by Leslie North
“You never will again.” She slid her hand between his legs, savoring his hiss of surprise. Raina had never been so bold, but Stella had no fear. She stroked him experimentally, and his cock swelled in her hand. “I want to taste you,” she said. “Get your pants off.”
David chuckled, dark and sultry. He braced himself against the headboard as Raina circled his nipple with her tongue, blowing on it to make him shiver. His abdominal muscles tensed as she worked her way down, twitching with each shock of pleasure. She relished her power over him, the way he responded to every touch and caress. She ran her thumb up his shaft, and he clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a moan. She darted her tongue along the slit, and he shuddered all over. He shouted aloud when she took him in all the way, a throaty bark of want.
“Fuck.”
Raina pulled back, afraid she’d hurt him. She’d done this before, but not recently or often. “You okay?”
“Never been better.” David ran his fingers through her hair. “Don’t stop.”
Raina took him at his word. He guided her, and she experimented, now teasing him with her tongue, now gliding her lips down his cock. She ran her nails up his thigh, and David stiffened. He clenched his fist in her hair and rocked back, breathing hard.
“Give me a moment. I want to last.” He closed his eyes and gripped himself tight. Raina trailed kisses down his hip, wringing a moan from his throat.
“Not helping.”
“No?” She slid up his body the way that dancer had done in the club, nipping at his shoulder, then his ear. This was what she’d wanted, David at her mercy, all rumpled and panting for more. She climbed into his lap, closing her eyes as she took him inside her. The sensation was intense, almost painful at first, then blossoming into pleasure as he began to move. Raina’s arousal built slowly, sparks of excitement turning to flames, a molten heat pooling in her belly.
She cried out as David flipped her over, and she called his name as he picked up the pace. He buried his face in her neck, and in her mind she saw the ceiling roll back, the stars scattered beyond. She bucked her hips wildly as her vision faded to white, clung to David as if he were the only thing holding her together. He cradled her to his chest as his rhythm stuttered, and she felt him follow her over the brink. She gulped at the cool night air, and for a while, all she heard was her breathing and his, and the thundering of her heart in her ears.
“Mm...” He rolled off her and nuzzled up to her side. “You’re magnificent.”
“So are you.”
“Stay a while?” David stole a lazy kiss. “I like the afterglow. Spooning and all that.”
“But don’t let me fall asleep.” Raina glanced at the clock on the nightstand. She had time, but Zenab would be worried if she woke to an empty suite. She was on that old-lady schedule, early to bed and early to rise. And they had a big day ahead of them: breakfast, then off to Al-Mifadhir to meet the king. To meet her future husband.
Raina frowned and shook her head. She didn’t want to think of that, not here in David’s arms. Here in the dark, that life felt like someone else’s, something from a dream. Stella wouldn’t marry a stranger, wouldn’t sell herself off to pay her family’s debts. She’d cast her fate to the winds for fun, not because it might be her last chance.
“Something the matter?” David propped himself up on one elbow.
“No.” She pushed him back and straddled him. “I just wanted seconds. You game?”
He was, and then thirds, and it wasn’t till the first light of dawn that she kissed his sleeping forehead and crept back to reality. Whatever the morning brought, she’d always have her David. She’d always have tonight.
Zenab was still fluttering about their suite in her dressing gown when Raina finished getting ready. The older woman was in high spirits, exclaiming over everything from the view to the softness of the sheets.
“You should get dressed,” said Raina. “Breakfast’ll be here any second.”
“Hungry, are we?” Zenab laughed. “I was the same at your age. I’d eat anything that wasn’t nailed down. That’s your appetite for life, though. You need energy to do it all.” She reached for the room service menu. “What do you call those little cakes with the sesame and fennel? I’ll bet they’d have those here.”
“We ordered already, remember?” She took a step toward Zenab’s room. “Weren’t you going to try that new dress, the one with the beadwork at the cuffs?”
