by Zoe Blake
I rolled on top of her, balancing my weight on my forearms on either side of her head. Leaning down, I kissed her nose. “It means you will be the death of me!”
Wedged between our two bodies, my still semi-hard cock twitched and lengthened.
“Dimitri! You can’t possibly mean to have sex again?”
I gave her a wink. “What else are we going to do? It’s a nine-hour plane ride.”
Shifting my hips, the head of my cock nudged at her entrance when Emma pressed a kiss to my neck and then asked, “You’re not really taking me all the way to Morocco, are you?”
Chapter 24
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. - William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
Dimitri
“I heard a nasty rumor you brought a young female on board the plane to Morocco with you.”
Very little got past Vaska.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
I was lying. He knew it and so did I. I didn’t have to drag Emma halfway across the world with me, but if I were honest with myself, I was afraid to leave her behind. Afraid of what might happen if I gave her the time alone she wanted… the space to think our relationship through and realize an innocent librarian had no business being with a Russian mafia thug like me.
I couldn’t let that happen.
It was cruel and selfish, but I didn’t give a damn.
I didn’t really have a plan beyond keeping her by my side and in my bed long enough to erase all doubts or questions in her mind.
“You do realize that hot-headed spitfire she calls a roommate is threatening to call the cops if I don’t tell her where Emma is?” complained Vaska.
I’d forgotten about Mary. She would be worried. She was a good friend to my girl and deserved better. “Fuck. I’ll call her.”
Emma was sleeping in the bedroom while I headed to the lounge portion of the plane to get some work done before landing. I didn’t want to disturb her, especially after I’d handled her so roughly earlier. Poor thing would have bruises on her hips from my grip while I’d thrust into that amazingly tight ass of hers.
Jesus, this woman would be the death of me. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the notion she believed she wasn’t sexy or adventurous enough in bed for me. The idea was ludicrous. She was by far the most seductive, intoxicating woman I had ever been with… and frankly, that was saying a lot.
Nothing about her was practiced artifice. She had this natural primal energy that drew me like a moth to a flame. Her innocent responses to my touch were fascinating to behold. They were so pure and unadulterated and yet… dirty, sexy, hot at the same time.
“No, I’ll handle it.”
“Are you sure?”
Vaska’s voice took on a peculiar lilt. “It would be my pleasure.”
“You know she’s Emma’s dearest friend,” I said, a warning note in my voice. Vaska was like a blood brother to me, but that didn’t mean I would be okay with him hurting Emma by somehow hurting her friend.
“Understood. I’m handling it.” With that, Vaska deliberately changed the subject. “Mikhail Volkov has already arrived from Washington. Gregor Ivanov was kind enough to lend him to us to help fix our little… problem. He’s already arranged a meeting with the port master for tomorrow. I’ll tell him you’re having some low level meetings tonight and ask if he has time to swing by the hotel to meet with you after.”
As a former Russian sniper and head of security for the Ivanov crime syndicate, Mikhail Volkov was a good man to have by my side for this.
“Any problems I should be aware of?”
“We found out who was causing us headaches. A disgraced former member of the Royal Guard, trying to get his foot into the smuggling business by throwing around a lot of money and muscle. Mikhail has a watch on him.”
“Fine. I’ll discuss our options with him when we meet.”
Vaska chuckled. “That will be a brief conversation: option one, cut the head off the snake. There is no option two.”
“You know me well, my friend.”
“I’ll see you when you’re back in Chicago.”
“Vaska?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember what I said about Mary.”
There was a long pause.
“I don’t tell you how to handle Emma. You let me worry about Mary.”
“So, it’s like that?”
“It is.”
Apparently I wasn’t the only one who had gotten caught in the web of a seemingly innocent but incredibly spirited female.
“Good luck, I have a feeling you’ll need it.”
I disconnected the call, then made arrangements to have a fake passport and some clothes for Emma delivered to my plane by the time we landed.
I stared down at her sleeping form. I really hated to wake her. She slept so soundly she didn’t even feel us land. She looked adorable all curled up on her side, her tangled hair fanning around her on the pillow. The bedcovers had slipped down, revealing one creamy shoulder. I especially liked the glint from the diamond bracelet on her wrist.
I knew she was still very self-conscious about it, but I hoped she never took it off. It was my mark of ownership. Soon I would add a matching ring.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I leaned down and placed a kiss on her exposed shoulder. Her dark eyelashes fluttered before they revealed beautiful chocolate brown eyes.
“Did I fall asleep for long?” she asked as she straightened her legs and shifted under the covers.
“For the rest of the flight.”
“Goodness!”
I motioned with my head to the green canvas bag on the edge of the bed. “We’ve already landed. There are some clothes and toiletries in the bag for you.”
Her cheeks warmed with a pretty pink blush. Her lips were still slightly swollen and a dark pink from my aggressive kisses earlier. Damn, she really was the most beautiful creature, almost other-worldly.
“That was thoughtful, thank you. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Take your time. My meeting isn’t till tomorrow. We’ll check into the hotel and grab a bite to eat, then I have a surprise.”
