Sheikh's Convenient Marriage

He tugged the jeans down over her knees and she could hear the soft rustle as they fell to the floor.

‘Nice knickers,’ he murmured before deftly removing her bra and shirt.

Leila blushed at his words, telling herself this was normal. This was natural. ‘Thanks,’ she said, as if men complimented her on her choice of underwear every day of the week.

He tugged off his T-shirt and stood up to unbutton his jeans, and Leila was mesmerised as he peeled them off. Her heart began to pound with excitement as his body was revealed to her, for she had only ever seen a horse from the royal stables in such a state of arousal before.

Yet he seemed proud and unashamed of his nakedness as he walked across the room and retrieved something from his suitcase. Leila saw the glint of foil and the reality of what she was about to do suddenly hit her.

Because that was a condom; she was certain of it. She might never have encountered one before, but what else could it be?

She felt the icy clamp of sweat on her forehead as reality suddenly broke into her erotic thoughts. Did all women feel this sudden sense of panic the first time? The fear that she might disappoint him?

He was putting the item on the table beside the bed, and while she knew that she should be grateful to him for being pragmatic, it destroyed the mood a little. Why was real life so messy? she wondered bitterly. In films, you never saw any of this. Couples seemed to find themselves in bed together almost by magic and then the scene cut to them giggling as they ran down a street, usually in Paris. Not that she and Gabe Steel would be running anywhere here in Simdahab—at least not without the Sultan’s guards giving chase. And if he didn’t come back here and kiss her soon, she was going to get cold feet.

But almost as if he’d read her mind, he came back and lay down beside her. His body was warm, but his face was sombre as he traced a thoughtful line around her lips.

‘Suddenly so serious,’ he said, his grey eyes narrowing. ‘As if you’ve started having regrets. Have you, Leila? Because we can stop this right now if that’s what you want.’

Leila closed her eyes as she felt the brush of his finger over her lips. And wouldn’t that be best? To put her clothes back on and get out of here as quickly as possible. She would feel embarrassed, and he might be angry with her for having led him on, but no real harm would have been done. She could slip away and act as if nothing had happened—because nothing had.

But then she thought about what awaited her back at the palace. She thought about all the inevitable restrictions and rules which had governed her life so far. All the things she wasn’t allowed to do and never would be able to do just because she was a woman and a princess. She thought about the royal prince her brother would probably arrange for her to one day marry. The watchful eyes of both nations as they waited for her to produce an heir, before her husband thankfully sought refuge in the pleasures of his harem, just as her own father had done.

And suddenly she thought why shouldn’t she experience this—as millions of other women had done? The way that men did almost every day of their lives. Why shouldn’t she have this one brief interlude of pleasure before she took up the duties which lay ahead of her?

She wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Kiss me,’ she whispered. ‘Kiss me. Please.’

He smiled as his mouth came down to cover hers, and suddenly it did feel like a fairy tale. As if her senses had been fine-tuned. As if she were capable of anything. Anything.

‘Oh,’ she said, her eyes fluttering to a close as he drifted his mouth to her neck to kiss it over and over. ‘Oh.’

Now his lips had found her breast and she could feel a thousand tiny sparks of pleasure as his tongue flicked against her puckered skin. She splayed her hands over his chest, where his heart pounded so strongly. She felt the coarse whorls of hair which grew there and she tugged at them—as playfully as a puppy with a new toy. His groan of delight filled her with confidence and she let her fingers drift downwards to explore the muscular flat of his belly and another helpless groan made her feel invincible. As if she could do anything or be anyone.

Anyone but herself.

He kissed her until she thought she would go out of her mind with longing. Until her heart was full of him. And suddenly, she wanted more. She could feel the restless movements of her body, orchestrated by a desire which seemed outside her understanding. Her fingers were kneading at his broad shoulders and she could hear him give a low laugh—as if her hunger pleased him. She could feel him tense as he began to nudge her legs apart with one insistent knee.

Her breath caught in her throat as he slid his hand between her thighs, and she cried out as he touched her where no man had ever touched her before.

‘God, you’re wet,’ he groaned.

‘Am I?’ she questioned almost shyly.

‘Mmm,’ he affirmed as his finger began to strum against her, moving against her heated flesh in a light and silken rhythm.

Against his shoulder, Leila closed her eyes and felt as if she might melt beneath his touch. It felt gorgeous. He felt gorgeous. Gorgeous Gabe Steel who had stopped touching her and was now tearing at the little packet of foil he’d left beside the bed.

His face was formidable as he moved over her again and suddenly it was happening, almost without warning. He was lifting up her hips and making one deep, long thrust inside her, and she was crying out—only this time her cry sounded different, because the pain was very real. She felt him grow still and her heart plummeted as she saw the new expression on his face. The intense pleasure had changed into an expression of disbelief as he stared down at her.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘No.’

