The Sheikh's Ransomed Bride (13 page)

Belle pressed herself closer to the hard male body beneath the fine cotton of his robe, reveling in the restrained power of his solid frame. Her hands tightened on his skull as she stretched up to deepen the kiss, but while he accommodated her caress, even kissed her gently back, he didn’t let go. Not the way she craved.

`Kiss me properly,’ she demanded against his lips as frustration surged in a red hot tide. She pulled back a fraction to meet his eyes. `Please, Rafiq.’

Her body throbbed with unfulfilled need. Surely it wasn’t too much to ask just one proper kiss?

Belle watched his lips slowly curve up in a smile of satisfaction that deepened the sexy grooves beside his mouth. A dangerous smile. Her heart thudded a rapid tattoo of exhilaration and trepidation. His eyes darkened, a possessive glitter igniting in them as his arms wrapped round her, binding her tight against him.

Yes! This was what she craved. She sighed as he bent his head to hers.

Everything about this kiss was different. The searing energy that pulsed between them, the erotic stroke of his tongue in her mouth that made her shudder in response. His masterful stance as he bent her back against his iron hard arms, the spiraling tension that twisted faster, tighter, more urgently with every beat of her racing pulse. He took control of the kiss with the deliberate passion and seductive expertise she’d sensed in him from the first.

Dazedly she gave herself up to a sensuous embrace that made her forget everything except the desire throbbing between them. Her whole body flamed as he made love to her with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. The sensations were exquisite and shattering. She felt as if he bound her to him body, mind and soul.

She was melting, clinging to him as he absorbed her essence with his kiss. And gave her in return more than she’d ever dared hope for.

Eventually he lifted his head. The blaze of sensual exhilaration she saw in his eyes trapped her gaze and stopped her breath. Gone was the polite distance, the discipline and the control that had marked his every action. Instead his expression was fiercely intense, searing her with its potency.

A thrill of primitive excitement coursed through her.

Ì thought you’d never ask,
habibti
. You are the most stubborn woman I know.’

In one swift, lithe movement he bent and lifted her boneless form into his arms. His heat was all around her, binding her close, so she felt the thud of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the power of his muscle hard body.

Ànd you’re all mine,’ he murmured with a growling, masculine satisfaction that brought her back to shocked reality with a sudden nerve splintering jolt.

He turned and strode across the room, carrying her towards the wide, luxurious divan that filled one wall.

Rafiq felt her stiffen. Silently he cursed himself for giving voice to the rampant possessiveness that had torn at his precarious control all day.

He’d fought to repress it, to act as a civilized man. But it had been a losing battle ever since he’d seen her wearing that distinctive gold and diamond collar, symbol of their marriage. Of his ownership.

From that moment she’d been his. It wasn’t the wedding ceremony that bound them, or the public congratulations of their people. It was the sight of her, adorned by al Akhtar gold, her eyes skimming away as she placed her hand in his. Her fingers had been cool, trembling, and he’d felt a surge of triumph so strong it had rocked him. And underlying it was an even more powerful desire to protect. She’d put her life in his hands, and he wouldn’t fail her.

He’d barely been able to restrain the surge of sexual need that roared through him. Only by retreating into the safety of rigid decorum had he been able to keep his hands off her. To get through the day’s interminable formalities without dragging her into the nearest unoccupied room and taking her with all the urgency of his escalating desire.

Now she was his. That kiss had sealed it. Exhilaration fizzed in his blood and tightened his muscles.

Shimmering satin molded the sleek curves of her slim body. Its sheen was like water on priceless pearls, accentuating her allure.

He’d take exquisite delight in stripping it off her-soon.

But now it seemed there was one more hurdle to overcome. Belle still fought her destiny.

`Rafiq!’ Her voice was husky, drawing heat to his taut lower body.

`Put me down.’

Just what he had in mind. The divan in this suite was enormous, and soft enough to cradle her body. Personally he wouldn’t have cared if they’d had only a carpeted floor, or even the desert sand, at their disposal. As long as he could lose himself in her.

Ignoring the compulsion to hurry, he lowered her gently to the divan, positioning himself to lie beside her, propped on one elbow.

