For the Sheik's Pleasure (Sheiks in Love Book 2)

by Mary Jo Springer

  Strapless, with a heart-shaped neckline and a tremendous full skirt, the dress took up the entire floor. Laughter bubbled up inside her, and she turned again, showing the women every angle of the dress. When she glanced over her shoulder, she peered straight into the wide eyes of Diyari and the king. She froze in mid-motion, her laughter dying in her throat.

  “Excuse us, ladies, for interrupting your pleasure.” The king, an older, refined, exact image of Diyari, reminded her of the men from the historical romances she’d been reading since high school. Proud. Aristocratic. Everything you pictured when you imaged a king of a foreign country. Diyari possessed the same eyes, and the same mouth, and in his younger days, the king would have rivaled Diyari’s build as well.

  The king’s eyes locked on her. “Miss Danvers, Nina assures me you two are making great progress with the wedding plans.”

  She bowed her head in reverence, “Yes, Your Majesty, as you can see for yourself, we’re picking out dresses today.”

  The flame sparking from Diyari’s eyes bore into her. No matter where she moved, his eyes followed, his glance sweltering, incinerating, rivaling the temperatures of the desert surrounding them. But there, within those depths, she spied a shadow of apprehension . . . doubt. Was his family reading him the riot act about them being together? No. Diyari was his own man as he had demonstrated several times since she’d met him. No, it was something else. Even when Nina asked him a question, his eyes remained on her. The other women tittered at Diyari’s behavior. Diyari ignored them all. Even the king noticed where Diyari’s gaze remained fastened. The king touched Diyari’s arm, and Candace heard him inquire, “Diyari?”

  Diyari didn’t respond, his gaze impaling her. The only outward sign he acknowledged the stares and whispers filling the tent was the slight lift of his lips into that heartbreaking grin. The king touched Diyari’s arm again. “Son, I’m speaking to you.”

  Still he continued his merciless stare, as if caught in the vortex of her eyes. It was heaven, it was hell, and she desired nothing but to fly to him. To be held and cradled in those oh-so-strong arms. But of course, she couldn’t. That would really start tongues wagging.

  “Yes, father, what is it?” He refused to turn his head. The jade of his eyes heated into molten emeralds, and for a nanosecond, she caught a glimpse of his soul, his stare so intimate, it robbed her ability to breathe.

  Whispers filled the room, and some of the women snickered behind her back. Please stop, she silently begged. Couldn’t these women understand her situation? She loved him. Both Diyari and she were trying to do the right thing, as hurtful as that was for them. They were in torment, and it certainly was nothing to giggle about.

  Unable to stand the intense scrutiny a moment longer, she excused herself, moving toward the curtained changing room set up for her modesty. Sliding the curtain closed, she turned toward the wall as unstoppable tears spilled down her cheeks. Angrily she swiped at them, smearing her make up. Everyone viewed her as a threat, not only to Diyari, but to the kingdom. She unhooked the dress, letting it drop with a pssssh into a puddle at her feet. She bent from the waist to pick the gown up but dropped it when startled by Diyari’s deep sexy voice saying, “Merciful Allah!”

  She spun around. Diyari stood in the doorway, ogling her in her white transparent corset, garters, and thong underwear. She realized the sexy picture she presented. His gaze trekked ever-so-slowly over her white nylon thigh-highs with the pastel-blue satin bows balanced delicately at the top, only adding to her erotic image. He lurched toward her. She held up her hand, swallowing hard. “Oh no, you don’t. You need to get out of here. I’m already catching heat over our relationship. You must leave before you make the situation worse.”

  He continued his fervent assessment, his eyes hooded as the inferno of his gaze swept from the veil on her head down the entire length of her body to the stiletto heels on her feet.

  “Looking at you in these clothes is making it very hard for me to concentrate on anything. Leaving . . . that would take an act of Allah.” His voice slipped into a gravelly octave that flared heat straight into her core.

  His smile broadened, the whiteness of his teeth accentuated by his deep tan. She took a step backward, his raw sexuality blasting through her.

  He was the perfect fantasy of the desert warlord, with his feet planted in an arrogant stance, gun belts crisscrossing his impressive chest, a curved sword dangling at his side and pants tucked into shiny, black leather knee-high boots. Drool worthy, hard-muscled, and so extremely masculine. She was ravenous for him, only him. Having seen him naked, she knew what was hidden beneath those flowing robes.

  He tilted his head slightly as a frown marred the perfection of his lips. “Who are you catching heat from?”

  His persistent stare released its hold on her but proceeded to drift up and down her body. Volcanic heat erupted within her.

  “Nina.” Her voice sounded soft, fragile like a little girl’s.

  He straightened to his full height. “Nina,” he blew out a breath as his hands knotted into fists at his side. “You let me handle Nina. It’s your tears that have me alarmed. What’s going on?”

  She brushed at her cheeks. As she struggled to step out of the cloud of wedding dress ensnaring her feet, he reached out and seized her fingers to support her. “I’m wondering if I’m cut out for this job. I think I’ll give Jasmine a call and see if she can either replace me or come over and help me.”

