Sheikh's Hired Mistress (13 page)

“Hector made you a kitty,” Ramos said, inching the latte toward her.

“If that’s a hint that I need to just give in to my fate and become a lesbian, I reject it,” Laine said, pointing at him.

Ramos laughed. He had been teasing her lately about being so single, especially once he’d learned that she’d taken up painting again. She’d found a class within her skill and price range not too far from her apartment. She wouldn’t be featured in any museums any time soon, but she deeply enjoyed going to class after work two days a week. Hector, the sweetheart that he was, had hung one of her efforts up with a price tag of $100 underneath it—which, compared to the other paintings, was practically giving it away, but it was the gesture that counted. It looked like he’d taken it down now, though.

“Okay, you call the supplier for the wallpaper, and I’ll get on the phone with the construction guys.” Laine picked up the conversation where they’d left off.

The days were long, but Hector helped make them go by faster. He also had an office and a few spare rooms above the coffee house where they could make use of his printer and fax machine or make calls when bands came in to play and it was too loud to work. Hector had thanked Laine for helping Ramos get started on his own. Laine herself wasn’t particularly interested in entrepreneurship and felt that the two men had really helped her attain a balance with the things she wanted to do.

That evening, they were working late. It wasn’t a painting class evening, so Laine had a little extra time to spare before she called it quits when she noticed Ramos looking up at Hector expectantly. It was late enough that Hector was opening a bottle of wine for a customer, and he signaled that he would be two minutes.

“What’s going on?” Laine asked.

Ramos shrugged.

She watched the two of them suspiciously for the next few minutes from behind her laptop screen. Finally, Hector came over to her and put a check in front of her. She looked at it, and then up at Hector in disbelief.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Your commission. For your painting.” Hector beamed.

“Someone
bought
it?” Laine picked up the check as though it might dissolve in her fingers.

“I know, right? What’s become of taste these days?” Ramos teased.

Laine swatted him.

“Well, minus the house’s take,” Hector said. “But plus a little extra over the asking price.”

“I noticed,” Laine said.

Hector shrugged. “I told the buyer you’d deliver it and do a little artist/buyer meet and greet.”

He held out a scribbled note with an apartment number for one of the rooms upstairs. Laine reached for it and then paused. The check was from Hector, so the buyer had already paid in advance to see her.

“Did he pay in cash?” Laine asked. “What did he look like?”

“C’mon. What could it hurt to meet a fan?” Ramos said.

Laine snatched the note from Hector and began to pack up her things. “If this goes poorly, I’m blaming
both
of you.”

“It’s
upstairs
. I’m not sending you into the depths of Hell,” Hector said. “I told him you’d meet him there after I had a chance to have the painting properly wrapped.”

Laine pressed her lips into a line.

“Go on,” Ramos said, making a shooing motion.

Laine pointed threateningly at the both of them in turn before she left. She didn’t know what she was hoping for. Knowing that her friends were setting her up didn’t help as she started up the staircase, carrying a moderately sized painting that she’d been sure would never sell. Laine wasn’t sure if she wanted to be right or not. Something fluttered inside her, suspecting that on the other side of the door waited Aziz. This was so something he’d do. Things hadn’t ended well between them, and she wasn’t willing to go back to pretending that she could enjoy their time together and expect nothing more.

When she reached the door, she hesitated. She smelled roses. Suddenly anger rose inside her. She was tempted to leave the painting there and just
go
.

Another empty gesture? Another arrangement to move her where he wanted her?

Her temper getting the better of her, Laine opened the door and stepped inside, acid ready on her tongue. It faded away, though, as she spotted Aziz standing by the window and several vases of striped roses arranged around the apartment.

He was there. He was waiting, real. Not just a dream or memory of this strange, powerful man who had held her beating heart in his hand and tossed it away.

His head turned, and she took a step back, scowling deeply at him.

“Oh…you are more beautiful than I’d remembered,” Aziz said.

“Please stop.”

“Laine, don’t run from me again. I have brought you a bit of your garden.” Aziz gestured to them.

