smiled to herself, feeling safe...content...loved.
Mikael had somehow made her feel whole again, and strong.
Saidia wasn’t home, but Mikael could be. And while he hadn’t said words of love, he’d given her something else. His commitment. His promise.
She trusted his word. She cherished his vows because he was a man of his word, and a man who took his commitments seriously.
This, she thought, wrapping her arms over his, this is what she needed. This is who she wanted. This was her future.
* * *
In the morning, Jemma woke slowly, feeling deliciously lazy, and deeply rested. Eyes still closed, she let herself breathe and float. At least, it felt as if she were floating. Everything inside her was warmth and light. Easy.
The world was good.
Life was better.
Her lashes fluttered, a butterfly kiss, and she opened her eyes, and saw Mikael lying next to her. She smiled with pleasure. She loved sleeping with him, loved having him there with her all night.
She was quite attracted to this man.
“Good morning, laeela,” Mikael said, eyes still closed, his voice deep and husky with sleep.
“You’re awake,” she said, pleased.
“No. I’m still sleeping,” he said, his voice still with that lovely gravelly growl she found enormously sexy. “My eyes are shut.”
“Then how did you know I was awake?” she asked, amused, propping her head on her hand.
“I could feel you watching me.”
“Then you are awake.”
He sighed. His beautiful dark eyes opened, and he looked at her, black eyebrow lifting. “Now I am.”
She grinned. “Hi.”
He sighed again, heavily, but his eyes glinted. “Hello.”
Jemma laughed softly. He was acting put out but he wasn’t really. “How did you sleep?” she asked him.
“Well. And you?”
“Exceedingly well.”
“You like our fresh desert air.”
“No, I like you. Being held by you.” She felt bold, but she didn’t care. How could she be shy around him when he made her feel so beautiful and strong? “That’s three nights you’ve stayed with me, all through the night.”
“I am committed to your pleasure.”
“You most certainly are,” she agreed, hiding her smile as she studied his hard, handsome features. Such a striking face. All strong lines and edges and then that soft curve of lip...lower, upper. He was so nice to look at. “I appreciate your commitment.”
A deep groove formed next to his mouth. His lips quirked. “You are shameless.”
“You’ve only yourself to blame, Your Highness. You’ve made me shameless.”
He reached out to brush long strands of hair from her brow, gently pushing them back from her face, his thumb easing across her forehead in a soft caress. “Have I? How?”
Just that light touch sent shivers through her, and darts of pleasure to her breasts and between her thighs. Senses stirred, she exhaled slowly, carefully, her thoughts tangling. It was hard to think when Mikael touched her. “How can I feel shame when everything we do together makes me feel wonderful, and powerful?”
“Sex makes you feel powerful?”
She frowned. It didn’t sound right, not phrased like that. “I’m sure great sex makes lots of people feel powerful, but I wasn’t referring to sex in general, but sex with you.” She frowned again. Because that didn’t sound right, either. She wasn’t having sex with Mikael. She was making love with Mikael. She was loving Mikael.
She was most definitely in love with Mikael. She wished she could tell him. Wished she knew how to tell him that the pleasure she felt with him wasn’t merely sexual. It wasn’t just physical. Her pleasure was in her heart, and soul.
She looked into his eyes, and she flashed back to that first day on the desert dunes when she’d been melting inside the fur coat and high boots. He’d had the same intense expression in his dark eyes and she’d been afraid...
Now she was afraid again, but for a different reason. She couldn’t imagine being happy without him.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, reaching up to his face, placing her hand against his hard, high cheekbone as she pressed her lips to his. “Possess me. Remind me that I’m your wife and queen.”
* * *
His wife and queen.
Mikael stared blindly out through the glass doors, seeing nothing of his courtyard, and seeing only Jemma’s face.
He, who was so good at creating order, structure, and discipline, hadn’t planned on falling in love with her. He hadn’t planned on wanting her, or needing her, not the way he wanted her and needed her.
He’d married her out of duty and responsibility but suddenly his marriage was one of love. Trust. Respect.
He’d known he was growing fond of her these past few days. He’d known he was getting attached, too. It hadn’t troubled him. At least, he hadn’t let it trouble him
. He would only allow himself to think of one thing—doing what was right for Saidia. But now he felt a wash of shame. This was wrong chaining her here, to him. He couldn’t trap her in Saidia. He couldn’t do it to her. She deserved so much better than this.
* * *
Jemma was in her sapphire room, sitting on the floor, painting her toenails when Mikael entered a half hour later.
He didn’t knock. But then, he hadn’t knocked on the door in days, taking it for granted that her room was his. That she was his. He was right. It hadn’t even taken eight days to fall in love with him. She’d given him her heart far earlier...maybe even that first day they’d met, when she’d been modeling on the sand dunes.
He silently watched her paint her pinky toe a foamy mint green. She glanced up at him, smiling. “I remember how much you like the color green.”
“I don’t remember that at all.”
“You said you loved my eyes.”
“Yes, your eyes. Not green toenails.”
Jemma laughed and dipped the brush into the bottle for more polish. “Are you sure that’s what you said? I worry about your memory.”
“I worry about you and facts.”
She grinned, happy. Ridiculously happy. Everything inside her bubbled up warm, and hopeful. Her heart felt good. Mikael made her feel good. And safe. Loved. He might not say the words the way she wanted to hear them, but she felt his love in his actions. She felt his affection and love in the way he touched her, and the warmth and passion with which he kissed her. She saw it in the amusement in his eyes as they talked, teasing, bantering. The fact that he would banter with her, and laugh with her, said it all.
Lips curving, she added a second coat to the pinky toe, before capping the bottle of polish and setting it aside. She tipped her head back to look up into his beautiful face, with those dark, mysterious and oh so sexy eyes. “What can I do for you this beautiful day, my love?”
The hint of amusement died from his eyes, his expression shuttering, his jaw hardening. It was a subtle shift. Someone else might not have picked up on the change, but she did. Jemma had spent so much time studying him these past eight days that even the narrowing of his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.
