Sheikh's Fake Fiancee (4 page)

***

She didn’t even know how she’d found herself here. The easy answer was that Sixth Avenue wasn’t that far from Saks. However, she could have chosen any attraction to see in the city. Sheikh Bahan Munir could have gotten them the most elite tickets to the hottest Broadway show, into the VIP section of the best clubs, or in for dessert at a celebrity chef’s crown jewel restaurant. Jennifer didn’t want any of those things. In some ways, her life was simple, but her job wasn’t. This weekend was a respite from the usual strife and shark tank she battled through. She needed the fresh air.

So standing in front of the shop windows, decorated with amazing animatronics and marionettes among other things for the holiday shopping season, was exactly what had appealed to her.

“I didn’t peg you as a Peanuts girl,” Bahan said.

“Well that just happens to be the theme,” she said. “They did a big Mickey Mouse one last year, some team-up-with-Disney theme. Maybe next year it’ll be Looney Tunes or Rudolph or something wholly original. You never know out here.”

“And you grew up on this,” he said. “You saw these windows as a kid and fell in love?”

“Not exactly, not this way,” she admitted. “I’d see them on TV, or Mom would bring home magazines that highlighted style and décor, anything that might have big color pictures of the displays that year. Once the Internet was up and running, we’d search for articles about them, too, from actual NYC papers. It was the cornerstone of our Christmases down in Kentucky.”

“That’s very far away to be so interested in a New York store,” he admitted. If he found her hobby weird or her family’s history somehow off-putting, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, his voice was low and gentle. “Can I ask why you did this?”

“Definitely. I figured you’d think I was very weird if I didn’t explain.”

“No, I’ve learned in all my travels that there are millions of reasons why people do things, some are custom and some are just here,” he said, pointing to her chest. “The heart makes up so many rules.”

“Or maybe just ways to survive. My dad walked out when I was just six and Sydney was a baby. Maybe he couldn’t handle having a sick kid like Syd, or he was just a philandering dick. Maybe both, but we didn’t have much money. We’d celebrate Christmas over New Year’s so we could scrape up a tree someone else threw out and Mom could buy a few discounted gifts and maybe candy. I mean a book here or a stuffed animal there. She tried her best, but the one thing we could do was pretend. We could look at these windows and at least imagine what Christmas could be like if we were rich. Once I got my job and had my first big raise, we had Christmas again, but for the longest time, these windows and our imagination were what we had.”

Bahan surprised her by reaching out and holding her hand. It was a simple gesture, far more innocent compared to things she’d done with him already, even with the temptation she’d presented dancing last night. “That’s one of the most honest things anyone’s ever told me.”

“It’s just why things are the way they are,” she said, smiling a little as an animatronic Charlie Brown and Snoopy ice-skated their way through a pond in a snowstorm. “But these windows are beautiful either way, and sometimes I just like the simple, quiet things. I like to hear my thoughts.”

“I never do,” Bahan replied, and for just a moment, his grip on her hand grew tighter.

“What?”

He swallowed and looked away. For a moment, Jennifer thought that he wouldn’t speak further and she couldn’t blame him. Clearly he’d said more than he’d meant to. Finally, though, he faced her again, those amber eyes of his seeming to probe into her very soul.

“If I take too much time to think, then I can think about the possibility of things going wrong. One day I’ll be the sole leader of my people. My brother can help and so can my mother, but when I fully become the sheikh, their security and happiness—everything—will depend on me. Most of the time, I try and distract myself with anything I can…anyone I can.”

“So am I a distraction?” she asked, her heart pounding in her chest. Jennifer knew that after tonight, a simple
yes
wouldn’t suffice for her. Sheikh or not, Bahan meant more to her than just a quick roll in the hay, as they said back home in Lexington. It would pierce her very heart if he only wanted her as a distraction from his duties. “Is this all we’re doing tonight?”

His response was so fast that he made her head spin as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. “No, I swear that’s the last thing we’re doing here. Anything that comes after this, it’s not for one night. I wouldn’t want that…not with you.”

