Kate Hardy - The Sheikh Who Loved Her - Ruling Sheikh, Unruly Mistress / Surrender to the Playboy Sheikh / Her Desert Dream

Lucy frowned. At a stroke Razi had forbidden her to have a career.

She must be reasonable, she warned herself. She could see that maybe she’d made a blunder—fronting a restaurant would be too high profile. ‘I could be a silent partner—I could run things from the kitchen without ever showing my face. We have to find a solution, Razi. We must. We have to make this work.’

As he stared at her he realised that before this moment he hadn’t believed a woman capable of a selfless act, but Lucy had proved him wrong. She had proved herself in so many ways even he didn’t think it was fair she had to continue doing so. It seemed some people were always fighting with their backs against the wall, while others had it handed to them on a plate. With Ra’id’s help he had fought his way up and there was nothing lacking in his life, while Lucy was completely at his mercy.

She stood facing him, expecting nothing, asking nothing. He touched her cheek almost reverently, growing increasingly aware of her sacred role. ‘I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.’

By whom? her steady gaze asked him.

‘Surely you can see the sense in my proposals?’ he demanded, tightening his grip on her arms.

He had not expected her eyes to fill with tears, but having all the strength and every advantage he let her go. ‘Don’t look so downcast. I’ll buy you two homes—one here and one in England, but you can’t work. It wouldn’t be—’

‘Appropriate?’ she supplied softly. ‘I haven’t come here looking for handouts, Razi. I don’t want anything from you in the material sense. All I ask is your promise never to part me from our child.’

‘And to change centuries of tradition?’

‘If women don’t work here, don’t you think you’re wasting a valuable resource? If traditions have been in place for centuries, maybe they’re due an update. Sorry,’ she said, seeing his face tense. ‘It’s really none of my business.’

As he stared at her he found himself wishing that it were her business.

RAZI shook his head in despair. At Lucy’s naivety at thinking he could change centuries of tradition? She only wished she could tell him everything in her heart: how she loved him, how she wanted him—and not for his power or for his wealth, or even his good looks, or for any of the other obvious advantages a man as deeply layered and endlessly fascinating as Razi possessed, but for the simple pleasure of being in his company. She couldn’t conceive of a palace grand enough or jewels big enough to compete with a glance from him when that glance was full of warmth and connection between them.

‘What if I promise never to part you from your child?’ he said. ‘Is that enough?’

‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

‘In that you are unique,’ he admitted, his lips tugging with just the faintest show of the old humour.

It might be all she’d ever wanted, but it wasn’t everything. She wanted Razi’s love too, but that was a fantasy too far. She settled for, ‘I promise I won’t embarrass you, Razi. I’ll live a quiet life out of the public eye. I’m not missing anything. I’ve always been a backroom girl with no idea about fashion or moving in society—’

He cut her off with a laugh that sounded achingly like Mac’s.

‘What’s so funny?’ She knew deep down inside. She would never be exposed to society, or have any need to learn about fashion; the life she had planned out—the future they had practically agreed on—included none of that. She would live somewhere in the country where he could visit discreetly.

She gasped as Razi cupped her chin and made her look at him. ‘I’m laughing because you’re funny,’ he said, his glance slipping from her eyes to her lips. ‘Your ideas are funny. Your notion of how I live and what’s important to me is so far off the mark, it’s funny.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’

A world of possibilities opened up as Razi’s thumb caressed her jaw. She could do this … She could do just about anything to be with him …

Razi’s smile was slow, and confident enough to make her believe anything was possible. Her breath sounded ragged in the silence as she waited, suspended somewhere between hoping things were changing and knowing deep down they could never change enough to make all of her dreams come true.

She was right. The tension between them subsided and he let her go. His next words proved that while she had been desperate to believe in a fantasy Razi’s quick mind had covered all the bases. Every conceivable facility would be made ready for the expectant mother of the royal child. Lucy and her baby would want for nothing. Name it, and she could have it. If she preferred a different consultant—a different nursing team—anything—everything—too much of everything—was hers for the asking, while the one thing she wanted and longed for so badly, which was a normal family life, could never be hers. But as her emotions welled, so did her longing for Razi—one more night of pretending they could be together and she could cope with anything. One night of love to last a lifetime didn’t seem so greedy. One more night of knowing how it felt to be loved …

With his senses so keenly tuned to Lucy he knew almost before she did when she surrendered her ideas to his. He was still coming to terms with the miracle of new life and the fact that Lucy was carrying his child and felt a great sense of wonder. There was also the urge to stake his claim again.

‘This is crazy,’ she murmured, shivering with desire as his lips brushed her mouth.

‘That’s the weakest protest I ever heard,’ he observed, slowly backing her towards the entrance to the pavilion.

‘I must be crazy,’ she protested, reaching up to rest her hands on his shoulders.

‘A little crazy goes a long way with me,’ he murmured, giving her waist a reassuring squeeze.

Razi lowered her onto cushions that supported her frame and yet moulded themselves to her body in the most comfortable way. The curtain over the entrance was still drawn back to allow streamers of moonlight to decorate their cushioned bed. The interior of the pavilion was shaded and lit by two brass oil lamps and an incense burner. She was surrounded in a haze of delicious scent and refreshing night-time breezes kept her cool, but even in Razi’s arms she was restless. There was so much to be decided yet and maybe this was a mistake. ‘This is wrong.’

‘Wrong?’ Razi murmured against her mouth. Removing her ugly robe, he tossed it aside. ‘There’s nothing wrong with this,’ he said, shooting a wicked glance down the length of her body.

Just one more night …

It was as if all the humour and worldliness that had once drawn her to him was back. There were no divisions between them now, just the gasping, pleading sounds she was making as Razi rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her slowly, deeply, until her anxiety subsided and all thoughts of tomorrow disappeared.

‘I’m almost frightened to touch you now you’re carrying my child,’ he murmured, kissing the tender place on her neck and then her collarbone, before travelling down to tug and tease her painfully engorged nipples, before moving on to lave her belly with his tongue. ‘Almost,’ he added in a wry murmur when she groaned in complaint. He proved this by working his magic on her swollen lips with delicate raids of his tongue. ‘You taste different—fuller, richer, sweeter …’

And she was almost frantic with desire. How she longed to be full of him, stretched by him … loved by him. Where she had hungered for sensation, Lucy realised, now what she hungered for was closeness, reassurance and love.