Chosen by the Sheikh (15 page)

“I try,” she replied, her pulse zipping into light speed. My God, it took nothing at all for this desire to spiral out of control. She should have known it would.

“Mmm, and I can think of so many ways to test your ability to get even with me.” He turned her in his arms, his slick skin hot against hers. Part of it was the natural heat of the spring, and part was the desire between them.

Genie wrapped her arms and legs around him, feeling suddenly reckless and full of joy.

“You are welcome to try, King Zafir. I relish the opportunity.”

“Do you indeed?”

In answer, she kissed him, urgently tangling her tongue with his. Zafir responded as she'd hoped, groaning and squeezing her to him. His hands wandered, his fingers sliding around her bottom, down to the vee of her legs. He stroked her center lightly and she rocked against him, trying to make him go faster.

He only laughed low in his throat, however. Genie reached
for him, wrapped her hand around his hard length and squeezed. His laugh turned to a moan.

She broke the kiss, trailed her tongue down his throat, his chest—and then she sank beneath the water and took him in her mouth. His thigh muscles tightened and she could feel the sharp intake of his breath where one of her hands rested against his abdomen.

The other stroked him while she swirled her tongue around his length. Soon, however, he grabbed her and hauled her up.

“I could have held my breath for another minute,” she grumbled.

“But I'm not sure I could have held mine,” he said. “I declare you the winner of this round, because I am now unwilling to wait.”

He took her by the waist and lifted her from the pool. Then he leapt out beside her and hauled her over to one of the cushioned divans that lined the sides of the chamber. “This is much more comfortable,” he murmured, following her down.

There were no preliminaries. There was no need. Genie wrapped her legs around him as he sank into her. Her head tilted back, her eyes closing tight as the bliss of his possession threatened to overwhelm her. “Zafir,” she gasped.

His lips were on her throat, her jaw, her breasts.

“I cannot get enough of you, Genie,” he said, almost brokenly. “The more I have, the more I want.”

And then he was thrusting into her, hard and fast, hurtling her toward the abyss. She welcomed it, wanted it, craved it—

Suddenly she was there, crying out his name and wondering how it was possible to feel this way with only one person in the whole world. To feel as if you needed this to live, as if you would die if you didn't have it.

It was beautiful and heartbreaking all at once. She was in love with a man she could never have. Even if she gave up everything and moved to Bah'shar to be with him she would only have stolen moments of bliss like this one.

And that wasn't nearly enough.

Z
AFIR'S
brain had dissolved along with his sense. He rolled from her body, belatedly remembering as he came back to earth that he'd forgotten to use a condom. Icy cold fear dripped down his spine in spite of the heat in the room. How could he be so stupid?

How could he risk such a thing?

Because this was Genie, and she excited him, made him forget everything but the urge to join himself with her. She always had, though she'd been on the pill when they were at university. He prayed that was still the case.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, his tone sharper than he'd intended.

She blinked at him, her expression confused. And then it cleared. Horror was not the emotion he'd hoped to see. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, her skin still flushed from sex and dripping with water from the pool.

“I am, but I haven't had a pill in two days now. All my things were in the camp…”

Zafir swore.

“It's the wrong time of the month, though. I'm sure of it.”

“If there is a baby, I want to know,” he ordered. “I will provide for him, never fear, so there is no need to terminate the pregnancy.”

Her lovely face clouded. When it cleared, anger was the dominant emotion. “Of course I would tell you, Zafir. What kind of person do you think I am?”

He thought of Layla, of her deception, and his jaw tightened. “You are a professional woman. Perhaps you would decide that a baby was too much of a burden for you.”

“It wouldn't be easy, I grant you. But if there were a child, it would be ours. And I would want it.”

She looked so fierce that he believed her. The relief winding through him was stronger than he would have believed possible. And he felt a sudden need to explain, to share with her what he'd never told anyone else.

“My second wife aborted our child. She did not tell me she was pregnant.”

