"I should imagine that it is the easiest thing in the world," she retorted. "I mean, as long as it is truly you. You can draw pleasure out of me as easily as I breathe..."
She gasped as he feathered breath over her shoulder, tugging down her tunic just enough to expose the sensitive skin there. She could feel where his kiss left her cold, and then how his hand came up to warm her after.
"No, not for me. Too many women...shall we say, hide their pleasure. They react too much to show me how responsive they are, or they keep their reaction from me because it would embarrass them to show off how much they want a thing. Simply letting me see your pleasure...that is wondrous and rare indeed."
She gave up on trying to argue with him because he had found a particularly sensitive spot on her ear. She was just closing her eyes to let him touch her like that, so gently and so sweetly, but then he pulled away a few inches.
"Look up into the sky," he murmured. "I actually did bring you out for a reason.”
"In all fairness, you are not making this easier for me," Bedelia complained, and he chuckled.
"Consider it a challenge," he said heartlessly. "Look up, little one. You'll see your reward soon enough."
With a soft sigh, she opened her eyes to look up into the deep velvet night. There was something perfect and wonderful about seeing something that had been the same for thousands of years, knowing that more or less she was seeing what had been seen so long ago. She knew she would be able to focus so much easier and so much more effectively if he would take his mouth away from her neck, but she couldn't stand for him to stop that either...
With an abrupt cry, Bedelia suddenly sat up, pointing into the sky.
"There!" she cried out, but the streak of light was gone.
"What did you see?" Jahin asked with a slight grin, and she smiled at him.
"A bright streak of light, brighter than stars, brighter than anything, falling to earth," she said excitedly. "That was amazing! I have never seen a shooting star before!"
Jahin laughed at her enthusiasm. "Even if you had, you would never have seen it the way you saw it tonight. Where we are, we are high above sea level in a place that is mostly untouched by air pollution. The stars here in this region of Muneazil are among the clearest and brightest in the world."
"It was very beautiful," she said, impressed and awed that Jahin had shared such a thing with her, and then he pointed up again.
She was shocked into silence when she saw another two stars falling, and then one more, and three after that.
She was too stunned even to yell when the stars kept falling, peppering the sky with streaks of golden light. She was too afraid to look at Jahin for fear that she would miss something, but she reached out blindly for his hand as they both lay back on the blankets. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed hers back immediately. In that moment, they didn't need words, not even a little. It didn't matter who had more money or who wanted this relationship to be a short term thing with no emotional strings. What was important was that they held each other's hands as they stared up into the sky.
Finally, the falling stars seemed to slow, and with a single star falling and none others following, Bedelia heaved a sigh.
"That was amazing," she breathed, and as she turned towards him, Jahin cupped her face in his hand and turned her for a kiss. She wondered if somewhere in the back of her head, she should have been insulted. This was the textbook example of what their time together was meant to be like. Experiences for her, her body for him, and yet somehow, despite everything that should have told her that such a deal was demeaning to say the least, she couldn't find it in her heart to care. Not when the man she wanted like she wanted the air and the stars above was kissing her, not when she snuggled next to his big warm body to fend off the cold.
"Perhaps next time when we come out here, we will bring a tent," he said, helping her to her feet. "I have never been a great one for camping, but I have an idea that I can cobble together a campsite for one night. We could watch the stars, listen to the quiet, use that quiet to do whatever it is we want..."
He gave her a look that made the color fly up to her cheeks again, and he laughed, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"Far too easy, Miss Prim, " he teased. "I'll have to dial things back by quite a lot if you are going to be shy and nervous about everything..."
Bedelia wanted to challenge him, but she quickly realized that any words she might have to say were going to be far weaker than anything she could do.
With no warning at all, she hopped up to throw her arms around Jahin's neck, dragging him down for a deep kiss. He was surprised, but only for a moment. Then he wrapped his arms around her and started kissing her in return, his hands roving her body sensuously as he ravaged her mouth.
By the time he pulled back, he was looking at her in awe, and she was grinning at him.
"You are a menace," he told her softly. "You make me want to bend you over and see to you in a way that would leave you shouting your joy up to the stars..."
"Promises, promises," she teased him. "I happen to know for a fact that it is frigid out here, and that you are not going to do a single thing to me until we get back to the house near the stables."
Jahin raised an eyebrow at her.
"Well, you might be right about that," he conceded, "but remember, little American beauty, it is a rather short ride back, and I will certainly remember everything that you say to me."
"Oh good," she sighed, and after a stunned moment, Jahin laughed out loud, dragging her into his arms.
"Heaven only knows how a woman like you was created," Jahin said with admiration.
Chapter Ten
It was perfect. It was nearly perfect.
The days passed, and though she did not see Jahin every single day, she saw him far more than she had any other person in the last few years.