  He bowed from the waist, placed a sweet, reverent kiss on her knuckles before he relinquished her hand, his eyes still fixed solely on her. A glance over him noted the tightness in his shadowed jaw.

  “Candace . . .” His voice was low, steady. “We both know you could handle this wedding with your eyes closed.” He inched closer to her, stopping when she backed up against the canvas wall of the tent, wringing her hands in front of her.

  With his hands on either side of her face, he trapped her in between him and the canvas Every ultra-masculine inch of him surrounded her. She breathed in his super sexy scent and stared up at him. Their eyes locked.

  In that potent masculine voice of his, he whispered, “Level with me. What’s the problem?”

  She reached around his body and grabbed a tissue from the box, blotting her eyes. He stood there, waiting.

  “I’ve been warned off you, again.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded fragile.

  “Damn it!” He spat, between clenched teeth, his lips a mere breath from hers.

  She continued to stare at him. “You’ve been honest with me from the start. I know we will never be together, it’s just that . . .” Her voice trailed off as she heard the king calling him.

  He pressed her for an answer. “It’s just what, Candace?”

  How did he remain so calm? Her insides were churning. “I want to be with you for the time we have remaining. I’m not asking you to give up anything for me.” Her voice shrilled. “Do you hear me? I don’t want anything, not money, not fame, nothing but you for as long as we can be together. Do you understand that?” Frustration edged her voice.

  He pulled back from her as he rubbed a shaky hand over his face, contemplating everything she’d said, that shadow still prominent within in his gaze. “Of course I understand. I’m in this with you. I’m all in for as long as we can be together. I’ve told you this before.”

  “Why can’t I have that, Diyari. I’m not going to make any demands on you. None. Would you go out and announce that to the rest of your family, so they quit glaring at me as if I were a threat to the kingdom?”

  He let out an audible sigh that shook his shoulders, “Ah, Candace,” he began. “No one sees you as a threat to the kingdom.” He turned and strolled over to the end of the room, crossing his legs at his ankles as he leaned against the canvas, the unequivocal representation of virile male wrapped in the black
robes and headdress of the desert. The aromatic fragrance of roasted Turkish coffee saturated her senses as she waited for him to reply.

  “Tell your sister that.”

  Amazement reflected in his gaze. “Nina said you were a threat to the kingdom?” he repeated, and then chuckled, a slow smolder of a sound that turned her knees to jelly. Of all the men to fall hard for, she had to pick the one man forever out of reach.

  She dabbed a tissue to her eyes as the tears continued to fall. “I’m glad you find this so funny.”

  He moved to her, and wrapping his arms around her, pushed her head into his chest. “The only one you’re a threat to is me.”

  She pulled her head off his chest and stared up at him, “Exactly, that’s what Nina said.”

  He placed a brief kiss on her forehead. “Forget her. Nina needs to mind her own business and stay out of mine.” He reached into her hair and removed the pins holding the veil in place. It whispered to the floor.

  “Diyari, may I have a word with you?” It was the king, just beyond the curtain. His demand sounded urgent.

  Candace closed her eyes, willing herself to be anywhere but here.

  A huge breath rushed out between Diyari’s lips only a second before he bent and kissed her lips with a tenderness she’d never experienced with him. Whispering into her ear, he said, “The only two people involved in this relationship are you and me. Disregard everyone else. Concentrate solely on me.” He popped her on her bottom with his hand. “Now get dressed, and I’ll take you for a ride.”

  She sniffed back her tears and reached for her clothes. Yes, a break was just what she needed. To get away from all the gossip and questioning looks people threw her way. “Thanks for the invitation. I could use a rest.” For the first time in the past hour, she smiled.

  Diyari shook his head. “Me, too.”

  When they were alone, she’d inform him about her CIA affiliation.

  As she changed her clothes, she could hear Diyari and his father arguing. Straining to make out the words, she moved to the curtain dividing the room.

  “This little fling between the two of you appears serious,” the king stated in a flat tone that left no argument. Oh no, not him also. Her shoulders slumped with the king’s words.

  “How could we possibly engage in a fling when every time I turn around, my family is causing an uproar between us? Interrupting us. Telling us what bad people we are for wanting to spend time together.” Diyari’s voice, though low, had an edge of steel running through it.

  “She could cause problems for all of us if she takes you away from the desert.” The king’s voice sounded old, ancient.

  She heard Diyari’s boots swishing across the canvas floor as he paced the room. “That’s not going to happen. We both understand the limits we must abide by. You are worrying needlessly. We have this under control.”

  The king let out a bark of a laugh. “Control . . . in love? The two words do not belong in the same sentence.”

  “We are handling this,” Diyari replied, still pacing

  “No, you’re not. You are falling for this woman. I see it in your eyes.” The sternness in the king’s voice had her moving even closer to the curtain. She wanted, no, needed, to hear Diyari’s answer.

  “Dad, I’ve got this. You don’t need to worry. When the time comes . . . I will do my duty!”

  The king’s voice softened. “Diyari, she may be the love of your life, but your commitment is elsewhere. I’m heading back to the capital, come with me. Take some time to think this over. Get your head out of the game for at least tonight.”