Genie's eyes widened. “I'm so sorry, Zafir. You must have been very upset.”

“I was. Layla felt she was too young to start a family, though she failed to share this belief with me.”

She had also been worried about her figure, her shopping trips abroad, and her social events, where she was determined to be the most elegant hostess anyone in Bah'shar had ever seen. When she'd gone to Europe for the abortion he'd thought she was going on another shopping trip. He'd only found out because she'd been stupid enough to use a credit card and he'd opened the bill before she could intercept it. The moment when he'd realized what the charge was for had been like a sucker punch to the gut.

Genie put her arms around him and squeezed. He fell back on the cushions with her, his heart hammering with fear, and turned his head toward her, breathed in the sweet, clean scent of her hair.

She smelled like home, felt like home. He could think of nothing better than watching her grow big with his child. Nothing better than having her in his bed every night.

“I'm sure there's nothing to worry about,” she said softly, “but if I'm wrong, this is your child too. We'll figure out what comes next when we have to.”

“Yes, we'll figure it out,” he replied on a sigh of weariness. It had been a long, long day.

He closed his eyes. What he needed right now was sleep. And he needed to be here with this woman.

It felt right.

He was drifting off when she whispered in his ear, “Sleep, Zafir.”

She said something else, but he wasn't quite certain what it was.

Right before he fell asleep, he realized what it had sounded like:
I love you.

 

Sometime in the night they got chilled and moved into the bedroom, burrowing beneath the thick covers on the bed. Genie lay in the dark, listening to Zafir's deep breathing. She was in so much trouble here. In two days' time her life had been turned inside out by the past she'd tried to forget.

She still loved him, and she couldn't deny it. And, though she really didn't believe she could fall pregnant, the slight chance had her mind working overtime. What would happen if she had his baby?

He'd said he would provide for their child. But he wasn't going to offer to marry her. He was the King of Bah'shar and he could never do so.

But would he be a part of their child's life? Or would he, like her father, be absent and distant?

Genie didn't believe Zafir would ignore their child on purpose. He would not be like her father. But his royal duties and his future wife—because, yes, a king needed legitimate heirs—would most likely keep him away.

Genie shifted in the bed, trying to shove her tumultuous thoughts away. There was nothing to worry about
yet
. She would cross that bridge when she reached it. “Can't sleep?”

“Not well,” she admitted. “You?”

“I was sleeping fine, but you kept moving.”

“Sorry.”

She heard him yawn. “You are worried about being pregnant?”

“I was thinking about it, yes. But I don't really believe it will happen.”

“You will not have to worry, Genie.”

“No, but I think I'll have to worry every day of my life if there's a child. That's just what mothers do.” She turned toward him on the bed, propped herself on an elbow. “I'm sorry about what happened with your second wife, Zafir.”

“It was a long time ago.”

She bit her lip, decided to proceed. “What happened in your first marriage?”

Zafir did not pretend to misunderstand what she was asking him. He let out a deep sigh. “Jasmin had difficulty conceiving. When she did conceive, she couldn't carry past the first trimester.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“There were three miscarriages. She was depressed, though I did not realize it, and she swallowed pills. It is my fault she died. I should have forced her into treatment.”

Sadness ripped through her. “How could you know she would do such a thing?”

“I should have known. She was impulsive, and she made threats. I didn't take her seriously until I came home late and found her unconscious.” He sighed into the darkness. “I wasn't supposed to be late that day. I think she wanted to be found, that it was a cry for help. But I failed her.”

My God.
Genie's eyes filled with tears. How could he take such a burden on himself? But she already knew the answer: he was a good man who took his duty seriously, be it the duty of a king or a husband. Or even a lover.

“If there's one thing I learned growing up,” she said very softly, “it's that we aren't responsible for the actions of others. My mother and I both suffered because she wouldn't—or couldn't—get herself out of the situation with my father, but that wasn't my fault. It took me a long time to understand that.”

“I knew Jasmin was unstable. I should have realized she would eventually go through with her threats.”