Sometimes, business took him into the parliament house in the capital, and sometimes it took him into the elegant and impressive rooms in Dubai where deals were struck and allies made. Sometimes, he came back to the penthouse that became their base of operations in the capital of the province, and he would be grim and tired.
At first, Bedelia thought that more than anything else, he would want to be left alone when he was in that state. But soon enough, she realized she could soothe him, bring him out with gentle words and smiles until the care was erased from his brow.
There were plenty of days, however, where they were able to simply be with one another. He fulfilled his promise and took her to the beautiful and hidden spots of Muneazil, places where she would never have been allowed, places that she didn't even know existed. He took her to those places, he told her about them, and more often than not, he took her into his arms in a quiet corner and kissed her there.
"It's like you're giving me a kissing tour of Muneazil's most beautiful spots," she teased one night as they walked back to the car after exploring a gorgeous and ancient salt cave.
"No," he said, suddenly looking hard towards something to his right. "I am showing you to the history of my country."
"What?"
Of course, that was when he was saved by the bell. His phone went off, and there was something desperately urgent that he needed to attend to on the other line.
As he took care of it, however, Bedelia thought about his words. Why in the world would he want to show her off to the beautiful and sacred places of his people? What could it have meant?
She thought as they walked, but then when he got off the phone, there was another excursion to discuss, another event to consider, and she more or less forgot about the strange comment.
Perhaps of more pressing concern was the fact that he wanted to spend money on her. Not long after their excursion to the royal stables, he noticed how small her suitcase was.
"Is that truly all you have with you?" he asked, his voice so fascinated that she laughed.
"It's almost all I have in the world," she admitted. "I got rid of a lo
t of stuff before I moved. This is the bulk of what was left. I figured that whenever I got back stateside, I would start to rebuild my wardrobe."
"Well, that will hardly do," he said. "I am sending for a personal shopper to get you some clothing."
She started to protest, but he sent her a quelling look.
"This is not a place where you can argue with me," he said firmly. "Next week, I am hoping to take you to one of the ancient mosques. That means that you must be dressed respectfully and decently."
"All right," she relented, "but seriously, just make it a few pieces, all right? I don't like to be in anyone's debt."
She had thought that the conversation was over, but then he took her into his arms, making her look up into those gorgeous copper eyes.
"This isn't a matter of being in anyone's debt," he said gently. "Tell me, do you like having nice things?"
She frowned at him, because what kind of question was that?
"Sure, I do," she said cautiously.
"And I like buying nice things for you," he said firmly. “We are not negotiating here, not really. We are simply giving each other...what we want. That is all. Nothing more."
Well, it was only a few pieces of clothing, she decided, nothing to get too worried about.
Of course, she was very, very wrong.
The shopper came in with racks and racks of clothes, and some of those clothes were just for finding which things would fit her well. Then there were discussions of events and materials and fiber and wear, and by the end, Bedelia was so stunned that she had no idea what in the world she was signing up for.
"I...I don't know what you need to know," she said finally, and her personal shopper winked.
"You should leave it all up to me, my dear," she said. "After all, this is not going on your tab..."
Before Bedelia could wonder if that was some kind of strange dig or insult, the woman was off again, and Bedelia found out somewhat helplessly that she was someone who looked very good in warm colors.
"And of course, you always tend to look best in the colors that draw you in..."
"Copper," Bedelia said immediately. "Something really rich and bright."
While the woman was cooing over her good choice, Bedelia thought of Jahin's eyes. She felt a touch of defiance. If he was going to dress her, she might as well wear his colors like some lady in a goddamn ballad.
He noticed her choice right away when she went to dinner in a copper dress that fell in beautiful silken folds to her calves. The shoes matched the belt, which matched the copper ornaments in her hair, and she found herself looking up at him with a slightly arrogant tilt to her chin.
"Well?" she asked daringly, and he grinned.
"Why, you look quite beautiful, my lady..."
He told her she looked beautiful frequently, but he also showed her how beautiful he thought she was. His touch in the night, his kisses, the nearly worshipful way he brought her to climax after climax...she could never doubt his attraction. Somehow, it began to quiet the voice in her head that shouted at her that this was all temporary and that it would all go away sooner than she would believe, and perhaps that was when she started to get into trouble.
They were in the capital, and he was off doing the work he did with the government, administering to his country. They’d had a late night the evening before, and he was going to be late getting home. Left to her own devices, she went prowling through the city streets.
Miller was getting antsy, and she knew precisely why. Before she had met Jahin, she’d put everything into the reports. Sometimes, he demanded such avid research and such a large amount of writing from her that she guessed he intended to use her work whole cloth afterward.
Lately, however, she had been leaving things out. She always did a fairly decent report of the places that people could go to, telling him about the layout, the people, the number of administrative personnel that were wandering around the place. However, when the spots became more personal, when Jahin took her to houses that his family owned or to a goat ranch on the border of the country in the mountains, she couldn't bring herself to give Miller the deep and intimate details that she knew he craved. It had all become much too personal, much too close to her. This was something that belonged to her and Jahin, and when Jahin forgot about her to look for the woman who would rule beside him, they would belong to her alone. There was something in her that refused to share it with Miller and with his readers, and she could tell from his increasingly short and irritated emails, he was noticing.
