Page 5 of The Sheikh's Secret Family

Still, she looked upset, and on instinct, Tariq set down his mug of cocoa and reached for her, pulling her into a hug. It was a little awkward, since they were sitting on the floor, but Emelia still felt right in his arms. Her hair smelled like coconuts, probably because of a shampoo, and her head fit perfectly on his shoulder. After a moment, she set down her own mug and wrapped her arms around him in return. If the circumstances hadn’t been so sad, Tariq would have counted this among the best moments of his life.

Tariq pulled away just a little to see that Emelia’s tears were completely gone. Instead, her green eyes were wide and her perfect pink lips were ever-so-slightly parted. Suddenly, the whole atmosphere changed from comfort to something much more charged. Tariq freed one hand to tuck a strand of her long hair behind her ear and hesitated.

“Emelia,” he said, very softly.

She sounded a little breathless when she replied, “Yes?”

Tariq tilted her chin up, skimming his thumb across her soft, flushed cheek. She leaned towards him by a fraction of an inch.

“I was wondering if I could kiss you,” Tariq said, wishing that he knew a way to be more sophisticated about this.

“Yes please,” Emelia said, and then they were kissing. It was everything that Tariq had dreamed of. The little sound Emelia made when their lips met sent a wave of happiness through his whole body, from his head to his toes. And once they were kissing, her lips were soft and warm and tasted a little like hot chocolate.

Tariq pulled her closer, feeling the warmth of her pressing against him. Emelia’s hands reached to tangle in his hair. Kissing her felt like freedom, like adventure, like the promise of better things to come. Like being seen. Tariq never, ever wanted to stop kissing her.

Yet when they slowly pulled back, seeing Emelia’s wide eyes and her shy smile was almost as good as the kiss had been. Tariq skimmed a hand along her arm, finally tangling his fingers with hers and sitting back a little for a more comfortable position.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted and Emelia flushed even pinker.

“Me too,” she told him. Then, more sternly, “but this can’t affect my studies. I worked really hard to get here and I won’t let anything get in my way.”

Tariq laughed a little, putting his free hand up in surrender. “Yes, ma’am. Don’t let me distract you. I think we have some irregular verbs to review, don’t we?”

Emelia nodded, then glanced away before peering back at Tariq. She looked a little nervous. “But maybe, if we get everything finished, we could try that again? This kissing?”

“Yes, please,” Tariq said with feeling. That Emelia had found the kiss as powerful as he had was amazing. Tariq was sure he would never get tired of kissing Emelia, no matter how many times it happened. And he hoped that this was just the first of many.

With a quick movement, Tariq leaned forward and kissed Emelia once more on her soft, flushed cheek. Then he let her grab her large, battered French textbook, setting it between them with a blush and a stern expression.

He was sure that the feeling of happiness bubbling through him couldn’t be erased by anything, not even some confusing French grammar. Not even by the fact that he was keeping too many secrets.

CHAPTER3

EMELIA

Spring was just starting to spread across the Stonebridge campus, bringing buds to the trees, birds to the skies, and fear of exams to all the students. Emelia couldn’t bring herself to be worried, though. She was too happy.

Ever since their kiss a few weeks ago, Emelia and TJ had been spending almost every spare minute together. Alongside about a million kisses, each more thrilling than the last, they’d meet up after class for studying and dinner, take afternoon walks, and even have breakfast together some mornings at the dining hall. Emelia kept offering to pay, but TJ always had a thousand reasons why he should be the one to get the bill: his mother would be mad if he didn’t, he had a gift certificate, he needed to make change out of a twenty. For the first time in her life, Emelia let someone else take care of her instead of trying to do everything herself. The feeling was new, strange, and somehow exhilarating.

The only problem was that TJ seemed to be hiding… something. Emelia wasn’t quite sure what. Something about his family, she guessed. He rarely mentioned them, and when he did, he never said their names or jobs or hobbies or anything. Not even when Emelia asked.

Emelia wasn’t quite sure what was going on. She’d told him all about her family problems. It didn’t make sense that he wouldn’t feel comfortable opening up to her, too. But Emelia was used to this kind of thing and wasn’t about to push, not when things were going so well. She liked kissing him way too much to give it up. And she liked Tariq so much that she was fairly sure she was falling in love.

One Saturday, when the rain that had been drumming on the roof of TJ’s dorm all day finally let up, TJ suggested a walk.

“We can go over to the garden,” he suggested, nudging Emelia’s shoulder with his own.

Emelia sighed, glancing down at her pile of homework and things she wanted to review before midterms. She had way too much to do. Still, she loved Stonebridge’s garden, especially now that the flowers were starting to bloom. Even more, she loved walking hand-in-hand with TJ and the way that he would sometimes stop to kiss her cheek.

“Okay, okay, but just for twenty minutes,” she said.

TJ grinned his goofy grin and jumped to his feet, holding out a hand to help her up. Even though he had a comfortable desk, they still always sat on the floor to study. It had become their tradition, along with hot chocolate, walks, and the occasional silly movie when they got tired of studying.

“Are you going to be warm enough?” TJ asked as Emelia slipped her shoes on at the door. Emelia glanced down. She was wearing purple leggings and a long-sleeved white T-shirt, but no jacket.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, but TJ was already shaking his head. He grabbed his Stonebridge hoodie and handed it to her.

“I don’t want you to be cold,” he said when she started to protest, and, with a little sigh and a secret smile, Emelia slid the sweater on. It smelled like TJ, a masculine smell that reminded her of shaving cream and ginger. Emelia didn’t want to admit it, but it was nice that TJ wanted to take care of her.

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