“I’m sad they had to die for this.” Laine walked up to him and set the painting down. “Enjoy your painting, Aziz. And enjoy New York.” She walked toward the door.

“No, wait!” Aziz pleaded.

Laine stopped. She thought a moment. “Tell Hadiya I said hello. I might give her a call.”

“Please just listen, would you?” Aziz stepped up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I have so much I need to say.”

Laine turned and looked at him incredulously. “Why are you
here
? For a painting? And not a very good one. What else can you say to me, Aziz? About me and my sad life?”

“I should not have spoken so roughly to you. I was angry and did not want you to leave.”

“Obviously.”

“It is no excuse. But your life has changed. I know because your office tried to assign me another designer.”

Laine crossed her arms and looked down. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No, I am pleased. You left that toxic place. It was a good move.”

“I hope so.”

“I am simply so happy to know that you are free of that place. I am so happy to know that you are painting…Would you make more for me?”

“Would I have to fly to Bahrain to paint them for you?” she quipped.

Aziz chuckled. “In all honesty…I just…” He sighed, rolled his shoulders back, and then sat down on Hector’s threadbare couch with his hands folded between his legs.

Laine relaxed slightly. What did he really want?

“I have needed to talk to you. To be honest. I have needed to say how brave it was of you to come to my country, to try to engage with my culture, to stand up to Amin.” He frowned deeply, shaking his head. “I heard through Hadiya, who heard from Amin’s wife, what happened. I cannot believe he would have…it is unthinkable. Amin has always been the older brother. He was to be the responsible one, and even after I took the lead as head of our family, I felt that I should show him due respect. But after what he’s done, I cut him off from the family fortune.”

He lifted his head. “Perhaps temporarily, and I will ensure his wife and children have enough, but for now, he must learn that actions have consequences.”

“Good. He’s old enough to have learned that lesson already,” Laine said a bit harshly. She looked down on him and wanted to touch his shoulder. That had to have been a hard decision for him to make. “Thank you.”

“I should have done more when you were with us,” Aziz said. “I should have been more resolute. You are brave in the way I want to be brave, and I…”

Laine uncrossed her arms and stepped closer to him. “You?”

Aziz looked at her tenderly and smiled. “I wanted your service as a designer because you are
good
. You are an untapped talent, and it gratifies me to know that you have finally accepted this. But…” He swallowed and tented his brows. “When the renovations were underway, I wanted you to
stay
because…”

“Aziz—”

“No, Laine, please. I wanted you to stay—I needed you—because I adore you. I love your beauty and your strength. I wanted more
time
. I could
never
have enough time with you,” Aziz vowed.

Laine closed the distance between them and touched his shoulder. He gazed up at her as if he were taking in the stars themselves, and she blushed deeply.

“What am I supposed to do? Come back home with you?” Laine asked, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“I could throw you over my shoulder and take you,” Aziz suggested. “But after the bruises I saw on Amin, I wonder if you would go quietly.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” Laine teased with a smile.

“Does this mean that you would consider…?” Aziz took her hand and kissed it. “Allowing me to…?”

“I think I’ve allowed you enough.” Laine closed her eyes for a moment. “I have missed you, though. I thought you must have found yourself another live-in fling by now.”

“No one can replace you. I’m utterly taken by you, Laine. I cannot help but beg you to forgive my failures.” He reached for her face, and she came down to sit beside him. “I knew what you were asking of me. I simply struggled to admit I wanted something more than temporary.”

Laine lifted their hands up, their fingers woven together, and looked into his big hazel-green eyes. How she’d missed them and the sound of his voice and the scent of him. How she’d missed his humor.

“I did too,” she murmured. “I never could believe that you wanted more than what you’d already taken.”

“
Please
believe me, Laine. Please let me show you how dearly I love you. Give me this chance to truly make a fool of myself.” Aziz cupped her face and searched her eyes before pressing an inquiring kiss to her lips.

