by The Prince
Cleo shook off her unhappy thoughts and turned her attention to her sister. Zara looked like a princess as she walked up the aisle, her father escorting her.
Everything about the moment was perfect, and no more than Zara deserved.
Kissing the bride was not a part of the Bahania ceremony, but Rafe did it, anyway. Cleo joined in the spontaneous applause as the couple clung to each other before turning and facing their happy guests. Bells rang, the vibrant sound echoing in the church.
The bride and groom started down the aisle. Cleo went next, expecting to link arms with Kardal, but he had shifted positions with Sadik, and she found herself close to the one man who could—despite everything—still take her breath away.
“You are radiance itself,” he murmured as they strolled down the aisle. He nodded at several guests. No doubt rulers of distant lands and personal friends of the family.
“Thank you.”
As they had on the way up, the crowd continued to overwhelm her. This was for real, she thought, stunned and amazed. Her foster sister, the same person she’d fought with about bathroom time and who had once tried to pierce her ears with a sewing needle was an honest-to-goodness princess married to a sheik.
Even more shattering she, Cleo, was walking down the aisle of an eight-hundred-year-old church, next to a prince who could trace his bloodline back a thousand years. Oh, and she was pregnant by him.
Her head spun when they stepped outside and she saw that thousands had gathered around the church. In a special area set up to the left of the church, several dozen television crews reported on the event for the international news. Still cameras flashed, taking pictures everywhere.
The horse-drawn carriages stood waiting. After Rafe and Zara moved off in theirs, Sadik helped her into the next one. Thank goodness Kardal and Sabrina sat with them. Cleo didn’t think she was capable of forming words let alone dealing with Sadik right now.
“You look shell-shocked,” Sabrina said kindly as their carriage started forward.
“I’m not surprised. This is a little overwhelming for me and I’ve been through it before.”
Cleo nodded, afraid that if she tried to speak she would either scream or cry.
Neither would be especially helpful.
They returned to the palace. Pictures were taken, then the royal family joined the reception already in progress.
The largest palace ballroom had been transformed into fairyland, Cleo thought, still dazed. Thousands of yards of beaded tulle decorated the walls and pillars.
Lights twinkled beside a cascading waterfall that hadn’t been there just a few days before. Buffets had been set up against three walls, and there seemed to be enough food to take care of several nations at once. A large orchestra played continuously. Champagne fountains flowed at both ends of the head table where Cleo found she had been seated next to Sadik. His doing, no doubt.
She managed to go through the motions, toasting her sister, offering best wishes, meeting people. Sadik stayed at her side for much of the afternoon. When Rafe and Zara disappeared to change for their honeymoon, he swept her into his arms and danced with her.
“I think they will enjoy their time away,” he said, speaking quietly into her ear.
“Yes. They will.” Her mouth felt numb. She knew she was talking, but she couldn’t feel her lips moving.
The king had arranged for the newlyweds to spend several weeks on his private yacht. They would cruise through the Mediterranean, then up the coast of Spain to France and England.
Her gaze swept over the room and something inside of her snapped. This wasn’t her world; she didn’t belong here. Nothing about the situation felt right.
But even as she prepared to run, she felt a fluttering sensation in her belly.
Her baby turned or kicked, or maybe just waved. It was enough to remind her that there was more at stake than her own desire to belong. If she left, she would have to abandon her child, and Cleo was willing to walk through hell before ever doing that.
Yet compromise seemed hopeless. How were she and Sadik supposed to come to terms? Obviously, she would have to live in Bahania, but how? She refused to be supported, assuming that was what he had in mind. Yet who was going to give the former mistress of a royal prince any kind of job?
Sadik watched the light fade from Cleo’s blue eyes. She had begun the morning bursting with happiness for her sister, but somehow over the past few hours it had slowly disappeared until she looked wounded.
He did not like to think of her so, and tried to shake off the image. Still, there was no energy in her speech, and she only picked at her food.
Rafe and Zara waved to their guests and ducked out the far door. Sadik took advantage of the distraction and quickly ushered Cleo toward a side exit that led to the private wing of the palace.
“Where are we going?” she demanded, showing spirit for the first time that afternoon.
“I think we have things to discuss.”
“Oh, sure. Now you want to talk. Isn’t that just like a man. Before, when I had things to say, you weren’t interested. You were all caught up in finding out about the baby. Well maybe I don’t want to talk to you.”
Sadik ignored her outburst, just as he ignored the way she tugged on his hand as if trying to escape.
“There is no point,” he said calmly, continuing to lead the way. “I have no plans to release you.”
“That’s my big fear.”
When they reached the double doors leading into his private quarters, he slowed to study her. Cleo stared at the doors as if they led to a prison.
He smiled. “I promise I will not have you tortured once you step inside.”
“It’s not the torture I’m afraid of.”
Was she remembering, as he was, what had happened the last time they had been in these rooms together? Passion had exploded between them until they’d had no choice but to give in. They’d made love endlessly, every chance they had, clinging to each other, touching, taking, offering. He’d never known such desire.
