The combination of sensations was too much, she thought as she gave herself up to the gentle sucking at her breasts and the rhythmic teasing between her legs.
“Tell me the pilot isn’t going to walk in on us,” she said, her voice thick.
“Don’t worry,” Rafiq told her. “He won’t. Relax.”
As he spoke he moved his hands to the waistband of her jeans and unfastened the button there. She swayed back.
“You can’t take my pants off,” she said, shocked by the suggestion.
He smiled. “Why not? We have plenty of time.”
“But we’re in an airplane.”
“I want to touch you. I want to feel your wetness and bury my fingers inside of you.” The smile returned. “You don’t have to enjoy it.”
She was tempted by what he offered, but nervous about where they were.
“Just for a second,” she said.
He chuckled, helped her to stand.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said as she slipped off her shoes, then tugged down her jeans. Her panties quickly followed.
Naked from the waist down, she straddled him again and braced herself on the seatback. He immediately went to work on her breasts, even as he made good on his word and slipped his finger inside of her.
She felt herself react instantly. Her muscles clenched around him as he moved in and out of her. At the same time, he used his thumb to rub against her swollen center. His mouth caressed her right breast and with his free hand, he went to work on the other one.
The man was talented, she thought hazily as she tensed in anticipation of her climax. Her eyes popped open. She couldn’t! Not here. Not like that.
But everything felt too good. She didn’t want him to stop.
“Just another minute,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed. “I’ll count to sixty and then you’ll have to—”
Her orgasm caught her unaware. One second she’d been determined to stay detached enough to stop, then next she lost herself in shuddering pleasure. She held in a cry of delight and rubbed herself against his hand.
When she was finished, she looked at him. “That was incredible.”
“I would agree,” he said, then kissed her.
She dropped her gaze to his crotch where she could clearly see his erection. “What about you? Don’t you want to…you know?”
“Under other circumstances, I would say yes. But not here. Not your first time.”
Soon, she thought as she stood and reached for her clothes.
“Just so you’re clear, my family is completely normal,” Kiley said as she pointed the way out of the airport.
Rafiq steered the rental car and wondered if she was nervous about him meeting her family or embarrassed about what had just happened on the plane.
He enjoyed giving her pleasure. In time he would take his own, but for now it was enough to please her.
“You have two sisters,” he said. “Heather and…?”
“Ann. They’re both married. And they’ll be there, of course. Along with their husbands, in-laws, Ann’s kids, some neighbors and Heather’s new baby. A big crowd.”
She sounded doubtful.
“It will be fun,” he said firmly.
“I hope so. And I told you about the hotels, right? There’s no really fancy one. At least, not that I could think of.”
“I made us a reservation nearby.”
She winced. “Okay, but if you hate it, you can go back to L.A. and I’ll fly home on a commercial flight.”
“Do you think me incapable of living without royal luxury for two days?”
“Not exactly.” She bit her lower lips. “Okay, yes. I do.” She hunched in her seat. “Don’t hate me.”
He laughed. “You’re being far too dramatic. I will fit in perfectly, your family will adore me and I will adore them. Relax.”
“I’m relaxed.”
She looked tense enough to snap. “Yes, I can see that. What have you told them about me?”
“That you’re my boss and we’re friends. Not that we’re dating or anything because this close to the wedding, that would be too weird to explain.”
He doubted her family would think of him as just her friend, but he didn’t say that to Kiley. She was already worried enough.
“I told you it was just a plain, one-story house, right?” she asked. “Nothing fancy.”
He chuckled. “Relax. Everything will be fine.”
Rafiq followed her directions and pulled up in front of a ranch-style home on a large lot. There were several cars parked in front. Kiley directly him to pull into the driveway, then sucked in a breath.
“Brace yourself,” she said as she unfastened her seat belt.
Just then the front door burst open and several people spilled onto the front lawn.
There was an older couple he took to be her parents, a few small children, a woman in her twenties who looked a lot like Kiley and two men who were probably the husbands. He pushed open his door and got out.
Kiley climbed out of the rental car and hurried to her parents. They both hugged her, then her mother held her at arm’s length.
“Are you all right?” the other woman asked. Rafiq assumed she was concerned about Kiley’s reaction to the aborted wedding.
“I’m fine,” Kiley said and hugged her again. “Great. Really.” She squeezed her mother’s arm. “Mom, Dad, this is my boss. Rafiq.” She grinned. “Actually the official title is Prince Rafiq of Lucia-Serrat.”
Her parents stared at him. Long experience had taught him that they weren’t sure what was expected of them. He stepped forward and held out his hand to Kiley’s father.
“A pleasure to meet you both,” he said as they shook hands. He turned to her mother. “Mrs. Hendrick.”
“Oh, dear. Just call me Jan. This is Jim. We’re pretty informal around here.” Jan smiled. “Are you really a prince?”
“I’m afraid so. It’s true what they say—you can’t pick your relatives. Please call me Rafiq.”