That night, as she walked along the bright streets of the ultra-modern capital, she was thinking of nothing more complicated than Miller's last email before a newspaper caught her eye.
There were still plenty of older people in the capital who would have a newspaper with their tea or coffee, and this small box was such a one. With trembling hands, she slotted in some coins to make the box buzz and open, and she was able to remove a newspaper from within. She felt as if she was handling something foul or dangerous, and she tucked herself into a nearby cafe before she started to read.
Her ability to read Arabic was indifferent, but with the help of her phone, she figured out that her suspicions were confirmed.
SHEIKH DISCOVERED COURTING DUBAI ROYAL, WEDDING BELLS IN THE FUTURE?
It was all too easy to remember the trip that she and Jahin had taken to Dubai just a week ago. He had been so busy there for awhile. They had only had a few days to see what they wanted to see. The rest of the time, he was out with the trade delegation, greasing palms and making sure the interests of Muneazil were represented. There were nights when he had stumbled in late, too tired for words, and she had simply cuddled up with him in bed.
Apparently one of the things that had tired him out was someone by the name of Princess Layla Marid, a tall and willowy beauty with eyes as dark as black honey and whose hair curled down almost to her hips in the picture that was presented.
The article said very little, but it hinted at a lot. The two had been friends since childhood, and they had spent a great deal of time at the trade summit talking with one another, chatting, laughing, and passing the time as old friends, and perhaps more. The article said they were always noted for their closely related goals, and wondered if there was a hint of royal romance in the air. If there was, the article implied, it would be perhaps the best royal match to be seen in the past few decades...
Bedelia let the newspaper drop out of her cold hands, and she stumbled back into the street. Everything before had looked brightly gorgeous, full of life and sound, and now it felt as if a pane of glass had dropped down between her and the rest of it. The world had turned surprisingly dull, and the sound was all far away. She didn't realize that her steps had taken her to the penthouse before she was in front of it, and numbly she went up the elevator to find that Jahin had come home unexpectedly early and was waiting for her.
"Hello beautiful," he said, dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I am glad I caught you. If we move quickly, we have some time to get some lunch in, and..."
He stopped for a moment, looking at her closely. "Is there anything wrong?
There was a choice in front of her. For a moment, all she wanted to do was ignore the newspaper and cling to whatever fun and excitement that she and Jahin might have left. She also wanted to pointedly ignore him, to be cold and distant until he begged her to tell him what was wrong, to reduce him to groveling.
At the end of it, however, both choices sounded terrible to her. She had entered into this strange arrangement with honesty and integrity, and she would be damned if she let it go now.
"Who is Princess Layla Marid?" she asked, her voice hollow, and he tilted his head, looking at her in confusion.
"Layla? An old friend of mine. She and I attended Oxford together..."
"That's not the answer that I want," she said heatedly, and Jahin looked at her with surprise, a dark frown hovering on his face.
"And pray tell, what kind of answer do you wan
t?" Under the reasonable tone of his voice, she heard something else there, something dark and almost dangerous. A part of her, a primal and female part, told her to tread carefully, but she surged on, heedless.
"I want the truth," she said, her voice tightly controlled. "I want to know all about your...your romance, and what it means for your emirate and about how you have known each other since you were children, and..."
She meant to keep going, but her voice broke in the middle of it. Suddenly, Bedelia felt utterly drained, even a little dizzy, and she sat down suddenly on the couch. For a moment, Jahin stood in front of her, and all she could see were his legs, but then he came to sit down next to her.
They were silent for almost a full minute. She could feel that his breath was synced to hers, and they simply breathed in time with one another. It felt almost like an undeserved closeness, something fragile and precious that was slipping through her fingers.
Then, just when she was certain that the next few words out of Jahin's mouth were going to be to tell her to pack her bags, he pulled her quietly into his arms.
"You're going to tell me what this is all about right now," he said softly. There was a gentleness to his voice that she had never heard before, but there was also something dire in it, something that wanted answers and wanted them right away.
"There was a newspaper article." Her voice was soft, but it was strong. If he thought he was going to get some kind of capitulation out of her, if he thought she was going crumble into tears, he was sadly mistaken.
"A newspaper article?"
"Yes. One with a picture of you and the princess looking very...very loving. When I read it, it had plenty to say about how you two have always had feelings for each other, and how wonderful an alliance between your houses would be, how you would benefit. It even talked about how you have always carried torches for each other, and now you could finally fulfill that."
Jahin's arms tightened around her. He rested his chin on the top of her head and was silent for a long moment.
Sheikh's Virgin Love-Slave Page 18