“Oh, don’t fuss. Just, here, let me—”
A knock at the door cut her off. Raina threw up her hands. “See? That’ll be our food.”
“All right, I’m going.” Zenab retreated, a little smile playing about her lips. “Leave me a crumb or two, will you?”
“Uh-huh...” Raina hurried to answer the door. They were running late already, what with Raina taking her time in the shower and Zenab having to check out every option on the room service menu. It would be a miracle if they made their flight.
“Morning,” she said, throwing the door open. “You can just put it...David?”
David blinked. A long moment ticked by, and he cleared his throat. “Is this suite 904?”
“Yeah?” She bit back a nervous giggle, and his mouth turned down.
“Don’t tell me you’re Raina.”
“I am. Who are you?”
“I’m Chadil Halabi. I’m looking for my aunt.”
Her heart plummeted to her toes. “You’re Zenab’s nephew? Not the one I’m meant to marry, though.” She bridled, indignant. “You’re not Italian.”
“I never said I was.”
“You spoke Italian. And you said you’re from the south.”
“Al-Mifadhir’s south of here.” He straightened up, composing himself. “And so’s my older brother. The one Aunt Zenab expects you to marry.”
“Bashar, right?” Raina stepped back, head spinning. She hadn’t known there were brothers. “And you’re Chadil? Do—do people call you Chad?”
“Not if they want to keep their heads.” He smiled, a little stiffly. “Are you going to let me in?”
Her head spun. Was she? After all that had happened, everything they’d done? Could she truly sit down with this man and discuss her marriage to his brother with his aunt looking on?
Chadil strode past her, and her heart began to race.
2
Chadil cleared his throat. He rarely felt uncomfortable, and when he did, he hid it well. But nothing could’ve prepared him for this, his aunt and his one-night stand regarding him from opposite ends of the table. Neither looked happy, though Raina was at least trying to smile. He folded his arms.
“So, I—”
“Why has Bas sent you?” Zenab took a wafer and broke it in half. “I don’t understand. Our flight lands this afternoon. I sent ahead to arrange a private dinner for the new couple.”
“That’s the thing.” Chadil glanced at Raina. He hated to do this in front of her, but she’d find out eventually. Better to get it over with. “Bas was married seven months ago. He has an infant son.”
Raina made a sound, perhaps suppressed laughter. Zenab dropped her wafer. “He what?” She shook her head. “Bas? A pregnant bride? I don’t believe that for a minute. Akeem would never allow it.”
“Akeem?” Chadil’s stomach soured at the mention of his father. He took Zenab’s hand gently, searching her eyes for a hint she was joking. “Father passed away more than a year ago. Don’t you remember the funeral?”
Zenab snatched her hand back. “Of course I do. It just doesn’t feel like a year already.” She wagged a finger at him. “Time is like sand at my age. It slips through your fingers before you know it. Last week, we played hide-and-seek in the gardens. Yesterday, I danced at his wedding. Today, he’s in his grave.”
“I’m sorry.” He lowered his head, abashed. “You’re tired from your travels. I shouldn’t have been so abrupt.”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
“I’ll mind my manners.” He tried a smile. “Would y
ou mind if I took a moment with Raina? I’d like to discuss her options.”
“What, and leave you without a chaperone?” Zenab gasped theatrically, but she stood up and smoothed her skirt. “All right. I’ll finish packing. Don’t be too long, though. I still want my breakfast.”
Chadil watched her go, troubled. This was quite the awkward situation she’d put them in, but he couldn’t blame her. She’d thought she was doing Bas a good turn, and he had to admit Raina was lovely, if not entirely committed to her betrothed.
“About last night—”
“You dreamed it,” said Raina. “And so did I. I was about to pledge myself to a stranger. I let myself picture another life.”
“Right.” His stomach churned, but Raina had a point. Last night had scandal written all over it, and Bas had brought enough of that to the throne. Best it remain a fantasy, Stella and David’s steamy tryst. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “My whole family does, bringing you here on a false promise. We tried to reach out to Zenab, but first she was ill, and by the time we got back to it, you were on your way.”