They led him into the house where he was introduced to the rest of the family. In a matter of minutes he was in the den with the men, watching college football.
“We’re Cal fans up here,” Jim said from his place in the black leather recliner, next to the chintz-covered sofa. “Except for Bart there, who likes USC. You have a favorite team?”
“Oklahoma,” Rafiq said easily. “This year they’re going all the way. Last year’s game against Florida showed everyone what they were capable of.”
He glanced at Jim, who sat with his mouth open.
“I like football,” Rafiq said with a grin.
“I guess you do. Huh. Never would have thought it.” He glanced at the clock. “Jan won’t let us have beers before noon on game day. Can’t say that I blame her. But it’s only during the season and it’s nearly noon. Bart, you go on and get us some beers. Rafiq? Gonna join us?”
“Absolutely.”
By late afternoon Rafiq had learned much more about the Hendrick family in general and Kiley in particular. He’d spent time with each of her sisters and her father. He’d heard about her disastrous appearance in a high school musical where she discovered she really couldn’t sing, and had seen pictures of her in her cheerleading uniform. He’d watched her laugh with her sisters, play with the toddlers and melt over the newborn.
She was very much a part of her world and he could see she’d come by her desire to be a wife and mother honestly. Jan Hendrick clucked over everyone. She’d spent lunch filling plates, passing out sodas and mop-ping up after the little ones, and she’d done it with an easy grace that had impressed him.
He liked that they’d accepted him and even occasionally forgotten who he was. As he stood on the rear patio and admired the fading colors in the roses, he wondered what he would have been like if he’d been raised in a family like this instead of on Lucia-Serrat.
The back door opened. He turned and saw Jan step out.
“May I join you?�
�� she asked.
“I would be delighted.”
She sighed. “You have the nicest manners. I guess you get that, growing up as a prince and all.”
“I had nannies and tutors who took etiquette very seriously.”
“I can’t even imagine.” She leaned against the patio railing and looked at him. “I want to thank you for being there for Kiley. These past few weeks have been hard on her.”
He studied the older woman’s blond hair. There were only a few streaks of gray and, oddly enough, they added to her attractiveness. She had big blue eyes her daughter had inherited and a ready smile. She glowed with life and contentment, as if she’d gotten everything she’d ever wanted.
“Kiley has handled herself well,” he said. “You should be proud of her.”
“I am, as always. She’s a good girl. Or should I say woman. She’s all grown-up. And now she’s had a big disappointment. I never took to Eric the way I took to the other girls’ husbands, but I thought we’d learn to love him. Now, looking back, I can see there were signs, but none of us wanted to pay attention.”
“Better she find out now rather than after the wedding.”
“I agree.” She studied him. “I can’t tell you how much I want to ask you your intentions, but I won’t. Kiley can handle herself. Still, I can’t help worrying about her.”
“She’s a remarkable woman and I have great respect for her. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Sometimes we don’t get what we want. I’d like you to be careful with her heart. You’re the kind of man a woman dreams about finding.”
He grimaced. “Because I’m a prince?”
“I won’t say that’s not interesting, but it’s not the main reason. There’s something about you.” She touched his arm. “Be kind to my little girl. That’s all I can ask.”
She walked inside the house. Rafiq watched her go. He almost wished he could have told her the truth. That she didn’t have to worry. Kiley had come to him in order to get revenge and she had no interest in making their relationship about much more than that.
As he stood alone on the patio, he found himself wondering what it would be like if he were different. If he was the kind of man who believed in love and happily-ever-after. Then he would have to regret letting her go. But he didn’t believe, and when the three months were up, he would walk away without looking back.
“My mother approves,” Kiley said as they drove toward the hotel that evening.
Rafiq glanced at her. “I doubt that.”
“It’s true. She told me. She said you’re everything a woman could want in a man.” Her mother had also told her to be careful about getting her heart broken, but Kiley already knew that.
“I enjoyed meeting your family,” he said. “They are good people.”
“Thank you. I’d been afraid things would be awkward, but you fit right in.” She glanced at him. “I had no idea you were a college football fan.”
“I’m a man with many interests.”
“Apparently.” Right now she was one of them—but for how long?
Don’t go there, she told herself. Don’t think about the future. There was only now. This night, this week, this month. Or three of them, to be precise. And then he would let her go.
When she’d asked about being his mistress, she’d been interested in revenge, nothing more. She hadn’t thought about Rafiq as a person. Now she knew more of the man, and she liked him. She also admired him. Being in his company made her happy. She trusted him, laughed with him, wanted him. It was, she acknowledged, a recipe for emotional disaster.
She also knew that if she told him she was afraid of falling for him, he would break things off immediately. So she wouldn’t say anything. She would live life to the fullest and deal with the consequences when their time was up. She would also abide by their agreement of an affair—nothing more.