He opened the door, then stepped back to allow her to go first. Cleo entered cautiously, glancing around as if checking to see all was as she remembered.
“Nothing has changed,” he told her.
“If you’re talking about the furniture, I guess you’re right. If you mean everything else, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
She crossed the large living room to the French doors that led to the common balcony. From there it was a relatively short walk back to her own suite. But she didn’t try to escape. Instead she simply pressed her fingers against the glass.
“This is how birds must feel,” she said quietly. “They can see to the other side, but something invisible prevents them from flying away.”
He frowned. “Of what do you speak?”
She sighed. “Nothing. Everything. The wedding went very well.”
The change of topic confused him. “I’m sure Zara and Rafe will be very happy.”
She nodded but didn’t say more. Drawn by a certainty that something was very wrong, he crossed to stand behind her. “What troubles you?”
She shook her head. He saw a single tear slide down her cheek.
Had she defied him, he could have fought her on equal terms and been confident in his victory. But fragility baffled him—especially in Cleo. She was the most tempting woman he’d ever met, and while her beauty kept him enthralled, he found her willingness to fearlessly clash with him one of her most intriguing features.
“What pains you so?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I am an intelligent, successful man who knows much of the world. I am sure I could follow along.”
She looked at him. Tears glittered in her large, blue eyes. She swallowed. “All those months, you never tried to get in touch with me. I doubt you even thought of me. Then the second you found out I’m pregnant, you suddenly act as if you own me. I’m trapped like a bird in a cage. I can’t leave and take my child, and I
won’t abandon my baby. So here I am. No choices, no life, save that of being the vessel for your child. It’s not exactly the future I had envisioned for myself.”
He didn’t know which comment to address first, then went with the one he most understood.
“You left my bed.”
She stared at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I did not ask you to leave—you simply chose to go away.”
“We’ve been over this material before. Yes, I left before you asked me to. I’m sure you were heartbroken for a nanosecond. So what?”
“Why would I reward such inappropriate behavior by contacting you?”
“I am not your wayward teenager. You have no right to find my behavior wanting and then punish me for it.” She glared at him as if he were the most stupid man on earth. “Well?”
Sadik would not have admitted it, even under torture, but he didn’t know what to say to her. Of course he hadn’t gotten in touch with her. For one thing he’d known that she was returning for her sister’s wedding. For another, she had left him. No matter how much he explained the gravity of her disobedience, she refused to understand. He had wanted her in his bed. It was a great honor to be desired by him. He had lavished her with attention and had tried to do the same with gifts, and she had walked out. He resented her ability to simply turn her back on him.
Not that he’d missed her, he reminded himself, refusing to acknowledge the emptiness he’d felt when she disappeared from his life. He had barely thought of her at all.
“You are not a trapped bird,” he said, trying a different tack. “As the mother of my son, you will be revered.”
She rolled her eyes, then turned her attention back to the view of the ocean beyond the glass doors. “You’re impossible. I don’t know why I’m even bothering to have this conversation.”
Sadik would never get it, Cleo thought. And she couldn’t explain without confessing things she didn’t want to say. He’d made it more than clear that he resented her having the strength of will to leave him before he was ready to have her go, but he’d never admitted to even one tender feeling. If he’d said he liked her, that would help.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.
“That I want to go home.”
“This is your home now.”
That’s what she was afraid of.
She stared unseeingly at the ocean, wishing she could stow away on Zara’s honeymoon yacht, then make her escape in Spain. Although without money or a passport she wouldn’t get far. If she’d thought this through, she would have made alternative plans for her—
A warm, soft pressure on her bare shoulder caught her attention. Cleo’s breath stalled in her throat as Sadik bent lower and kissed her skin again. As her dress wasn’t loose enough for him to simply pull it off her shoulders, she had to guess that while she’d been deep in thought, he’d been unfastening her zipper. Geez—and she hadn’t even noticed!
He tilted his head and moved closer, nibbling on the side of her neck. Shivers made her break out in goose bumps while liquid desire poured through her.
Just for a second she promised herself as her eyes closed. She would only give in for a little bit and then she would pull away and tell him this was a mistake. After all, Sadik was four hundred kinds of wrong for her, and making love with him would only complicate the situation.
It’s not as if he can get you pregnant.
The small voice in her head made a lot of sense, she thought hazily as his hot breath caressed her. He kissed across the back of her neck—soft, teasing kisses that made it nearly impossible to stay standing. She and Sadik might come from different worlds and have completely different views of things, but they sure got along in bed.
Don’t think about that, she told herself. She had to stay in control. While it was true that she couldn’t get any more pregnant than she was, there were other ramifications if they made love. What about the state of her heart? Wasn’t she at risk? Isn’t that the reason she’d run home in the first place?
“You think too much,” Sadik complained as he turned her in his arms and pulled her close. “I can hear the chatter. Stop thinking. Only feel.”
