Maisey Yates - Sheikh's Desert Desire - Carrying the Sheikh's Heir

“They’re precious.”

Sheridan stood and watched the puppies wiggling happily, playing and yipping, and wished she could go in and sit down and let them climb all over her. But she knew her guard wouldn’t approve of that. Eventually, the sound of approaching hoofbeats made her turn her head. A man in desert robes sat astride a beautiful bay horse as it trotted toward the stable. When they reached the building, he swung down and handed the reins to a groom, who had appeared out of nowhere.

And then the man turned his head until dark glittering eyes met hers, boring into her with that combination of heat and anger that seemed unique to Rashid. Her belly clenched at the primal recognition that stirred to life inside her.

Beside her, her guard had dropped into a low bow. Sheridan, not quite knowing what to do, decided to curtsy. Oh, she was plenty angry with Rashid, but she would not create trouble by refusing to acknowledge his power over his subjects. She wasn’t stupid and she knew it was important to have her guard’s respect.

Rashid’s eyes narrowed—and then he came toward her. His gaze raked over her, taking in the hijab and dress—which she’d realized weren’t strictly necessary since she’d seen women in his palace dressed in Western business attire—before landing on her face again.

“Miss Sloane, isn’t it a bit late to be touring the stables?”

Miss Sloane. As if he hadn’t been inside her just a few hours ago. She lifted her chin. “I believe I already established that I’m still on a different sleep schedule than Kyr. Though it isn’t quite eight o’clock here yet, which I would consider early even were I acclimated to your time zone.”

Her heart thundered relentlessly in her breast as she stared at him. He was no longer quite the stranger he’d been before last night’s passionate encounter, and it disconcerted her.

He turned his attention to the guard. “Leave us.”

The guard rose and melted into the night. Sheridan felt a hot wash of anger move through her.

“I realize you’re a king, but do you have to talk to people like that?”

His brows drew down. “Like what? I told him what he needed to know. Do you prefer I ask him politely to go?”

“It might be nice, but no, I don’t really expect that out of you.”

“You sound like my brother.”

She blinked. “Do I? Is he a nice, sensible man?”

“Nicer than I am.”

“So you admit you aren’t very nice.”

“I’m not trying to be.” He shrugged. “I am who I am. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.”

She dropped her gaze. It was an odd conversation in some respects. Odd because of what they’d done the night before, and odd because she could feel that fire beneath the surface. It was only waiting for ignition.

“After last night, I really didn’t expect an explanation.”

Oh, wow, had she really said that? She wanted to bite her tongue.

He searched her features. “You are upset because I did not allow you to stay in my bed.”

“Allow?” She resisted the urge to poke him in the chest, but only barely. “What makes you think I wanted to stay? We were finished and it would have been awkward to stay. You don’t strike me as the type for small talk, and I’d rather not have to attempt it. It was better that I left.”

His dark eyes flashed with some unidentifiable emotion. “You continually surprise me. I thought you would be upset. Regretful. Wringing your hands and wishing you could undo the things we did together.”

She shrugged as if casual sex was her thing when it really wasn’t. “Why would I want to undo it? It was nice.”

“Nice?” His voice was a growl and she suddenly wanted to laugh. Even superior kings had fragile egos when it came to their performance in bed. Hint that you were less than satisfied and you found yourself faced with a dangerously tense male animal with a point to prove.

“Unlike you, yes, it was nice. Very nice, if you insist.”

He stiffened. And then he laughed softly. Once more, the sound of his laughter had a way of surprising her. It was as if he didn’t laugh often enough and wasn’t quite sure how. “You are baiting me. I see it now. If I said the moon was golden tonight, you’d say it was yellow.”

That pesky warmth was flowing in her limbs again. Her body ached with his nearness, and though she had another, more immediate ache between her thighs to remind her of his possession, that didn’t stop her from wanting it again.

“And what am I supposed to be baiting you into?” Her voice was huskier than she would have liked it. But he already knew how he affected her. One corner of his mouth lifted in a superior grin.

“Perhaps you want another demonstration of my niceness.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “Hardly. Once was enough, thank you.”

Once was not enough. And that really worried her. Why did she want him? It wasn’t like her to crave a man the way she craved him after only one night. Plus, this was too complicated. They weren’t dating. This wasn’t a man she’d met in Savannah, a man with the freedom and ability to pursue a relationship with her.

This was a king. A man who ruled a desert nation. A man who was so unlike any man she’d ever known that he confused her. He was arrogant, bossy and he already acted as if he owned her.

And she let him. She’d always thought she was a feminist, but the way he made her behave was decidedly not liberated. It was needy, physical and completely focused on sexual pleasure. If he threw her into a stall right now and had his way with her on the hay, she’d only urge him on.

He moved away from her and she tried not to let her disappointment show.

“Come, I will take you back to your quarters.”

She threw another glance at the puppies before joining him. They walked side by side, but not touching, toward the palace.

“You like puppies?” he said.

“I love puppies. I’ve never had a dog, but I plan to get one some day.”

“You’ve never had a dog?”

She shook her head as they walked across the courtyard. “My sister was bitten by a neighbor’s dog when she was four. So we never got one because she was too scared.”

“That hardly seems fair,” he said.

Sheridan felt that old familiar prick of resentment flaring deep inside. It was followed, as always, by guilt. It wasn’t Annie’s fault.

“Maybe not, but she cried whenever my parents talked about getting a dog for the family, so they gave up. We didn’t even have a cat.”

“Did a cat bite her, too?”

Sheridan stopped abruptly. Rashid was a few steps ahead when he turned toward her, waiting. “She had allergies,” Sheridan said. “And it’s not her fault.”

He moved toward her again. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him. He bristled with a coiled energy that she was certain contained a hint of anger. At her? At Annie?

“Perhaps not, but it seems to me as if your sister’s problems have done nothing but impact your life. Did you always give up everything you wanted for her sake?”

Sheridan’s chest grew tight. The lump in her throat was huge. “Don’t talk to me that way. You don’t know my sister and you have no right to judge her. Annie’s fragile. She needs me.”

His gaze raked her face. “Yes, she needs you. She needs you to acquiesce to her demands, to give her what she wants, to provide the thing she believes she’s been cheated out of.”

Sheridan gasped. And then she reacted. She moved to slap him, but he caught her wrist and held it tight. His dark eyes were hard. And filled with a sympathy she’d not seen there before.

She was shaking deep inside. “How dare you? Annie didn’t ask me to have this baby for her. I offered! And I’m going to do it, even if it takes another year to start again.”