She wanted to believe she mattered to Rafiq, and in some ways she was sure she did. But he was a prince, and the woman he chose to marry had serious implications. He wouldn’t choose lightly, and he would never choose a regular woman from a completely normal middle-class American family. It just wasn’t done.
There would be pain when the relationship ended, but she would survive. And in the surviving, she would learn and grow. Having been involved with Eric and then with Rafiq, she would know what to look for in a man and what to avoid. She would find the right partner, fall in love and start the family she’d always wanted. And for the rest of her life, she would have the memories of these three magic months.
They drove into the hotel parking lot and stopped by the valet. As their luggage was unloaded by the bellman, Rafiq took her hand and led her inside.
He checked them in and followed the night manager to their room.
Tonight, she thought as the other man explained about the hotel amenities. They would be together tonight. She was tired of waiting, tired of being the student. She wanted to be his equal—a lover he found fascinating.
“Here is our presidential suite,” the manager said as he opened one side of a double door.
Kiley looked at Rafiq. “I didn’t book this.”
“I know. I had my travel agent take care of it.”
The room was lovely, with a view of the city, a spacious living room and two bedrooms. For her it was totally upscale, although she had a feeling that Rafiq normally traveled in more style.
Their luggage was brought up. He tipped the bellman, who left with the manager.
She crossed to the window and he followed. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into his embrace.
“Thank you for staying over,” she said.
“We had to. There’s brunch tomorrow at your parents’ house. I’m looking forward to it.”
She smiled, then turned in his arms and touched a stain on his shirt. “I think the baby spit up on you.”
“I am sure of it.”
“You didn’t mind being run over by toddlers or dragged into family arguments about where to go on vacation or the state of the roof.”
“I enjoyed myself today. They are good people and they didn’t have any expectations of me.”
“A pleasant surprise?”
“You don’t know how much.”
She could imagine, though. The night of the fund-raiser had shown her that she wouldn’t have enjoyed growing up in his world, always on display.
She studied his face, the handsome lines and masculine features. She touched his mouth and remembered how he’d touched her on the plane.
He smiled. “There are two bedrooms,” he said. “Which would you prefer?”
She pointed to the master, with the large bed and marble bathroom. “That one.”
“Then I’ll take the other one.”
“I don’t think so.”
His eyebrows rose.
She shrugged. “Unless it’s really important to you, of course. I’m not going to force you to sleep with me.”
“Kiley?”
“You said to let you know. So I am. I’m ready, Rafiq. I want us to make love tonight.”
Chapter Nine
Her words made Rafiq hard in an instant. He ached to claim her right there, to strip off her clothes and bury himself inside of her. Control seemed unimportant in the face of his growing need.
But he held back. As much as he wanted to plunge himself inside of her, he wanted to make this good for her more. There would only ever be one first time for her. He would always be the first man to make her his. He wanted to make sure every moment of their lovemaking made her tremble with delight.
Without speaking, he took her hand and led her into the bedroom. Once there, he turned to her and pulled her close, then lowered his head so that he could claim her with a kiss.
He felt her instant surrender. She melted into him, parting her lips and clinging to him. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her thighs brushed his.
He slipped his tongue into her mouth and tasted her sweet heat
. She welcomed him, circling, rubbing, dancing. Each stroke, every brush, even the lightest touch of her fingers on his back inflamed him. Need pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He had never been one to simply take what was offered. He prided himself on reducing his bed partners to whimpering puddles of sexual satisfaction, but he had never wanted this much before.
It was as if the ancient blood of his heritage, of those long-gone desert warriors, now controlled him. He wanted to tear off her clothes and gaze upon her naked body. He wanted to move inside of her, filling her until they both cried out in ecstasy.
But she was a virgin and patience was required.
He forced the erotic images from his mind and gently stroked her back. He deepened the kiss, but made no other attempt to move things along. There would be plenty of time, he told himself.
She was the one to pull away and kiss his jaw. As she rubbed her body against his, she nibbled on his neck, then sucked his earlobe. His erection pulsed.
“You’re going slow,” she said, speaking into his ear.
“Yes. It’s your first time.”
“Don’t.”
He stiffened. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t go slow.” She looked at him, and he saw the desire in her eyes. “I meant what I said. I’m ready. Touch me.”
As she spoke, she unfastened the button on her jeans. He accepted the invitation and slid down the zipper, then eased his hand between her panties and her soft, warm skin.
Then he swore. She was hot, wet and already swollen. He rubbed the engorged center of her pleasure and made her moan. He eased a finger inside of her, and her hips arched toward him. He withdrew and she whimpered.
It was too much, he thought, battling animal urges. He could have held back if she’d been cautious or afraid or hesitant. He could have waited longer if she’d needed more time. But her blatant invitation was more than he could resist. More than he should have to.
He dragged her to him and kissed her again. But this time he claimed her as his. As he entered her mouth, he began unfastening the buttons on her blouse.
She reached for his shirt, but her inexperience slowed her down. He had her blouse off and her bra open before she’d managed two buttons. He broke the kiss and stepped back.
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