“Why?” she said, breathing in his scent, her nose almost tingling with the spiciness of him. “What makes me different?”

“Because I’ve seen part of your soul tonight, Goldilocks, and there’s so much more to you than you know.”

***

It could all still just be lines.

That was what scared her the most—the thought that she could be giving her heart away again to a man who was weaving the tales that she wanted to hear. Yet, there was something so sincere when she looked into his golden eyes that made her believe him. Bahan had given her a bit of his own truth, shared his fears that one day he wouldn’t be enough for his people. He almost hadn’t, and yet he had.

That kernel of truth had been enough to reassure her, to let her believe this could work. It was why she was back at his hotel suite, hoping that she wouldn’t be carelessly cast aside come morning.

Curling a lip playfully up at him, Jennifer said, “I think we’ve covered the dance. I don’t know if you want me to do a striptease for you.”

“No,” he said, winking back at her. “That’s not my thing.” Bahan continued gliding across the floor. The man was grace incarnate. Reaching down, he started to knead her shoulders, to loosen those muscles that were always tight from her working on a computer or, frankly, from the tension she carried worrying over her family. “I love to have control in everything, Goldilocks. I want to undress you myself.”

He started by unclasping her necklace and then taking the time to set it on one of his chest of drawers. She appreciated that, especially considering the cost. For him, it would have been nothing, a price he probably spent on tissues or eggs or something marginal at a damn palace. But for her, it meant everything—the sign that she was finally successful.

When he was back, Bahan brought his hand to the top of the zipper on her dress. “Is this alright?”

She felt heat in her belly and wetness already pooling between her thighs. Her legs shook and a flush colored her cheeks. She was more than ready.

God, I might explode if you called this off, Bahan
.

She didn’t say anything quite that articulate. Instead, she half moaned in response as he unzipped her. The dress fell off her shoulders and she stepped out, revealing her lingerie underneath. It had been something she’d bought once for Dustin, but had never been able to wear. Not after she found out about…

She banished those thoughts away, promising herself that, for tonight, she’d be happy.

It was a black lacy thong and peekaboo lace bra. It had almost as many holes in it as substance, and she wondered if he’d be able to catch glimpses of her nipples through the translucent fabric.

She hoped to God he would.

“You’re a revelation, Goldilocks,” he said, running his hands over her breasts. “I can’t imagine a woman more perfect than you.”

Now that has to be a line. Dustin always hinted about the gym…

No, she wouldn’t do this. This was Bahan, and she had to give him a chance. This was all so new, and maybe he truly did see her as perfect. She thought he’d be crazy if he did, not with her too thick thighs and the swell of her stomach, but maybe there was something about her that he could see.

Lord knew she couldn’t.

Leaning over her, he ran his tongue first over the curve of her chin and then down her throat, stopping at her pulse point until he flicked against the delicate skin there. She moaned again, letting out a noise that was no more than raw animal need as he continued his ministrations.

But Bahan was far from finished. His tongue crept over her chest, swirling patterns over the sensitive flesh there until he found her left breast. At first, he didn’t even slip off the lace, just went to work suckling and nibbling at the sensitive skin underneath the flimsy fabric. She arched her back and mewled at his efforts, loving the way his tongue felt rough and inviting all at the same time. Then he reached up underneath the band of her bra, finding her right nipple and tweaking it deftly. As his tongue teased and tempted her left side, his hand was playing with her right side, stroking everything there until it reached a rigid peak. By now, that flare of heat in her belly was an inferno, and the wetness was building to inestimable levels between her legs.

She groaned and looked down at him, tangling her hands in his hair. “Please, Bahan, I need so much more.”

“Are you ready for me then, Goldilocks? Ready for me to give you pleasure like you’ve never known?” he asked, his voice brimming with the confidence of a well-practiced lover.

That was exactly what she needed tonight, what she
craved
.

She nodded and tried to ignore the throbbing urgency of her most sensitive bundle of nerves.

I’m going to explode if he doesn’t touch me. I’ll erupt or shatter into a billion tiny pieces without more of his touch
.