“I understand,” said Raina. Chadil studied her face, but her expression was unreadable—maybe relief, maybe worry. Her parents were struggling, he knew, maybe counting on her bride price. And they were from old Al-Mifadhir stock, in a position to raise a stink if they didn’t get it. This situation called for kid gloves.
“I don’t want to send you home without extending the hospitality of the royal family.” He leaned forward, all sincerity. “I’d like you to come to the palace. My sister’s about your age. I’m sure she’d love to show you around. It’s been some time since you’ve been back, hasn’t it?”
“Since I was five.” She seemed a little dazed, staring at a plate of pastries. “I barely remember it.”
“So much the better, then. It’ll be like you’re seeing it all for the first time.”
“I guess I could use a vacation,” she said. “In a palace, no less. Is it an actual palace, or like that hotel in Vegas?”
“An actual palace.” Chadil sipped his tea to hide his amusement. “The gardens are lovely. There are stables, an aviary—”
“You had me at ‘palace.’” Raina grinned, though the tension didn’t fade from her eyes. “All right. I’m in.”
“Wonderful,” said Chadil. Relief flooded through him. The first hurdle was cleared. All that remained was to convince her parents their honor hadn’t been tarnished, and he could put this whole mess behind him. Raina’s smile suggested she agreed, and that was for the best.
Forgetting her would be hard, but it was the only thing to do.
The trip from Rome might’ve been awkward, but Zenab kept up a steady stream of chatter, regaling Raina with stories of little Bas and Chadil and the twins, Edlyn and Danyal. Raina seemed genuinely amused, though Chadil found his attention wandering. Raina’s parents had once had a reputation for throwing their weight around, her mother in particular. They no longer held the same sway, but Bas couldn’t afford even the whisper of scandal, not with a newborn to worry about. One word in the wrong ear, and the press would have him building a harem, flying in American brides—
“Is this our welcoming committee?” Zenab leaned forward as they drove up to the palace gates. Chadil bit back a curse.
“I suppose you could call them that.” He ducked his head as a camera flashed. The paparazzi swarmed the car, angling in for the perfect shot. “What are they doing here?”
The driver’s voice crackled over the intercom. “The young prince is having his first outing today. They’re waiting for pictures.”
Chadil thought quickly. They’d spot Raina when she got out, maybe snap her through the gates. Speculation would run rampant. He tapped on the glass. “Have the guards move them back. We’ll say hello.”
“Yes, sir.”
He sent up a silent prayer as the guards cleared a space—that Zenab wouldn’t say anything untoward, that Raina’s accent wouldn’t invite ridicule. She looked jumpy, fidgeting with a loose button. What if she was a nervous talker?
“Let me do the talking,” he said. “They’re not here for us, anyway. We’ll be through in a flash.”
Raina nodded, but that glassy look was back in her eyes. She moved stiffly as he helped her from the car, turning this way and that as if she wasn’t sure where to look. Her jaw dropped as she caught sight of the palace, its gilded central dome afire with sunset.
“Holy sh—”
He nudged her discreetly, and she shut her mouth with a snap. A boom swung in low, narrowly missing her head, and he pulled her back from the crowd.
“I’m afraid it’s just us,” he said. “Young Graham’s still mediating the climate debate. These things do drag on...”
Zenab chuckled at that, but the press wasn’t so easily distracted.
“Who’s your companion?” Microphones arched toward them, penning Raina in. She squeaked but held her ground.
“Well, she’s—”
“She’s going to marry my nephew, of course.” Zenab’s voice rose above the hubbub, clear as a bell. Chadil froze, the smile curdling on his lips. Time slowed to a crawl as the questions poured in, and what could he say? His mind raced ahead, discarding a dozen excuses in the time it took Raina to gasp her surprise. There was just one way out, one loophole to wriggle through.
“Your Highness! When’s the wedding?”
Zenab opened her mouth, and time was up. He had to save face for all of them, including his aunt.
