Sheikh's Scandalous Mistress

by Jessica Brooke

  “I can’t. You hurt people.”

  “Then I’m afraid I’m about to seriously hurt all of you,” he said.

  She closed her eyes and silently begged her unborn child to forgive her. There was no way she could take hush money or walk away when she knew people were suffering.

  I’m so sorry, baby.

  There was a loud bang, and she flinched, expecting the searing pain of lead in her gut.

  Except that wasn’t happening. Fearing she was already in shock and beyond the pain, she opened her eyes. She wasn’t struck.

  In fact, as she watched, an impossible sight filled her vision. Somehow (and God, maybe she was hallucinating), Amir was there, wrestling the gun from Senator Jackson’s grip. The older man reached back and tried to slug Amir, but her lover dodged the blow and smacked his fist hard into Jackson’s face, causing his head to whip back. Jackson’s grip on his weapon tightened and he broke away from Amir, cocking it again.

  She screamed, but Amir dove for the senator. The gun went off and blood sprayed from Amir’s left hand.

  “Jesus, Amir, be careful!”

  They were both on the floor now, rolling for the gun that had been spilled from Jackson’s hand when Amir tackled him. Both were getting at least a hand on it as Amir rolled over on top of Jackson. There was a shot then, one that seemed like thunder going off beside her ears, and both men froze. Fear flooded her as she was convinced that it must have struck Amir. She’d lost the father of her child and would soon be joining him at the end of a madman’s gun. Then, after what felt like forever, Amir rolled off of the senator and stood, straightened his shirt and tie as best he could with his right hand.

  The senator still lay, unmoving, on the ground. Blood gushed from his abdomen and it was clear he’d never be getting up again.

  “Amir, you came?”

  He nodded and came to her, gently untying her and then pulling out a cell phone and barking orders into it in Arabic. “My security team was fighting his. I’ve explained what happened and an ambulance will be on the way for all of us. Dear Allah, what did that monster do to you?” he asked, even as he reached out to stroke her face.

  Amir seemed to realize he’d been offering her his damaged palm before she took it in both of her hands delicately. Leaning down, she kissed his mostly clean wrist. Then she reached over and brought Amir’s good hand to her belly.

  “You saved me and…you saved our son.”

  Chapter Ten

  She’d never been a fan of hospitals. Her mother had been in one after her accident. She’d suffered for a few days in a coma before she’d been declared brain dead. The acrid stench of bleach, the droning buzz of the monitors, and the wheeze of the tubes all set Amanda’s teeth on edge. Yet, this time it was a good thing. She had some oxygen tubes in her nose, helping her get enough air after all the stress and fear of the last couple of days. Margery was doing better, too. She’d actually been discharged yesterday and had come by Amanda’s bed as soon as she could. She’d been lucky to have a concussion and nothing more serious that had kept her knocked out. Hell, Margery was even scheduled to visit Amanda again today. Since Amanda was pregnant, the doctors all felt it was safer for her and the baby to stay in the hospital a bit longer, for both observation and to help her blood pressure go down to normal levels.

  That was fine by her.

  She’d take anything to help her feel more normal when her life had just exploded. She’d almost been killed, almost lost both her child and the man she cared about. On top of that, now Amir knew everything. If she had a few extra days to spend in a revealing hospital gown and eating bland Jell-O, at least it gave her time to think.

  There was a knock on her door, and she called for the person on the other end to come in, assuming it was Margery coming back with another massive stuffed animal for the little buddy (Amanda hadn’t decided on a name yet). She wasn’t completely sure how to feel when it was Amir. Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw him. Even with his own bruises and his bandaged hand, he was as beautiful as ever. His eyes were like amber and his sharp cheekbones caused her belly to flare with warmth, leaving no doubt in her mind that she was still attracted to him.

  But she was also confused. How had he known? Had he been watching her all this time? And how would he feel about her now? Now that she’d almost gotten him killed with her investigation and had hidden their son from him for months. What could she possibly say to him?

  “Amir…” she started, and then trailed off. For once in her life she was at a loss for words.

  “I think I should start,” he said, slinking in with all his inherent lithe grace before settling himself in the chair by her bedside. “I had my security detail on you, but you must have figured that out by now.”

  “I did, and two days ago that would have made me angry. I’d have called it ‘chauvinist’ and ‘overbearing,’ but that’s the only thing that saved all our lives.”

  He nodded and put his hand on hers over her abdomen. At least via contact, they were unified for a minute as a family. He may want nothing to do with her after all of this, might wish for her to go away with the bastard child that he probably didn’t want. But for just this moment, they were the family she hoped they could be.

  “I knew you were pregnant because of the security team as well. Honestly, I assumed that you had a new boyfriend or lover. I didn’t dare to think it was mine.”

  “It is. I haven’t been with anyone since Abu Dhabi,” she said, her voice taking on a harder edge than she’d intended.

  “I didn’t imply that you were easy, more that I couldn’t believe something that amazing could happen to me.”