Her eyes lit up. “A surprise!”
“If you’re a good girl,” I teased.
She leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. The covers slipped as she did so, and one pert nipple brushed my upper arm. I could feel my cock stir. It would have to wait. She was probably way too sore after the brutal fucking I had given her earlier. I might not be a gentleman where she was concerned, but I wasn’t a heartless barbarian.
As she sat back, she pushed out her bottom lip in a cute pout. Pulling the bedsheet up to cover her breasts, she huffed, “I’m still mad at you for basically kidnapping me.”
I furrowed my brow and thinned my lips, trying to look both serious and chastised. “Yes, I know.”
She grabbed a pillow and swiped me with it. “You’re impossible.”
“Yes, but you love me for it.”
Her smile faltered. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
I wasn’t sure if her change in expression was because she had admitted she loved me and I hadn’t said it back… yet… or regret over the fact that she loved me. Either way, I hoped to rectify both situations soon.
Cupping her head, I pulled her close and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Get dressed. I’ll be in the other cabin.”
Less than a half hour later, she emerged clad in a deep purple maxi-dress with a pair of strappy sandals. She had brushed her hair till it fell in smooth waves. My contact had even provided some makeup. Her lips had a pink sheen and her eyes sparkled with a touch of liquid eyeliner.
I motioned for her to twirl around. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. Everything fits perfectly. There is even another dress and a cute bathing suit.”
Placing a hand on her lower back, I pulled her close. “I can’t wait to get you to the hotel so I can take this off.”
“You’re so bad.”
If she only knew…
We stepped into the black, bulletproof SUV waiting for us inside the hangar. As soon as we got into the rear seat, I handed her several books.
“What is this?”
“I figured a cute book nerd like you would want to read up on Morocco and Marrakech while we are here.”
She squealed in delight as she eagerly scanned through the books.
For the short ride into the city, past fields filled with neat rows of olive trees, she entertained me with random facts about the history of Marrakech.
“Did you know many of the locals speak French as well as Arabic?”
I nodded that I did.
She flipped to a different page. “Oh! It says here we shouldn’t take a picture of a snake charmer without offering some form of payment. Apparently they get furious if you don’t.”
Her enthusiasm was contagious.
“Would we have time to see one of the famous bazaars? It’s supposed to be a chaotic scene of bright colors, exotic goods, and piles and piles of spices… and monkeys!” She gave a little bounce in her seat as she chatted on.
I sat back and rubbed my jaw as I watched her. My business frequently took me all around the world, from luxurious cities to cave hovels in the middle of the desert. Somewhere along the way, I had lost the simple joy to be had from experiencing new places and things. Until Emma, I had been living my life in the shadows, filling it with backroom deals, guns, and blood money.
She was a bright spark of light.
And I was a monster.
If I had learned one thing, it was that darkness swallows the light. Always.
I should have let her run from me when she’d had the chance.
Now it was too late.
Chapter 25
Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken. - Jane Austen, Emma
Emma
This all seemed like a dream.
This morning I had awakened to the dreary grey skies of Chicago, and now I was stepping into the warmth and sunshine of Morocco. This was insane! This kind of thing didn’t happen to normal people, or at the very least they didn’t happen to me.
I was grateful for the secure feel of Dimitri’s hand on my lower back as he led me into the hotel. I couldn’t suppress a gasp as we crossed the threshold.
I was inside the pages of the Arabian Nights!
The lobby was flooded with sunlight and bright bold colors. Highly polished mosaic tiles in complicated geometric patterns covered the floor and countless columns. Massive glass vases filled with gorgeous flowers gave the air a fresh floral scent. As he led me toward the reception desk, we stepped past a center fountain surrounded by a shallow rectangular pool of cool water.
The hotel staff greeted us warmly. Apparently Dimitri was a frequent guest. Instead of showing us to our room, they mentioned a word I wasn’t familiar with.
Grasping his elbow, I leaned up on my toes and whispered in his ear, “What is a ri-yad?”
He leaned down and whispered back, “Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t want them to think I’m uncultured.”
He pulled on one of my curls. “You’re adorable. The Royal Mansour doesn’t have typical hotel rooms or suites; they have riads, which are a traditional Moroccan house that surrounds a private courtyard. They cater to a clientele who prefer their… privacy.”
Despite the warmth of my surroundings, I shivered.
It was a subtle reminder we were not here on some spur-of-the-moment romantic getaway. Dimitri was here on business. Shady, criminal business I wasn’t supposed to know anything about. Dangerous business I preferred not to think about. It was easier to be with him and reconcile my love for him if I stayed inside my ignorant bubble.
The only problem was… bubbles were fragile things. They usually burst.
As they showed us into our personal riad, I walked past the living room, which was dimly lit by several hanging iron and stained glass lamps, through the open door to the courtyard. It was stunning. Breezy palm trees shaded the many jewel-toned ottomans and lounges, which surrounded a fountain depicting a large urn pouring water into a circular pool. The cobalt tiles made the water look impossibly blue.