“We’re not engaged yet,” he said. “But I suppose the cat’s out of the bag. This is Raina Mousa, my intended. My dear aunt has brought us together, and she’s come to Al-Mifadhir to pursue a traditional courtship.”
A murmur ran through the crowd, one voice rising above the rest. “Why didn’t the king choose the traditional route for his own courtship?”
This was familiar ground, and Chadil’s smile turned fond. “My brother was fortunate. Fate delivered the love of his life to his doorstep. Some of us need a little help.”
Somebody hooted, and the crowd surged forward. Chadil held up his hand.
“That’s all for now. We’ve had a long trip, and the ladies need their rest. You’ll have our official announcement by day’s end.”
The questions kept coming, but Chadil moved to shield Raina from the cameras as he ushered her through the gates. Zenab followed along, chattering happily. Chadil loved her dearly, but he’d never wanted to muzzle anyone so badly in his life. What had she been thinking, playing matchmaker in the papers? They’d be trending on Twitter before the dust was off their shoes, headline news by dinner.
“Oh! Sarah!” Zenab scurried ahead, arms out to embrace her aide. “You’ll never believe it: Chadil’s in love. And with my pick, no less.”
“Is he?” Sarah kissed Zenab and put an arm around her with clear affection. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.”
“I wouldn’t mind an explanation myself,” said Raina. “What was that back there?”
“A mis—” Chadil bit his tongue. It had been a mistake, but not the kind he could correct with a carefully-crafted backpedal. This would take some finesse and Raina’s cooperation. “Aunt Zenab is a romantic,” he said instead. “Her heart’s been known to outpace her common sense.” He glanced at the reporters, still jamming their lenses through the gates. Raina looked, too, and shrank away, much as he’d hoped she would. He drew her toward the safety of the palace. “I know you’re tired, but do you think we could speak in private? Somewhere away from the press?”
“Yeah. That’d be good.”
“Come, then. I’ll show you my favorite place.” He took her by the arm in a way he hoped was reassuring and walked her up the steps. He’d take her to the aviary, a ten-minute walk if he dawdled. Plenty of time to soften her up for what came next.
3
Raina followed Chadil in a daze, lost in the new sights and smells. The air was fresh and pleasant, with a clean citrus tang, and she focused on her br
eathing as Chadil led her under soaring arches and mosaic ceilings, through a cool, shady cloister and into the garden. She’d thought the palace would be stuffy, some Downton Abbey funhouse, but for all its grace, it felt lived-in. A baby’s rattle sat forgotten on a table, a book facedown next to it, waiting for its reader. Someone had planted herbs in a line of window boxes. The rosemary looked like it had seen better days.
“Watch your step,” said Chadil. Sure enough, a sneaky half-step separated the patio from the garden—a trip-step, Dad would’ve called it.
“Thanks,” said Raina. Her feet crunched on gravel as she followed him away from the bustle of the palace, to a smaller, glass-roofed building. Chadil cracked the door just wide enough to sidle through.
“Squeeze in quickly.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
She scooted in after him, just in time to catch a fat little duck making a mad dash for the door, squeezing straight through a screen of hanging beads. “What’s this, his house?”
“It’s the aviary,” said Chadil, as if an aviary was a normal thing to have—your house, your garage, your bird palace. “There’s this bench, see—” He pulled back a curtain of wisteria to reveal a low bench. “Feels safe in here, like a fort when you’re a kid.”
“You built forts?” Raina chuckled. She could picture that, a tiny, serious Chadil defending his blanket encampment. She blinked the image away. It felt like a distraction. “So. We’re engaged?”
“Not engaged. Courting.” Chadil sat down heavily, massaging his temples. “That wasn’t the plan. I was backed into a corner, and I spoke without thought.”
Raina pursed her lips and said nothing. She wasn’t sure she believed him. She didn’t get the sense Chadil did much without thinking. His response had been too smooth, too effortless, like his David act in Rome.