  Diyari stopped moving. “There’s nothing to think over. I’ll marry Princess Naomi. Nothing is going to change that outcome. Nothing,” Diyari reiterated.

  Candace’s legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, dismay filling her. Of course she knew that’s what would happen, but hearing him state it so intensely ripped her heart out of her chest.

  “Listen to me, my son, no good will come of this. You mark my words, Diyari,” The king continued.

  “Just let me handle this, will you? Trust me. When the time comes, I’ll do the right thing for king and country.” Frustration bounded from his voice. His annoyance matched hers.

  “I hope you can son, I really hope you can. But witnessing the way you look at her, I doubt you’ll have the strength to walk away from this. I know I wouldn’t.”

  Pulling a white desert robe over her head, she threw back the curtain. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter 9

  Walking his stallion out of the corral, he checked the saddle straps as he inhaled the earthy scent of freshly cut hay and leather. From behind him, her voice startled him out of his concentration. He shrugged out of the bandoliers crisscrossing his chest, making sure nothing came between him and Candace.

  “This is going to be fun. I can’t wait to see the desert from horseback.” Her eyes danced with excitement, and he knew he’d made the right choice by suggesting they take a ride. They needed to talk. In fact, he’d do anything to wipe those tears from her eyes. His family . . . he was so disappointed in their interference. He wasn’t a boy of ten, he was a full-grown man, and they needed to treat him with a little respect.

  His lips arched into a smile the way they always did when she was near. His whole life was beginning to revolve around her. Lately he’d secretly nicknamed her his only treasure. Patting the horse’s neck, he stared at her, dazzled by not only her beauty but her wit as well. Dressed in the white flowing robes the women of his country wore, her body completely covered from head to toe, she still had the ability to make him instantly hard.

  Sitting astride his horse with one hand holding the reins, he offered his other hand to her, and hoisted her up behind him. “Sunset is my favorite time to be in the desert. Come. Let’s be off.” His hand enclosed hers, an electric current shooting up his arm. His hands visibly shook as his excitement grew. He pulled her to him, pushing the softness of her body into his. Situating her in front of him, their bodies mashed together.

  His brain was fried. A quiver fired through him as the indelible vision of her in that oh-so-hot underwear forever embedded in his brain. When he first walked in a saw her . . . she nearly sent him to his knees. The soft flesh of her breasts swelling over the lacy cups of her bra added to his agonizing condition. The curve of her waist with that ever-so-tiny web of lace she called underwear that he could snap without much effort.

  His breath whooshed out. Another night of not being able to sleep because sexy visions of her gorged his mind.

  He gave his head a shake, expelling that fantasy out of his brain and focused on her sitting in front of him with her body squashed against his ever-present erection. The blueness of her eyes, the only uncovered part of her, sparkled as she turned and stared up at him. Those eyes. Those captivating, enticing eyes, sky rocketed him into the stratosphere.

  The fragrance of roses taunted his senses. His smile widened as he drew the essence deeper into his lungs, savoring the tantalizing bouquet. He cradled her in front of him as he kicked the horse into motion, nuzzling her neck.

  This was pure heaven. He’d finally have her to himself for at least the next hour. He intended to make good use of the time. He struggled to keep his hands from running up and down her body as he anchored her more snuggly between his spread legs. He closed his eyes, savoring the carnal tingle. Selfishly he pulled her back hard against him, celebrating when that perfect butt of hers slammed against his hardness. He reached across her to seize the reins in his hand and grazed her breast. Beads of sweat coated his forehead. His fingers shook for wanting to run them over her deliciously soft skin. Could he be any more turned on? Impossible. Every cell in his body was receptive. Patience, he cautioned. Yeah, patience wasn’t exactly his forte.

  As they made their way toward the open desert, h
e heard Taj’s booted feet running to catch up with them. He kicked the horse into a gallop. His family wasn’t going to spoil the little time they had together. Not today. No, he’d have her to himself no matter what he had to do.

  “Diyari, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Taj yelled, his voice breathless from the distance he’d run.

  His gaze fixed on the endless desert in front of him, he yelled over his shoulder, “I’ve got this, Taj.

  Taj was just as determined to stop him. “Diyari, wait until your bodyguard is mounted, we’ll go with you! It not safe for you alone in the desert. Think of your duty.” Duty, duty, duty, he was sick of his duty. Constant interference never ended with his family.

  Nothing would deter him from having Candace to himself. Nothing. All day long, he’d been frustrated with meeting after meeting, or whatever nonsense his father rounded up to keep him from spending time with Candace. Then, Nina upset Candace with her regrettable mutterings. He’d had enough of the whole group. But he still understood what he had to do. Yes, for the next hour or so, they were going to be honest with each other.

  “Miss Danvers and I want a few minutes alone. Can anyone in this family understand that?”

  “I understand that, I really do, but not at the expense of your safety,” Taj all but screamed back.

  “Forget it, Taj. I’m doing this on my own.” He kicked the horse into a quicker pace. The sooner he got away from his nagging family, the better.

  “Diyari, I’m pleading with you to be reasonable. Think about the threats! Damn it, Diyari!