It was a reader’s dream.
I could easily imagine spending hours each afternoon curled up on a lounger, listening to the quiet music of the running water as I read. Closing my eyes, I inhaled. Just like in the lobby, the air had a fresh floral scent. It felt like the entire city was a brightly colored blossom floating on crystal blue, sun-kissed waters.
Strong arms closed around my middle.
“You must be starving. They are setting up lunch in the dining room.”
Turning, my cheek brushed the soft bristle of his goatee. “Can we eat out here?”
“Of course. I’ll go tell them.”
I was seated in an alcove in an upper corner of the courtyard, tucked between two lemon trees. It had a low table with several bejeweled cushions and was hidden from view by silk draping in vivid yellow, orange, and crimson.
A breeze rustled the branches of the lemon tree, sending a sweet citrus scent into the air. Just then, Dimitri appeared. He had changed out of his suit into a loose-fitting white linen shirt that was partially unbuttoned exposing his colorful tattoos and heavily muscled chest, and a pair of tan linen trousers.
Fuck, he was hot as hell. Even his bare feet were sexy.
Once more I felt a cold fist twist inside my chest. I didn’t really consider myself an insecure person, but it was hard not to feel a little trepidation around someone like Dimitri. He was older, more cultured, and probably richer than I could ever imagine. Places like this were just a Tuesday business trip for him. Meanwhile, I was gob-smacked at my exotic, luxurious surroundings.
He sat down on one cushion, then leaned over onto his elbow next to me. He looked like a dark sultan, the kind from the movies who seduce gullible virgins into following them deep into the desert. Looking into his silver eyes, I knew I would definitely willingly be one of those women.
We lounged in the shade while Dimitri explained the different dishes and offered me bites from his fingertips. There were spicy salads made with shredded carrots and coriander, marinated purple artichokes, poached spiny lobster with a citrus vinaigrette, and lamb with saffron and almonds.
Every mouthful was a burst of decadent flavor. It felt like I was tasting color. I know it sounds strange, but it was as if everything had a vivid filter on it. Cerulean blues, malachite greens, copper oranges, amethyst purples, and magenta reds, and all of it had a thin thread of metallic gold and silver that made it shimmer and dance in the golden yellow sunshine.
Dimitri reached for a sugared date off one of the tiered platters. Taking a bite of half, he held the other half up to my lips. I ate from his hand, licking the extra sugar from my lips.
He growled. “Don’t you start or I’ll forget to feed you and just take you to my bed like a savage.”
Leaning close, I licked my lips a second time, in what I hoped was a seductive manner.
Dimitri pounced.
The dominating force of his weight pushed me into the cushions. His muscled thighs captured my kicking legs between them. His already hard cock pressed against my stomach.
He leaned over me with one forearm. Stretching his arm out, he reached for an orange half from the silver platter filled with fruits and cheeses.
“Open your mouth.” His voice was low and husky with desire.
I obeyed.
He crushed the delicate fruit in his fist. Squeezed the rind till sweet juice trickled into my mouth and over my lips. His lips then followed, tasting the honeyed nectar on my tongue.
Much later, as I lay naked by his side on the cool mosaic tiles, trailing my fingers in the water and listening to his deep and even breathing, I couldn’t help thinking we were in the Garden of Eden.
Too bad I
had forgotten about the evil serpent.
Dressed in a gorgeous cobalt blue silk dress with slip-on ballet flats, I took Dimitri’s hand as he led me from our exotic oasis.
“Can you at least give me a hint?”
We were on our way to Dimitri’s big surprise and I couldn’t contain my excitement.
“If you weren’t so preoccupied with tearing my clothes off, you’d probably have guessed by now,” he teased.
Taking him up on his challenge, I thought about what I knew about Morocco. It wasn’t much, and he had kept me occupied since arriving at the hotel, so the books he had given me were untouched on the table inside.
My mouth fell open. I turned to him with wide eyes. “No!”
He smiled. “Yes!”
“Really?”
He nodded.
Oh, my God!
This amazing man who had stormed into my life with the force of a hurricane, tossing all my emotions into a chaotic wind and stealing my heart, was about to make one of my biggest dreams come true.
I can’t believe I was actually here.
I took a deep breath and tried to quiet my beating heart. It was pounding so hard I felt lightheaded. Trying to collect myself, I looked down at the geometric tile of gold and brown under my feet. I then focused on the pristine white arches, then the gorgeous emerald green tiled roof. A simple fountain in the center of the courtyard was the only other decoration.
“Do you want to go inside?” asked Dimitri.
“In a minute. I just want to take it all in.”
I took another deep breath.
I was standing in the courtyard of the University of al-Qarawiyyin, the world’s oldest library.
The feeling was overwhelming. This was Mecca for any librarian. It was the top item on my bucket list. An item I never thought I’d ever get a chance to check off.
In the rooms surrounding this courtyard were over four thousand rare books and ancient Arabic manuscripts, centuries’ worth of human thought and innovation.
