Taken by the Sheikh

by Mel Teshco

  “I don’t think I can move.” There was an edge of panic in her whisper.

  He dragged his hand from her hair and along her face and throat. He ached for release. It was all-consuming and with grim determination he clung to the remnants of his control.

  He clasped her thigh. Smooth skin and silk and lace teased his fingers. She tentatively hooked her ankles around his legs and before he could stop he buried his length inside her.

  She felt so fucking good. He would never tell her something so coarse. But gallant words were beyond him. All he could do was feel.

  “Andre.” Her breathy whisper stoked the fire. He rocked into her again and her lips parted in wanton invitation. His pledge to take his time vaporized as he drank in the sight of his virginal bride who now writhed beneath him.

  Pressure built, obliterating everything but the need for completion. Her silken heat clasped him tight as he thrust into her, pinning her to the bed and claiming every inch of her. He slid his hand between their slick bodies and brushed his finger over her swollen clit. She convulsed around him, her grip so insanely tight the world receded and his orgasm damn near shattered his soul.

  Chapter Seven

  Khalid looked at his sleeping bride next to him and supreme satisfaction rolled through him. As far as he was concerned, last night had been their wedding night. Their marriage was consummated. All that remained was the official ceremony to unite them in the eyes of the world.

  And, as he had guessed, she had been untouched. No matter how she had run from her destiny, she had still waited for him. Of course her purity was part of the marriage contract, but these things could never be guaranteed. And when once he might have considered a breach in that clause as reason to terminate the contract, he’d changed his mind the moment he had met her.

  She was the only woman he wanted for his wife.

  Sanura sighed softly and his gaze fixed on her parted lips. His cock thickened against his thigh and he gently brushed errant strands of hair from her cheek.

  She didn’t stir. He had thoroughly exhausted her.

  With damning reluctance he reined in his desire. He had taken her twice more during the night, despite her inexperience. But she had been as eager as he, and assured him she wasn’t sore from the loss of her virginity.

  He’d believed her because he wanted to believe her. But now, as he drank in the enchanting vision of his princess, a prickle of guilt pierced him.

  Sanura was an innocent. And he was by no means a small man. He should have controlled his lust during the night but her soft, desirable body had been too much of a temptation to resist.

  He would resist her now. This morning she had to face her responsibilities, and he had the perfect plan in mind.

  *

  Sanura stretched as dreams gave way to reality, and luxurious feathery softness enfolded her. Eyes still closed she smiled at the pleasurable ache that claimed every particle of her body.

  Andre had been everything and so much more than she had imagined. She might not have had any lover before him, but she’d read plenty of romances. And he measured up.

  In every way.

  For a few more indolent moments she bathed in the afterglow that infused every cell of her body. A comforting silence cocooned her.

  Silence.

  She forced open one eye. The bed was empty. She opened her other eye and ran her hand over the huge expanse of emptiness.

  The sheets were cold. How long ago had Andre left the bed?

  Her languid sense of peace fractured and she sat up, clutching the covers to her breasts. Where was he?

  She barely noticed the opulent furnishings of the enormous room, or the magnificent draperies that hung from the intricately embroidered tester above her head. Light filtered between the gap in the heavy drapes at the floor to ceiling windows.

  It was morning. Her fairytale night was over. But what was she supposed to do now? Leave without saying goodbye to him? Was that what he expected?

  Pain lanced through her heart. She was a fool to care that he had loved her and left her. She’d known all along that would happen.

  Except deep inside she’d harbored the ridiculous hope that Andre would think this was more than a one-night stand. Even though she knew it couldn’t be. He was connected to Khalid Salah al Din. How could she have more than a fleeting liaison with a friend of the man who so terrified May?

  But that was her head. Her heart was a different matter. Because she wished, desperately, there was some way she and Andre could have a future together.

  Her shoulders slumped and she looked around the room for her clothes. She still wore her stockings but her bra had vanished at some point during the night. And her clothes were nowhere to be seen.

  The door opened and her heart knocked against her ribs. Would Andre expect her to be ready and waiting to leave? Self-consciously she tugged the sheet up to her neck as he strolled into the room, pushing a laden three-tiered restaurant trolley.

  She blinked and her heart slowed a notch. If he was bringing them breakfast then surely he didn’t expect her to leave right away?

  It was pathetic how excited that thought made her, but there was no point denying it. She’d hang onto this fairytale for as long as she possibly could.

  “Good morning.” His warm smile melted her heart and she dragged her fingers through her tangled hair. If only she’d had time to make herself look presentable. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  He lowered a tray over her knees before lounging on the bed beside her. A single white rosebud in a long stemmed crystal vase held pride of place on the center of the tray. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out the symbolism. She wasn’t sure whether she was touched by his romantic gesture or wanted to hide under the sheet. One thing was for sure. His sense of gallantry had to be a result of his French blood.

  She stole a sideways glance at him. He was wearing a long white robe and his hair looked damp. He also smelled completely edible.

  Just how long had she slept on, after he had left the bed?