  She shook her head but didn’t move her hand. “But after everything you said about your family’s expectations and your sister. I know how hard it must have been for you to lose Farana because it still guts me every day that I don’t have a mother. Some holes never seal up. So how do I know that you really want us?”

  Amir’s eyes went wide. “How can you think I wouldn’t?”

  “You said—”

  “Forget what I said,” Amir interrupted, his amber eyes seeming to blaze with his fury and sincerity. “I just saw a madman try and murder the two people I love the most in the whole world. I got into the room and saw that gun leveled on you, and after you told me about the baby, I almost collapsed when I realized how much I could have lost.”

  “So you want us?”

  “If you want me, if you can forgive me for the way our affair got leaked and for following you.”

  “You saved my life, and I’m the one who took a freefall at work and went nuts doing things in public I’d never do, making choices I never should have made.” She paused as he seemed to still and look away. Amanda pressed her hand to her belly. “Don’t get confused. I don’t regret him at all, but I regret the way things escalated so fast and caused all that gossip about us. I regret that I hid things and made a mess of it all.”

  “But we all have a second chance. I’ve always been a fan of those,” he said, pulling his hand away and standing up. Amanda wanted to object. After all, the caress of his hand over their son felt better than anything she’d ever felt.

  Of course, then he was getting down on one knee before her.

  Her heart was pounding in her chest, and even their little buddy seemed up and awake, kicking against her stomach and swimming in circles.

  Is this really happening?

  He pulled out a large velvet box and started to speak. “Amanda, I know our relationship has been unconventional.”

  “You can say that again.”

  He winked at her but didn’t get up. “If you interject, then I can’t do this right, and it won’t be as romantic.”

  “So it’d be my fault?” she added, grinning back at him, relieved to be able to have any life left at all, let alone one where the man she loved—the father of her child—was proposing to her.

  “Maybe,” he said, his
amber eyes growing serious again. “I don’t care what anyone says about us. I don’t care how our family came to be. All I know is that I can’t live without you or our son. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” he punctuated the question by opening up the box, revealing a massive diamond in a platinum band. “It was my mother’s, and her mother’s before her. It’s been in my family for five generations. Would you take it?”

  “Yes!” she said, holding out her hand as Amir slipped on the ring. She marveled at how perfectly the ring fit her finger. It was as if Fate, itself, was giving its blessing.

  He stood up then and kissed her, his tongue tangling with her own. “I love you, Amanda.”

  “I love you too.”

  Epilogue

  “I don’t think I’ll ever like yellow,” Amir said, shaking his head at her.

  Amanda laughed as they exited the newly remodeled nursery. So much had changed in the two years since she’d almost died and said yes to the proposal of a lifetime. Since then, the full extent of Senator Jackson’s corruption had come to light, all of it helped along by a head of state testifying to Jackson’s crimes and providing his own team’s forensic profiles. All of Jackson’s legacy and prestige in the United States had been dismantled, and the current administration was vowing to do its best to help take apart the regimes he’d funded in Central America. Amanda had written a whole series on the scandal and had been rewarded not only a Pulitzer, but also an offer for her old job back and then some at the Sentinel. She’d been happy to accept the award, but much to Harris’s frustration and Margery’s sadness, Amanda had refused the job.

  Moving to Abu Dhabi had seemed like right choice. She’d been following in her mother’s footsteps, but now she wanted to be different and forge her own path and be there for her son and her growing daughter. Only a few months into her second pregnancy, she wasn’t even showing yet, but soon their family would be growing yet again. As long as she didn’t kill Amir over his terrible jokes about the little girl’s nursery.

  “Yellow is a perfect, sunny color,” she replied, as they passed Farana’s room.

  Their boy’s room was decorated in deep emerald walls and tons of posters of the Muppets. He’d fallen in love with Sesame Street. Their son was sixteen months old, and always toddling around, giving the nannies and his grandmother a heart attack as they all tried to keep him from getting into everything. Amir liked to joke that he took after Amanda—hardheaded with not enough common sense. But he was a firebrand of energy and she didn’t expect their daughter to be anything less.

  Both of them tiptoed quietly to the crib’s edge and leaned down one at a time to kiss his chubby cheeks.

  “Thank you,” Amir said, as they both gazed down at their angel.

  “For what?”

  “For everything.”

  “You know,” she said, winking at him, “there’s a great way to say thank you.”

  “I thought you’d never ask, sheikha.”

  They snuck back to their bedroom and shut the door. It was far from the nursery hall, but one never knew how much time they had with a toddler, and she prayed that no noises would come over the baby monitor.

  Amanda slipped her robe off and positioned herself on the bed, hoping she was giving her best come-hither look to her beloved. It seemed to be working because Amir had slipped out of his pajamas. As always, she would never get over what an amazing sight it was to behold. His eyes gleamed like amber, and his shoulders were broad and strong. His olive skin was taut over his abdomen, showing off abs that would always leave her mouthwatering.