Laine felt her heart pounding in her chest. She’d changed so much of her life. Could she still fit him into it? Could she refuse what she felt for him, either way? Did she even want to, anymore?

“Let’s be real,” Laine said. “We’re both going to do that.”

Aziz laughed and pulled her close to him. Laine touched Aziz’s cheek. In spite of her doubts, she had to believe him now. For all his odd ways, he’d never been cavalier about the word “love.” She caressed a hand over his thick, luxuriant hair and then met his lips with a gentle, inviting kiss. Aziz’s hand pressed against the small of her back. He returned her kiss vigorously, as if to prove his feelings through their physical connection.

But Laine was convinced. Now, she wanted to convince
him
. She wanted him to understand that this risk he was taking, admitting his feelings to her, was much wiser than he seemed to believe. She curved her leg against his and scratched her nails lightly down the back of his neck.

“Ah!” Aziz grabbed Laine’s ass and pulled her into his arms. “My tiger!”

“Yes,” Laine gasped, arching her back and wrapping her arms around Aziz’s shoulders. “Yours,” she vowed.

With a grunt, Aziz laid her back on the sofa, kissing her neck as she exposed it for him. Laine rolled her hips forward, eliciting a guttural noise from Aziz. He rubbed his erection against her thigh and squeezed just under the curve of her behind.

“Are you still on the pill?” he whispered.

Laine nodded, cupping his face between both of her hands. She kissed him fiercely, with a heat born of the denial they had suffered from their time apart. Even being this close was not enough. She needed to touch him, to be pressed flesh to flesh, to have him inside her as one body.

“My shirt!” She laughed when Aziz pulled her blouse open effortlessly. He slipped off her bra and rolled his tongue around her sensitive nipple as he squeezed her side. As always, her body was his to worship. Mewling sounds came from her as he teased one breast and then the other, and she began to quiver, her body wanting more of him all the time.

When Aziz pulled away, Laine moaned from the loss of him, but he was only stripping off his pants and soon returned to her with apologetic kisses. He positioned one strong arm underneath her ass, lifting her up until she could hitch a leg over his shoulder. Her head rested against the arm of the couch and she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I was so afraid to let myself want this,” Laine admitted.

Aziz slid one finger inside her as he held her securely. “As was I, but now, we take our happiness, yes? No more fear. Just life and love, my sweet, strong rose.”

Laine moved her hips against his fingers, making soft noises of appreciation and looking into his eyes like they had only just now seen one another truly. When he pushed his erection inside her, she remembered how thick it was, and how it was so close to being too much…but it wasn’t. It was perfect, filling her completely as he rocked his hips rhythmically.

Their eyes closed, and he pressed his forehead to hers. Back and forth, they both panted and moaned, expressing their passion and appreciation of one another. His hand reached between them, massaging the sensitive nub there, and she tightened around him as she shuddered in pleasure. Once only a little, and then again explosively. She gripped the back of the couch with one hand, moaning as though possessed, and her body lit up in ecstasy.

Aziz came inside her forcefully, his cry loud enough to let Laine’s meddling partners downstairs know that Aziz’s plan had been a success.

That night, Aziz took Laine back to his hotel suite. She had always wanted to see what was on the other side of that conference table where they had first discussed the job in Bahrain. They lay curled together on a ridiculously enormous bed with soft white sheets, murmuring plans and possibilities for a future in which they could have it all. Family and fortune both seemed infinitely manageable in the afterglow, and Laine found herself telling Aziz more than she’d ever been able to before. He touched her forehead tenderly and kissed her scar and said that he wished to meet her father and for Laine to meet his.

“Father will adore you, I know,” Aziz said. “I am sure of it. Mother may take some time, but Hadiya has bent her ear about you already. She is prepared to love you.” He chuckled. “When you left, Hadiya would not stop pestering me about what I’d done to offend you. You have won her over; she is
your
sister now.”

Laine smiled. She liked the idea of having another sister. “I’ll have to thank her. It must’ve been hard getting a stubborn one like you to admit you’d messed up.”