  “Thank you.” She tucked the sheet under her arms and didn’t miss the amused look on his face. She hoped he wouldn’t remark on her attack of modesty. It was one thing to make wild passionate love in the dead of night and quite another to sit up in bed and attempt to eat breakfast stark naked.

  She focused on the trolley, since she could feel heat flooding her face and didn’t want Andre to see her blushing. Again. It was becoming a habit but she had no idea how to stop it.

  Cut glass dishes of fresh fruits adorned the top tier, along with a selection of yoghurts, cheeses and croissants. There were tiny pots of jams and marmalade, warm crusty bread and various cereals. Her mouth watered at the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee as he poured them both a cup from the elegant pot. He lifted a lid from one of the covered dishes from the middle tier, and wafer thin slices of smoked salmon greeted her.

  “I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered everything.” He lifted another lid to show her the succulent hams. It was truly a spread fit for a king.

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him she wasn’t hungry.

  “It’s lovely, Andre.” She took a sip of aromatic coffee. It did nothing for the butterflies cascading in her stomach. She and Andre might have spent most of the night making love, and there was no denying she was tender between her thighs, but all she could think about was wrapping herself around him once again.

  He reclined against the pillows and looked thoroughly pleased with himself. She knew he had likely done this kind of thing a hundred times before, but she shoved the thought aside.

  It was all part of the fairytale. Something she would cherish for the rest of her life.

  “You’re not eating.” He ran a finger along her naked back until he reached the swell of her bottom. She shivered and pressed her arms against her sides so the sheet remained firmly in place. “What can I tempt you with? Some strawberries, perhaps?”

  She had to make the most of ever
y moment. But if it came down to a choice of eating succulent fruit or feasting on Andre, there was really no choice at all.

  She placed her dainty cup back on the tray and eyed the rosebud. She’d have to remember to take that with her when she left. With a deep breath for courage she turned to face him. How hard could it be to tell him what she wanted? After all, they’d already had sex. Three times. It wasn’t as though she was asking for something outrageous.

  “I’d rather have you for breakfast.”

  She knew she was blushing again, but it didn’t matter when she saw the way Andre’s eyes darkened with need. But instead of pulling the tray off her and seducing her senseless he leaned toward her and kissed her lips.

  “There’s nothing I’d like better.” His husky words sent quivers of need through her. “But we have plenty of time. I have no intention of allowing you to slip through my fingers now we’ve found each other, my princess.”

  She knew she was smiling at him in a completely besotted way, but he didn’t seem to mind. Of course this was all part of his seduction technique. It couldn’t be anything else. As long as she remembered that, she could enjoy this for exactly what it was.

  That didn’t mean she was going to let him imagine she was blindly falling for his glorious Gallic charm though.

  “We live in different worlds, Andre.” She gave him what she hoped was a knowing smile, but had the feeling it probably looked simply infatuated.

  He trailed a finger along the line of her face. It was strangely possessive and entirely captivating. “Our worlds are more similar that you imagine.”

  Her mother might have been descended from royalty but any wealth or status associated with her lineage had died long before Sanura was born. For a moment she wondered why Andre called her princess. It was an unusual term of endearment, but perhaps it had something to do with him being French. It couldn’t have anything to do with him guessing about her forebears.

  “If only that were true.” But even if she wasn’t a struggling artist and had no student debt hanging over her head, she’d still be light years away from enjoying the kind of lifestyle Andre had.

  “Forget about the outside world. Would you stay with me if neither of us had commitments or duty we needed to fulfill?”

  What a strange thing to ask. But as she considered his question she realized how apt it was. Because if not for May, Sanura knew she’d have no hesitation in staying with Andre for as long as he wanted.

  “Yes.” What did it matter if she admitted the truth? It wouldn’t change what had to be.

  “Then stay with me, sweet Sanura.” His voice was persuasive and his French accent made his request sound daringly within reach. “I will give you everything your heart desires.”

  His lavish promises enchanted her. Was it possible he really meant everything he said? That he wasn’t spinning her lines he’d used countless times in the past to get what he wanted?

  After all, he’d already had her. It wasn’t as though she was holding out on him.

  If she swore in her heart to never speak of May to Andre, would she really be betraying her friend if she continued to see him?

  “It’s not that I don’t want to stay with you.” She gripped her fingers together on her lap. “It’s just that things are… complicated.”

  She hoped he wouldn’t press the point. Surely he knew why things were complicated. If he could just tell her that he would never ask her about May then maybe this knot of guilt inside her chest would ease.

  Because God help her. She was so close to throwing all her principles to the four winds and agreeing with every word he said.

  His strong, tanned hand covered hers. His warmth seeped into her and electrifying tingles raced through her blood. Did she affect him in the same way? It was hard to believe she could, but the gleam in his eyes suggested the intensity was mutual.

  “I know things are complicated. But they don’t have to be.”

