Sheikh's Scandal(34)

“Would you like to see it?”

Liyah was being propositioned. She wasn’t sure who was more shocked when she accepted.

Herself, or Sayed.

* * *

Sayed led Aaliyah into the sleeping quarters. Although it was as superbly appointed as the rest of the plane, the bed was only a double size.

He would not allow the cramped quarters to prevent him from his current objective: giving Aaliyah an experience worthy of the gift of her innocence.

No matter how mind-bogglingly good the sex had been the night before, they’d both been under the influence of alcohol. And he hadn’t known she was a virgin.

He’d entered her body completely unaware of the gift she bestowed. Without proper care many virgins experienced a great deal of pain their first time.

It was only by grace and benevolent genetics that Aaliyah had not.

The knowledge he was her only lover resonated in the most primal part of Sayed’s psyche.

And he wanted more.

Desire riding him harder than a runaway camel in the desert, he reached for her the moment the door shut behind them. Sayed pulled Aaliyah flush with his body and into a kiss. Over half a foot shorter than him, she should not fit so perfectly, but she did.

Like their two bodies had been made just for this connection.

He demanded a response from her and she gave it, her passion a match for his, though expressed differently. Her lips melted under his, parting almost instantly. Without a second thought, he accepted the alluring, silent invitation.

Surprised and a little worried that it was every bit as stunning as the night before, he rubbed his tongue along hers.

She tasted so sweet, familiar in a way that should not be possible after only one night together.

Her hands came up and then his egal and keffiyeh were being tugged off in one motion and tossed away.

Amused despite the desire raging through his body, he broke the kiss. “You do not want the emir?”

Emerald eyes trapped his with the emotion glowing in them. “Sayed, when we are like this, I will always want the man.”

“No one wants only the man.” Not since the day he became emir, not merely second son and sheikh.

“I do,” she vowed, her musical voice vibrating with sincerity. “I did last night.”

“No matter what we might wish, I never stop being the emir.” It was a warning for him as much as her.

His future had been written in the stars the day his brother was killed. Sayed was not just a figurehead.

He had no choices about walking away from his responsibilities. There was no one to take his place and he loved his people too much to let them down.

She shook her head, looking up at him, her beautiful oval features set in serious lines. “You’re right and you’re wrong at the same time. Because right now, you are Sayed. Yes, you are emir, but that is not all you are.”

He wished he could agree, but honesty forced him to shake his head in disagreement, even as his hands smoothed down her body, seeking the hem of her top.

“What do you call Melech Falah?” She shivered as he tugged her blouse out of her waistband.

“Father.”

She rubbed her cheek against his affectionately. “So, he is not only a king, but he is your dad, too?”

“Yes, but his duty comes first.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, shifting her lower body against his.

Did she expect him to focus on conversation right now?

She laid her hands against his chest, one landing unerringly over his heart. “You don’t think it would have been better for Zeena Sahra’s sense of country unity and its international consequence for their prince to be educated and raised within its borders?”

“My safety was necessary.” There was no sentimentality in that.

“Oh, yes, absolutely, but your dad sent you away. The king would have just increased your security. How often did he and your mother come to visit you in the U.S.?”

“Several times a year.” Though Sayed had only been allowed home a few times in all the years he attended school in the States.

They’d spent the summers together in Europe with his aunt and young cousins, their exact location kept from any but his father’s closest advisers.

“Tell me again, your father was never more or less than melech.”

“He was and is my father,” Sayed said, never having denied it, but also understanding she had a point in what she said.

“And right now? You are my man, rohi. Even if it is only for the next hour, I won’t give up a second of that and I won’t let you, either.”

“I am supposed to be the experienced one here, but you are seducing me utterly.” He could not acknowledge the my soul.

No doubt she had heard it from her mother and did not realize the deeper connotations the endearment carried between lovers. Those implications were all too fitting between them, though he would probably never have the freedom to acknowledge.

But their souls fit, just like the rest of them.

“I like that.” She pushed his outer robe off his shoulders. “Because everything about you makes me want you more.”

He did nothing to stop the gold-trimmed black fabric from pooling at their feet.

She went directly for his suit jacket, taking time to lay it over a chair in the corner. “I may be repressed, but you dress like a monk.”