Page 8 of Seduced By the Sheikh

“It is natural to feel sorrow when someone you are close to leaves.”

“You really don’t understand, do you? I’m not the least bit close to them. But they are all I have.”

“You have me now.”

“And I haven’t the first idea who you are.”

He nodded slowly and offered her his hand. “Take my hand and let’s sit for a while. It’s beautiful here. It’s where I like to come sometimes to sit and think.”

She was surprised but took his hand and allowed him to lead her to a seat beside the pool.

“It’s true,” he said after they were seated. “You don’t know me, nor I you. But you must know this one thing about me. I am not an unkind man and I will not hurt you. We will simply have to do things differently from other people. We will get to know each other slowly, after our marriage. We can take our time. I will take nothing that you do not offer freely.”

She swallowed, filled with relief at his words which surprisingly offered some kind of respite from the emotional turmoil which had grown throughout the day.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Now,” he said. “I think you may be more comfortable if you take off your veil.”

She nodded. The pins had been digging into her scalp all day. She reached up to grope for them. But he stopped her. “You cannot see properly. Here.” He turned her face to the light and slid out some pins. Then he eased the veil from her hair and laid it on the stone bench beside her. “Better?”

She nodded as she reached up to massage where the grips had been. Her hair began to fall from its elaborate form into his waiting hands.

“You have beautiful hair, Soraiya,” he said. “It was hidden under all those jewels and that veil.”

“Beautiful? It is not as dark as our cultures admire, I believe. At least my father thought so.”

“Your father?”

She nodded. “I resemble my mother for whom he developed a great hatred.”

“Ah, so he didn’t think to tell you of your beauty. Your hair is like a river running at full flow—thick and luscious.” He leaned toward her. “May I?”

She swallowed, aware of his every move, his every touch against her skin which sent sensation after sensation skittering through her body. He brought a strand to his lips and kissed it. Through her hair, his breath teased her neck. She gasped and lifted her head to his, suddenly aware of an urge to have those same lips pressed against hers. He smiled and withdrew, still holding her hair between his fingers. His gaze was steady.

“It feels like silk,” he said, his tone a shade lower, a shade hoarser.

His eyes had lost that distant look and now held a warmth which caressed her deep inside. From feeling lost and alone, she now felt at the center of his world.

He brushed the back of his finger across her cheek as he caught up another lock of her hair and drew it away from her face. “Your skin, too. It seems I have gotten myself a silken bride. Soft and sensual to the touch.”

For a moment she’d almost forgotten she was a bride, so lost was she in his touch and words and eyes. But his words reminded her.

She looked away quickly and started to pick up her veil but he took hold of her hand.

“Don’t go, Soraiya. Not yet. It’s so beautiful here. Let’s keep this magic for a little longer.”

She was too stunned by the feel of his large hand encircling her own to move. It felt so intimate. She looked up at him with a frown. “You are the king. Why are you doing this? I don’t understand. You need no magic and you certainly don’t need to humor me.”

“Perhaps I’d like to humor you?” He tilted his head to one side. “As you say, I am king after all,” he said with a whisper of a smile on his lips. “Which means I get to indulge my fancies.”

She couldn’t have said whether it was his tone of voice—even softer now, more seductive—or the way his thumb stroked the palm of her hand. But, whatever the reason, her mind and body stilled as if mesmerized. She wasn’t going anywhere, and he immediately sensed it. He brushed his lips against her cheek and ear and the last of her barriers fell. She gave a little whimper as he kissed her lower, on the neck. How a simple press of the lips could send such desires snaking through her body she didn’t know. But desires they were, and they found their way through to her breasts and to other places.

Before she knew it, he’d taken her in his arms and turned his attention to her lips. She gasped, her mouth opening under his. And he took advantage of it, gently touching her tongue with his, which sent more delicious sensations skittering through her body. She felt as if she’d been brought alive—awakened by the electricity of desire.

She heard a moan and with vague surprise realized it was coming from her. And she made no effort to stop his fingers from caressing her neck and shifting lower until they met the resistance of her dress. It was his turn to groan and he pulled away with a sigh.

He cupped her face and swept his thumbs across her cheeks.

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