  “Are you sure?” She searched his face for a sign that he would never use her friendship with May to his advantage, but of course it was impossible to tell such a thing. “Because there are things… I mean, one thing that I can’t—”

  He raised her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. It effectively dried every word in her throat. He smiled as though he knew exactly the affect he had on her. Then again, he would need to be dead not to know that.

  “I give you my solemn vow that I will never repeat or condemn you for anything you said—or didn’t say—to me yesterday.”

  Well, that was a funny way of putting it. She didn’t think he had any right to condemn her for not telling him where May was. But maybe it was just a case of the meaning being twisted in translation. The important thing was Andre appeared perfectly fine with them never mentioning May between them. And if that was the case surely she could follow her heart?

  Yes. Yes she could.

  “Then I’d love to see you again.”

  Triumph glittered in his eyes, but it was gone instantly as he leaned in and pressed his lips against her throat. She closed her eyes as he hooked a finger into the sheet across her breasts and slowly tugged it down.

  “I’m not talking about seeing me again.” The sheet slithered to her waist and she shivered, but not because she was cold. His tongue circled her nipple and she arched into him, barely comprehending his words. “I’m talking about making our relationship official.”

  She reeled back, and only Andre’s lightning quick reflexes stopped the bud vase from toppling off the tray and over the bed.

  “Official?” Her scrambled thoughts tried to make sense of his words. But all that pounded through her mind was Andre was asking her to get engaged. But surely not. She had to be mistaken. Just because she had fallen hopelessly in love with him didn’t—couldn’t—mean he felt the same way about her.

  His smile as he placed the vase on the trolley was a thing of pure sensual enticement. She had the scary certainty that if he asked her to accompany him into hell she’d agree with barely a second thought.

  “Yes, sweet Sanura. I’m asking you to do me the great honor of becoming my wife.”

  His wife. The most beautiful man she had ever met, the man who had stolen her heart between one breath and the next, wanted to marry her.

  It was crazy. Unbelievable. This had to be a dream.

  But it wasn’t. This was real. And it was everything she had ever imagined love could be.

  She knew next to nothing about him. But they could get to know each other during their engagement. There was no doubt in her mind or her heart. She smiled back at him, no longer caring of the heat suffusing her cheeks.

  “I would love to marry you, Andre.”

  Chapter Eight

  Triumph seared through Khalid’s chest at Sanura’s acceptance. She had given her word, and while she might have run from her father’s edict, he knew she would honor her own freely given promise.

  Why wouldn’t she? He had shown her the man he was. The respect and devotion she would receive from him as his wife. There was no reason for her to run from her destiny now.

  He turned and picked up a velvet box from the bottom tier of the trolley. It contained the official engagement ring that had been selected for his future bride twenty years ago, on the occasion of their formal betrothal. It was a Salah al Din heirloom, a priceless work of art, and had been worn by many brides in the past.

  Sanura stared at the box as though she couldn’t believe her eyes. He opened the lid. The massive ruby glinted in the morning sun. As soon as they returned to Omana he would give her the matching necklace and bracelet. The rubies would look magnificent on her.

  “It’s beautiful.” She didn’t sound too sure, and she continued to stare at the jewel as though it was a snake poised to strike. He plucked the ring from its bed of velvet and lifted Sanura’s hand.

  “With your acceptance of my ring you belong to me irrevocably.” He slid the ring on her finger. It was a little large but that was of no conseq
uence. It would be altered to fit her perfectly as soon as they returned to Omana.

  She curled her fingers into a fist and examined the ring with a bemused frown. He smothered a smile. He had never imagined he would enjoy this moment when he officially claimed his royal wife-to-be, but it had turned into one of the most enchanting moments of his life.

  “Well.” She looked up at him. “I don’t know about belonging to you, Andre, but…” Her words tailed off as she once again gave his ring another uncertain glance.

  He liked the way she called him Andre. He wanted her to continue to call him that when they were alone together, but it was time she faced the truth. He was sure that, in her heart, she already knew the truth but the words needed to be said aloud.

  “You know who I truly am, don’t you?” When she didn’t appear to immediately grasp his meaning he pressed her clenched hand over his heart. “I am Khalid, your betrothed.”

  For a heartbeat he thought she hadn’t understood. And then her eyes widened in what could only be utter horror and the blood drained from her face. She looked stricken, in a way she hadn’t yesterday when she’d opened the door to him, and something twisted deep inside his chest.

  Why was she still so afraid of a future with him?

  “No.” Her denial was little more than a whisper and she tried to pull her hand free. He gripped her tighter. He would not release her hand, and he would not release her from her promise.

  But he couldn’t bear the look of anguish on her ashen face.

  “Sanura… Maysarah.” God, what should he call her to put her at her ease? But the way she flinched when he called her Maysarah gave him all the answer he needed. “You—”

  “I’m not Maysarah.” Her voice was unnaturally harsh, and this time she managed to snatch her hand free. She pulled the sheet up to her chin and looked at him as though the world was crumbling around her shoulders. “I’m Sanura Jones. May is my best friend.”

  The blood thudded against Khalid’s temples. He heard Sanura’s denials. He did not—could not—believe them.