Genie grasped his hand in hers. It was big, warm, and he
squeezed his fingers closed around her hand. The grip was firm, reassuring, but not too hard. A wave of love and longing rocked through her.

“No one is to blame but her, Zafir. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but she is responsible for making that choice, not you.”

“If I'd been home when expected—”

“You could have stopped her that time, but what about the next? Maybe she could have been helped with treatment, but there are no guarantees. You're wrong to blame yourself.”

He pulled her hand to his lips. “You have grown wise, Dr. Gray. Thank you for your words, though I am certain I will always feel guilty about what happened.”

“That's your right, Zafir.” It made her sad that he would take so much on himself, and sad for his poor wife. It also made her feel badly for resenting Jasmin for so long. She'd been caught up in the marital politics of her people as much as Zafir had been. And producing an heir had no doubt been paramount to that marriage. When she hadn't been able to do so, she must have felt so desperate.

Genie burrowed in closer, wrapped her arms around him. Her heart was a lost cause and it did no good to try and keep her distance. She would take whatever time she had with him while it lasted.

He stroked the skin of her bare back, his fingers dipping farther and farther down her spine each time. Liquid heat filled her veins, but she would not act on it. This was about comfort, not sex.

Until he shifted and she realized he was fully aroused. “Wait a minute,” he said, leaving the bed and then returning before she'd had a chance to miss his heat. She heard the rip of foil, and then he was on top of her, pressing inside her slick body while she moaned her pleasure to the heavens above.

 

They'd had a few days of bliss, but Zafir knew it would have to end. The problem was that he didn't want to let her go. That having her here seemed like the most important thing in the world. With Genie in his life, his bed, his heart, he faced each
day with the determination and strength he needed to make Bah'shar better than ever.

She made this life that had been thrust upon him make sense. He'd married twice, out of duty, but he'd never felt as if he'd had a connection with either of his wives. Why did he feel this connection with a woman he could never have?

He could never ask her to give up her life for him—not now. She was a professional, successful woman. And he was still required to marry and produce heirs for the throne.

But why couldn't he marry
her
? She could still do her work, and she would come home to him each night. She'd said the temples could take years…

“Your Majesty?”

Zafir shook himself. The men gathered around the conference table were staring at him.

“Please repeat that,” he said smoothly. The meeting continued, and Zafir worked to concentrate on what was being said. After nearly fifteen minutes of circular logic, his mind drifted once more.

He couldn't stop picturing Genie in a traditional Bah'sharan bridal gown.

Though Bah'sharan law did not allow for a foreign wife who was not a princess, the law was old and could be changed. It had been meant to protect the throne from overthrow, but that was not so much an issue in today's world.

It wouldn't be easy, and there would no doubt be much grumbling and arguing amongst his ministers, but changing the code
was
possible. The idea galvanized him.

Raised voices brought him sharply back to the present. Sheikh Abu Bakr had gone to stand by a window with his back to the group. Sheikh Hassan sat with his arms crossed and a militant expression on his face. Zafir's ministers looked exasperated.

Zafir had had enough for now.

“Let us take a break,” he interjected. “I will return in an hour's time, and I expect you all to be here, ready to talk.”

He stood. Everyone in the room shot to their feet and bowed.
Zafir turned and strode out the door. There was just enough time to see Genie, maybe have a little lunch with her. He wouldn't tell her about his idea just yet. It was too new, and he was still too uncertain it was the correct path. His heart believed it was, but his head needed time to adjust.

There was a shortcut to the harem and he took it, passing down long dark corridors that were rarely used anymore. He was excited about the idea of changing the code, about talking Genie into marrying him and staying in Bah'shar, but he was torn as well. Though it felt like the best solution for him personally, was it best for his people? For his nation?

As he passed a dark alcove, a sharp pain sliced across his arm. Zafir spun as something flashed silver in the dim light. All his senses were on high alert as the assassin's knife descended again.

“Die, traitor,” a voice breathed as the knife plunged home.