Her hair flared bright as gold over the silk coverlet, and the fresh, sweet scent of her filled his senses. Her breasts rose and fell with an arousal she couldn’t hide, despite the anxiety in her wide eyes.

He pressed his palm to the neckline of her gown, luxuriating in the feel of her bare hot flesh. So soft, so delicate. She’d be like that all over, her skin like the velvet of a rose petal. He drew his hand down over the tightly fitted fabric till his palm centered on the nub of one nipple. She gasped as he slowly twisted his hand and a jolt of pure sexual need juddered through him.

His wife was so responsive, so passionate. The pulse of her arousal echoed the throb of his erection.

`Rafiq, no!’ It was a thread of sound, a weak remnant of her normal firm tones. He smiled, knowing this last hurdle was all but overcome.

`Belle, yes,’ he breathed against her ear, flicking his tongue against her neck, tasting her unique sweetness. She trembled as he pressed his lips to her jaw, the corner of her mouth. She groaned, and he felt the rigidity in her legs as he shifted his thigh over hers.

He dragged in a harsh breath. Control. He needed to slow the pace lest he simply tear the dress apart and take her hard and fast, ravage her like some barbarian.

Already his body pushed against hers. His erection was hard against her hip as he slid his leg right across her, imprisoning her thighs with his.

Yes! He’d been waiting a lifetime for this.

He cupped her jaw with his hand, feeling the telltale throb of her pulse against his fingers. Her eyes were huge as she stared up at him.

`We can’t do this,’ she whispered. `We have to stop.’

He shook his head and watched her eyes fix on the fall of his hair around his shoulders.

`We can’t stop this now, Belle.’

`But you don’t really want me. I’m just a political necessity. This marriage is for show.’

Rafiq would have laughed if his face hadn’t been drawn into aching tightness by the force of a need that bordered on desperation. His response was to shift his weight so that he lay, centered over her, pressing himself into the intimate heat of her, reveling in the way her thighs automatically edged apart to cradle him through the layers of their clothes. This was right for both of them. She couldn’t deny that.

Ìs this for show, do you think?’ he rasped from a raw throat. `The way our bodies already welcome each other?’

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight shut. He read real distress in her face. It was like a douche of cold water against his burning skin.

He slid his finger gently over the luscious line of her bottom lip, stroking rhythmically till she opened her eyes and met his gaze.

`Why do you fight the inevitable, Belle? You belong to me. You know it’s the truth. Your body knows it even as your mind fights it.’

There was a flicker of something in her eyes, a softening, an awareness that sent a surge of elation through his blood. Then he saw the way her jaw clenched, recognized that determined expression. She’d worn that look on the island, when she’d fought in desperation with the last ounce of her will power.

`We’re attracted,’ she said. `But that’s all.’

That’s all! Rafiq couldn’t believe his ears. That she could dismiss what was between them so easily! She couldn’t be that naïve, could she?

No matter. He had no intention of spending his wedding night anywhere but in his bride’s bed.

`We’ve been thrown together by circumstance,’ she continued, looking over his shoulder as if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.

`Let me show you how much this has to do with circumstance,’ he murmured, dropping his hand from her jaw to her breast. Ànd how much it has to do with us.’

Her nipple was hard beneath his hand and he felt her breast thrust up into his touch. Belle couldn’t pretend much longer. She was fighting a losing battle. Her body knew what she wanted even if her mind didn’t.

`Please, Rafiq. Don’t.’ Was that a shimmer of tears in her eyes? He reared back, baffled by her distress. `This isn’t a real marriage. It’s a-a political alliance. A convenience.’ Her mouth twisted on the word and something jabbed deep into his chest. He felt her pain like a physical blow.

`
Habibti
, you are many things, but never a convenience.’ He stroked the bright hair back from her face and tried to ignore her responsive shiver. His will power was a fraying thread, liable to snap at the slightest provocation. And the sight of Belle, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes huge and beguiling, her body trembling with the need she sought in vain to hide, was almost more than flesh and blood could withstand. `You are brave and strong and honest and incredibly sexy.’

His voice dropped to a low rumble. Ànd you are my wife. What sort of man would leave you to sleep alone on your wedding night?’

Ìt’s not sleep you’ve got in mind.’