  “I am so glad we can forego the condom,” he said, stalking over to the bed and crawling up over her with all the grace of a jungle cat.

  She laughed and patted her still flat belly. “I think that’s how we got two in the first place—we usually do.”

  “Then I’m caught. I need to feel myself inside of you, my love, enjoy your heat around me. There’s nothing better than that intensity. Nothing.”

  “Prove it,” she said.

  There were no more words between them. He was on top of her, his heft complete as he entered her. His manhood teased her entrance at first, tormenting her with just a feel of his girth and heat. But slowly, Amir eased himself into her, driving deep into her channel until he was pressed flush against her. She could feel the scrape of his beard against her neck, smell the hints of sandalwood and his own musk as they wafted into her nose.

  “Please, I need you!”

  He started to rock his hips, a slow and sensuous rhythm that sent heat flaring through her body, consuming her as it had the first time and every time since.

  Amir’s lips were on her neck, his teeth scraping and nibbling at the sensitive skin there. She bucked her hips, thrusting her own body up to meet his. She was grateful when his length seemed to hit her G-spot, sending more pleasure than she could imagine burning through her limbs. The fire was no longer just flickering flames, but a riotous explosion that was setting every nerve alight. His tempo increased and she felt every movement of his hips, every slam of his sweaty body against her own.

  Amir came first, his seed flooding into her as his length hit just the right spot, the right intensity, and she shattered apart, her climax overcoming her. The fire was now an explosion, like her body had gone supernova, become a shooting star of its own. Amanda screamed, her cries echoing out in their massive bedchamber, and she was glad that they were so far from everyone else.

  It was hard to be quiet when Amir left her feeling like that.

  She took a moment to catch her breath then rolled onto her back. Amir had one other thing he loved to do, a ritual between them. As she lay there, he rubbed at her shoulders, easing out all the knots of tension that the hustle and bustle of caring for a toddler caused.

  “I’m always going to care about you, protect you.”

  “I have no doubt you will,” she said, her voice a throaty purr.

  “You’re the light of my life, my sheikha.”

  “I feel the same way, my sheikh,” she echoed.

  Then he stopped rubbing her and leaned lower, letting his tongue stray over her shoulders, making soft flicks against her lower neck, against her collarbones. Amir kept licking her skin, tracing curlicues over her back. She moaned and burrowed deeper into the bed, letting the ecstasy wash over her. But now it was more about the sensuality of the act; it was about the trust. Here she was, naked and vulnerable in his grasp, and she had confidence that he’d be there to save her, as he did before at Jackson’s home.

  Finally, he resumed rubbing her back, his hands going low to get the tightness low on her body, right over her hips.

  “You’re carrying far too much tension. I need to make sure I increase our sessions to twice a day,” he said. Amir leaned lower and his whisper was sharp against her ears. “Maybe I’ll lock you up here and never let you leave.”

  “How nefarious of you, but the kids will riot.”

  “I think we can try and stave off any mutinies,” he said, even as his hands dug deeper into her muscles. More than that, she noticed that his erection was rigid again and pressing into her rear. “There are certain things I need,” he promised.

  “Oh,” she added, lifting her hips a bit to feel his length pressed against her. “I think there are things that I need too, and did anyone ever tell you that you’re insatiable?”

  “I’ve heard that,” he whispered, nibbling on her ear.

  Amir shocked her by grabbing her around the waist and rolling onto his back. She was above him now and his returned erection was even more obvious as it pressed into her belly. It was enough to leave her wet and wanting. Then again, she was always ready for him—ready and so glad for the life they shared that she almost lost through her own stubbornness and a corrupt senator’s hand.

  “You’re so quiet, my sheikha,” he said, his amber eyes boring into hers. “Is everything alright?”

  She kissed his lips, biting the botto
m one playfully between her teeth. “Everything’s perfect.”

  And it always would be.

  THE END

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  All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2015-2016 Sophia Lynn

  Chapter One

  The wind whipped against her face as her thighs tensed tightly around the great steed’s sides. As he always had, Tornado made the jump over the crossed logs—a clear three feet—without breaking a stride. She pitched forward a bit trying to keep her weight balanced over the leap. She’d been spending too much time sitting in the office these days and not nearly enough time riding. Getting rusty was something that a former barrel racing champion should never allow, and it was far from what Samantha Cutter wanted.

  But life, she’d found, wasn’t about what she wanted at all.

  It was about responsibility, about taking care of things her father couldn’t, and most of that included hopeless days trying to figure out the mess the books had fallen into lately. She’d only been back from college a couple of years, but her dad had turned the day-to-day office work over to her after a hip replacement.

  Now, she was confused about how everything had fallen apart.

  Cutter Farm was one of the top horse facilities in Lexington, Kentucky, and it was home to some of the best breeding stock in the country. These were racing lines and lineages who claimed their heritage far back, before the days of Man of War and Secretariat, although both of them were progenitors for most of the horses living now. They had horses who had won the derby in recent memory and Tornado’s father, Lightning, was worth close to a million dollars for his own racing record.