‘What?’ she gasped, because he was deep inside her and now that her body had adjusted to accommodate him, it felt amazing.

‘You’re a virgin?’

She sensed that he was about to pull out of her, but she had come this far and she couldn’t bear him to stop. Some deep instinct was governing her now, and she prevented his withdrawal by the simply expedient of tightening her body around him. She saw his eyes grow at first angry and then smoky as tentatively she moved her hips upwards so that he was deeper still.

‘So what if I am?’ she whispered. ‘Somebody’s got to be the first and that somebody happens to be you. Please, Gabe. I want to experience pleasure the way that other women do. I want you to show me how. I know you can show me how.’

Gabe shook his head as he felt her slick heat yielding to his helpless thrust. The potent combination of her innocence and tightness and the erotic words she was whispering was making him harder than he could ever remember feeling before. But she was a virgin, he reminded himself. Unbelievably, she was a virgin. She had come to his room—this complete stranger—and given herself to him without any kind of ceremony. What kind of woman did that? He felt perplexed and resentful at having been lured into a situation which wasn’t what it seemed.

So call a halt to it right now.

He swallowed. ‘This is—’

‘Heaven,’ she said, her voice an irresistible murmur. ‘You know it is. Don’t stop, Gabe. Please don’t stop.’

Her heartfelt plea was his final undoing. His anger evaporated and Gabe gave a groan of submission. Why fight it when she didn’t want him to stop and...oh, God, neither did he? Pushing himself up on his elbows, he stared down at her beautiful face as he began to move inside her.

Her eyes were closed and he was glad about that. He didn’t want to have to look at her; he just wanted to feel. He pushed deeper into her moist heat and groaned again, because she felt so good. She felt unbelievable. Was this why men spoke wonderingly about virgins, because they were so tight? Or because it gave a man a sense of power to know that he was the first?

But in the midst of all his macho triumph, he fought another wave of helplessness which was unfamiliar to him. Gone was the slick and seasoned Gabe who could last all night. He felt like a teenager who wanted instantly to explode inside her. But he mustn’t. This had to be nothing less than amazing, because it was her first time. He had to take it slowly.

Yet it wasn’t easy. He found himself stunned by the intense pleasure which was radiating through every pore of his body and not just because she was so tight. He realised how liberating it was not to have any emotional expectations hovering over him like a dark cloud. This really was sex without strings. Sex without the fear that she would fall in love with him and want more than he was ever prepared to give.

His thumb on her clitoris, he tilted her back against the pillows, listening to the rising volume of her cries. He watched as she began to move inexorably towards orgasm. Suddenly, she opened her eyes, and he met a clear flash of startled blue. As if she couldn’t quite believe what was happening to her.

‘Gabe?’ she whispered, her accented voice unsteady.

‘Relax.’ He gave another deep thrust. ‘Just. Let. Go.’

He saw her lips frame something which was destined never to be said as her eyelashes flew down to shutter out the blue. And then her body started to quiver helplessly around him and her back began to arch. He heard the words she said as she convulsed around him, although she spoke them in a language he didn’t understand. He kissed away the muffled little cries which followed and tried to ignore her fingernails, which were now digging painfully into his back. He waited until her body was almost still before he let go himself, spilling out his seed in great wrenching bursts he never wanted to end.

For a moment he felt so dazed that it was almost as if he’d been drugged. Today, of all days—his body was warm and pulsing with life, instead of feeling empty and cold or deliberately anaesthetised. From between slitted eyes, he surveyed her. Her glossy black hair was tumbling down over her breasts and her perfect olive skin was flushed.

He lifted his hand to her cheek and felt her shiver beneath that light touch. ‘Who are you?’ he questioned, but she leaned over him and kissed his lips into silence.

‘Shh,’ she said, and her voice was very gentle. ‘You look weary. Go to sleep, Gabe. Just go to sleep.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_be368ce3-b1d3-5bf3-9803-5156791b9429)

‘HAVE YOU BEEN listening to a word I’ve been saying, Leila?’

Leila gave a start as her brother’s impatient question cut through the confusion of her thoughts. In the air-conditioned cool of the palace, she wondered if the hectic colour had faded from her cheeks and for once she gave thanks to the veil which concealed them from the Sultan. But there were other signs, too. She knew that. The mirror had told her so when she’d looked in it a short while ago.

Had the telltale glitter disappeared from her eyes? She prayed it had. Because if her clever and dictatorial brother Murat ever guessed how she had spent that particular afternoon...

If he had any idea that she had given her virginity to a man who had been a stranger to her.