‘Exactly right, little one.’ He chuckled as he let his hand slowly circle her breast, satisfied as her eyelids drooped and her breath caught. ‘We are wed, Belle. This marriage is no sham. It’s real.’

Gently he squeezed her breast, and she squirmed beneath his touch.

`No!’ She shoved his hand aside and tried to wriggle out from beneath him. `We need to talk.’

He shook his head, beginning to lose patience. `We have all the time in the world to talk later. In the meantime I have something much more satisfying in mind.’

`Can’t you just move?’ She pushed at his shoulders till eventually he rolled back onto his side, giving her a little space.

He frowned. This wasn’t just wedding night nerves. There was desperation in her eyes.

`Thank you,’ she panted, and it was all he could do to keep his gaze fixed on her face rather than the way her breasts heaved.

Ì agreed to marry you to help keep the peace in Q’aroum. Not so I could become some royal playmate.’

Rafiq’s shoulders tightened at the insult. His jaw clenched. He’d given Belle his protection, his name, had bound himself to her.

And she had the gall to cheapen that?

`Nevertheless,’ he growled, ‘our marriage is legitimate.’ He paused as anger churned in his gut. Ùnder Q’aroumi law I’m entitled to take what I want from you.’

Her cheeks paled to chalk-white, and immediately he cursed his pride for lashing out at her. He couldn’t believe he’d threatened her like that.

`Belle,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse with guilt. `Don’t look at me like that.’ He stroked the silken length of her hair.

`That was unworthy of me. And of you. You must know I’d never hurt you.’

Slowly she nodded, but her eyes avoided his. She swallowed convulsively and his fingers slid across to span the tender flesh of her throat. Down to cover the heavy gem encrusted necklace, symbol of al Akhtar possession, down to the place where her heart thudded like a drum.

‘I‘11 never take more than you’re willing to give me.’ `But I can’t…’

His lips were infinitely gentle at the corner of her mouth, on her bottom lip, as he sought to undo the pain he’d caused. He kept his kisses light as he skimmed her smooth cheek, breathed a caress in her ear and returned to coax open her mouth. For a long moment she hesitated, then finally she kissed him back, tentatively at first.

He strove to contain his ardor. But soon their kiss grew deeper, slower, languorous with erotic awareness. She shifted her body against his and he caressed her, circling her breasts, skimming her narrow waist, her hips and thighs. Pulling her close.

Her hands were in his hair, sliding through to hold his head as he angled his mouth over hers. He felt the tension hum in her, the way she pushed against him.

She moaned into his mouth and he tasted her need, a sweet, musky flavor on his tongue. His body tightened in anticipation and he fought the urgency that built within him.

Soon now she’d be his. Soon he’d

‘No!’ Her hands were between them again, pushing him back, away from her. `We can’t. This isn’t right.’

He drew back enough to read the confusion in her eyes. If ever a woman was sent to try a man’s patience…

Ì‘m sorry, Rafiq. I should never have kissed you back. I didn’t mean to lead you on.’ Her eyes met his for a moment, then she looked away, her jaw set. Ì didn’t expect that you’d ever want…’

`My wife?’ What had she thought that they’d marry and then lead separate lives? Did he look like a man with water in his veins instead of good red blood? `You have a strange notion of marriage, if that’s what you thought.’

Heat flared in her throat, her face, and she bit her lip, teeth sinking savagely into her soft flesh. `Clearly we had different expectations of this…arrangement’

`This marriage, you mean.’ Did she have any notion of what she was asking? Of how difficult it was to lie here with her and not make love to her?

Ìt’s academic anyway,’ she whispered, looking miserably at a point over his shoulder. Ì have my period.’

Rafiq dried the water from his body and flung the towel away. His jaw ached with the tension that thrummed through him and his neck had set rigidly. His lips curved in a humorless smile. At least the long, cold shower had done its job and relieved him of that other stiffness.

He raked his hand through his hair and sighed. The shower had given him time to think. To plan.

Belle was scared. She’d been through so much in a short space of time, and now she needed time to adjust. It had been too much, too soon for her. She was so brave, so ready to face down her fears that he’d allowed himself to forget how traumatic these weeks had been for her.