“Please, yes.”

He grinned up at her, something equal parts saucy and evil. “Patience, Goldilocks. When did the best things come to people who rushed through life?”

She gritted her teeth even as her precious pearl seemed to bother her even more, to beat even faster in time with her heart. “But only if they don’t die first.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever actually died of sexual frustration,” he teased, kissing her throat.

“I might be the first, and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” she asked.

He shook his head even as he pushed his thumbs under the waistband of her panties and pulled as hard as he could. She hissed as the thin material tore in his grasp. Spreading her legs apart, she let Bahan take the lace away from her. He shocked her by bringing the panties to his nose and giving a quick, deliberate sniff.

“You’re so very ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Have been,” she said, surprising herself.

His grin widened even as he shoved her ruined panties in the pocket of his pants. “I may very well keep those knickers for later.”

“I love that random Britishness about you,” she said, her voice sounding raspy and desperate. It was all she could do to keep up rational thought when the desire was pulsing out from her core so desperately.

Bahan chuckled. “I aim to please, Goldilocks.” Then he ran his hands in tandem up her thighs, squeezing them lightly as he did so. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

“Bahan…my sheikh,” she gasped.

He slid one hand between her thighs, stroking at her secret lips and massaging the velvet of them. “And you’re so very ready for me. Does this feel good, princess?”

She nodded and moaned a bit. Jennifer couldn’t utter a full sentence now if her entire life depended on it.

God, just keep going.

Then he slid two of his fingers—so thick and so long—in past her slit and deep into her core. She almost stumbled then, the sensation too much for her. He pulled his fingers out slowly and licked them.

“Like the nectar of the gods.”

She wanted to snort her derision, but she was too busy wishing that he’d attend to all of her needs. Still, it was something Dustin had always complained about. She’d rarely known a man who seemed legitimately interested in this.

“I…”

He leaned up and licked her secret lips, swirling his tongue over them, lapping up any wetness he found there before latching his mouth over her tender, pulsing rosebud. She bucked her hips against his face almost out of instinct, desperate to give him the best angle possible. Bahana started slowly, teasing her with light suckling of her pearl. Then he pulled back enough to flick his tongue fast and furiously against that sensitive bundle of hidden nerves. It amazed her how fast he could go, how the rapid laving of his tongue was so quick.

She felt all of it then, the sensations swirling around her—the hard wall against her back, the strength of his hands as they dug into her thighs, and the scent of both of them, so sweaty and musky. But it was the cresting wave of pleasure that tantalized her, drove her mad as they made love. Her body quivered beneath his efforts, until the tsunami finally collapsed over her, sweeping all rational thought aside as she submitted to the ecstasy drowning her.

When she could finally focus again, she sagged into Bahan’s arms and looked back up at him. “That was…”

“For me too,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Now, let’s rest. I have so many plans for you while I’m in town, and we don’t have to do all of them right away.”

Chapter Four

It had been almost like severing a limb to see her leave. He’d wanted to spend the day with her, maybe even attempt ice skating by Rockefeller Center. Bahan wanted to show her all the kitschy things he heard tourists did in New York at Christmastime, give her the holiday traditions all at once that his poor Goldilocks had to skip for so many years. But she’d scurried off after a lazy breakfast, admitting she still had to spend time with her sister and work on presentation for her job. She had given her number to him, and he intended to call her tonight and make sure he secured another date with her. Hell, he was only calling Mother today because he wanted to see if he could arrange to be the main liaison in New York with the new construction until at least the New Year. He couldn’t justify being gone for so long, especially with Father’s illness, but a couple extra weeks when Fareed had almost as good a head for business as he did surely wouldn’t hurt anything.

Of course, that meant contacting Mother at all, a process he loathed. Intellectually, he understood that his mother meant well, that she was working to secure their power as well as their safety as both a family and ruling house. Sometimes, however, that bled into ruthlessness that he despised, actions that he would never have taken on his own. Sometimes, he thought Medea had treated her children better back in Greek myth.