Before she could work up an indignant reply, he kissed her mouth.
The sensation was both tempting and familiar. So familiar, she thought with a sigh. His strong arms encircled her body, allowing her the illusions of being both delicate and petite. He held her with a combination of passion and possession that should have annoyed her but only made her want him more.
He didn’t deepen their kiss. Not at first. Instead he teased her with light pressure and tiny nibbles. He sucked on her lower lip, then finally, when she couldn’t stand it anymore, brushed her tongue with his.
Fire shot through her. Against her will Cleo wrapped her arms around him. She
felt his strength, the broadness of his back. He was tall and every inch a male.
Already she was damp and swelling as her body prepared itself for him. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. She wanted him inside of her. She needed to make love with him with a desperation that left her both breathless and afraid.
When he broke the kiss, she moaned a protest. He laughed. “Come, my goddess. I will not make you wait long. But I think we would do better on my bed.”
He took her hand and led her toward the bedroom she remembered so well. It was large and filled with masculine oversize furniture. She remembered teasing him about the size of his bed and the dresser. He could have parties for large groups on the former. She’d been joking, but he’d taken her words seriously.
“No one could touch you,” he’d growled, claiming her with a kiss. She was his alone. His to desire, his to take, his to pleasure.
Cleo remembered how much she’d wanted the words to be true for more than an afternoon. But they hadn’t been. And nothing had changed.
Maybe this was a mistake.
She turned to the prince. “Sadik, I don’t think we should do this.”
“We must,” he said simply, and reached for the necklace clasp at the base of her neck.
When he’d removed her jewelry, he had her sit in a chair in the corner. Gently, nearly reverently, he removed her shoes. When her open-toed, high-heeled sandals hit the floor, she started to rise. Maybe to help him or maybe to run. She wasn’t sure. But she didn’t get the opportunity.
Sadik put a restraining hand on her arm. “Not yet.” Then he raised her dress to her thighs and bent down to kiss the inside of her knees.
Even as his lips pressed against her skin, he moved his hands up and down her legs. His long fingers touched every inch of her calves, before moving higher and stroking her thighs. As he caressed her and reduced her to a melting shell of desire, he spoke of his pleasure in her body.
“So rich and lush,” he murmured, licking the inside of her thigh and making her squirm. “Your scent intoxicates me, Cleo. So far I do not see any changes, but I know they are there. The thought of your body growing big with my son excites me.”
She was torn between wanting to be with him and knowing it was a big mistake.
What tipped the scale was the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be one of those men who found a pregnant woman as unsexy as a cow. Cleo had spent her entire life insecure about her short body and womanly curves. Somehow she’d never felt as if everything went together. Even though she’d had plenty of male attention, it hadn’t been the right kind. But Sadik’s words always seemed to hit her where she lived. She believed he genuinely adored every inch of her—pregnant or not.
He made her feel irresistible, and that combined with her need for him made him irresistible, as well.
He straightened and slipped off his jacket, then loosened his tie and his cuffs.
Without saying a word, he rose, then helped her to her feet. They crossed to the bed, where he finished unzipping her dress. The rose-colored garment fell to the floor.
Sadik gazed at her breasts, which had become enlarged in the past couple of months, then at her swelling belly. She’d felt unattractive and awkward right up until he smiled in delight and gathered her close.
He kissed her with a reverence that broke through her defenses and left her wanting and vulnerable. Her arms came up of their own accord. She clung to him, needing to feel him pressing against her. She knew that he was already aroused, but the feel of his hardness reassured her and fueled her body’s passion.
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose and her chin. He licked the hollow of her throat, then journeyed lower to the edge of her bra where he lightly teased the exposed curves.
Sadik had been right when he’d said she couldn’t possibly be with another man after being with him. As he touched her, she found herself remembering what it had been like when they’d been together before. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else, no matter how long she lived.
He reached behind her and unfastened her bra. As if he knew her breasts were tender, he cupped her curves as the bra slipped down. He gently rubbed his lips against her tight nipples, not pressing at all, just teasing until they grew more rigid and heat seemed to flare from every inch of her skin.
“So beautiful,” he breathed.
She thought about pointing out that the veins seemed more prominent than the last time he’d seen her chest and that her skin flushed more easily. She could have done twenty minutes on how she was ambivalent about her growing belly—both appreciating that she was carrying a healthy child and hating that she was getting fatter by the day.
But when he licked her right nipple, all rational thought fled. What did body image matter when one could be in the arms of a man who knew how to make her feel incredible?
He helped her onto the bed and settled next to her. Somewhere along the way he had discarded his shoes and socks, along with his dress shirt. As Cleo brushed her hand against his bare chest, he stroked her arms, then lightly traced the hollow between her breasts.
“I see many changes,” he said softly, and kissed her mouth. “You have grown even more beautiful. I can’t wait to see you big and round. You will leave grown men weeping with desire.”
