The Sheikh’s Pretend Fiancée Read online

  “Turn around,” he said hoarsely. “Model it for me.”

  She stood at a crossroads. If she had any sense, she’d grab her own clothes and flee. If she turned around, they wouldn’t be flirting anymore. They’d go tumbling headfirst into chaos.

  Messy, messy, chaos.

  Slowly blowing out her breath, she reached under and tucked her thumbs under the waistline of her panties. Bending over, she inched the last of her defenses down her legs. The air touched her bare cheeks, and she heard him inhale sharply.

  She didn’t hear him move. As soon as she turned around, she saw he was out of the chair and inches from her. With a small gasp, she stumbled back toward the glass window, but it wasn’t from fright. Even as he reached for her, she parted her legs for him.

  His lips skimmed over hers as he lifted the hem and deftly slipped a single finger inside her. “Why do you hide your beauty when you are this perfect?" he asked her with a groan. There was no hiding her arousal now that his fingers were stroking her. "Are you all mine?"

  "For a time," she replied breathily. She wanted to be cool and seductive, but all she could think about was screaming for more.

  He drew closer, and his breath caressed her ear, "Haven't you read the fine print? I reserved the option to buy."

  Her back was pressed against the cold glass, but her skin was on fire. There was no possibility of logical thought as his mouth plundered hers. No one had ever kissed her like that. Dominated. Controlled. Her body was nothing more than a puppet for him to play with—and she desperately wanted him to play.

  The fabric of the dress rose higher against her thighs as she lifted one leg to curve around his.

  He tore himself away from her mouth and pressed his lips to her throat. “Say my name,” he demanded as he pressed a finger to her engorged clit.

  Her whole body shuddered as pleasure shot through her, and she cried out his name.

  “Tell me you want this,” he said roughly. Removing his hand, he cupped her cheeks and lifted her until her pussy rubbed against the straining cock in his pants. He lifted her higher until he could slide his tongue over the lace covering her nipples.

  “Asad, please,” she hissed as she jerked against him. “I want this, I want you. Fuck me.”

  Just like that, the foreplay was over. In her haze of need and desire, she barely felt him move as he freed his cock. One second, his tongue was dragging over her nipple, and the next, he was driving into her.

  It had been so long. Pain mixed with pleasure, and he froze, buried to the hilt and panting hard. She could see the strain of control in his face, but she didn’t want control. “No,” she growled. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  Bucking against him, she forced him to move, and then control was gone. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. She had no idea how long he fucked her, driving her upward until she barely had the breath to scream—but she shattered, and the only sound she could hear was his name, ripped from her lips.

  One. Two. Three strokes. He cried out furiously as he jerked within her, and it seemed to take forever before she finally fell back to earth.

  8

  There was no snuggling in his arms that night. In fact, Asad barely said a word to Liyah as she rose and escaped to her own room. Her body still shuddered in the aftermath of his lovemaking—not that she could even call it lovemaking. That was nothing short of soul-shattering lust, and it was nothing like her fantasies.

  It had been better.

  Part of her was ashamed that she’d given in so easily. Even her inner logic had failed to urge her to say no, and now everything between them was different. She couldn’t imagine that he’d run hot and cold after this. Most likely, he’d choose one or the other.

  He was gone the next morning, leaving nothing more than a short note saying that he was away on business, and he stayed gone for three days.

  Not once did he call.

  When he did return, he was wired. He paced the hardwood floors, his phone in his hand, unaware that she was watching him. It was like watching a predator, a wildcat, stalking with the refined grace of his sleek body and a strange sense of passion fueling his every deliberate move. But when she opened the door and stepped back, he froze and stared at her. “I didn’t realize that you were home.”

  Liyah tried not to take offense. “Did the ploy work?” she asked, even as she tried not to betray her hurt. “I assume that you were away with your investors.”

  “It is working. They’ve agreed to fund the money.”

  “Good. Then this will all be over soon, and you can have your privacy back.”

  Asad murmured her name, but she pretended that she didn’t hear. Instead, she headed out of his suite and to the library, where she could drown herself in the fictitious lives of others and forget all about Asad.

  It didn’t work all that well.

  The next two days, it felt like she was living in someone else’s body. Asad didn’t abandon her again, but he also didn’t seem to see her. He treated her as though she were made of porcelain, ready to shatter at any minute. Every word he spoke seemed deliberately chosen, every step made to keep his distance from her.

  It was perfectly professional, but after that night, with herself pressed between his body and the window, him dragging breathy moans out of her as he stroked her innermost heat, the appropriate conversations were nothing more than an act.

  He seemed to refuse to treat her as a lover, but he couldn’t even bring himself to treat her as a person. She hated every single second of it, but she needed the money, and she was afraid of what he might say if she lashed out.

  That it had been a mistake. That he didn’t enjoy her nearly as much as she had enjoyed him.

  That it was beneath him.

  The days turned into a week, and Liyah slowly started to suffocate.

  “We have an engagement to attend,” Asad told her one morning, watching her with a carefully guarded gaze. For the past week, he’d had no idea what to do with her. It had taken all of his self-control not to grab her and ravish her again, but part of him feared that she would shatter in his arms. He’d simply wanted to show her that she was a desirable woman, that she didn’t have to hide herself, and instead, he’d completely dominated her. It had been an embarrassing lack of control on his part, and he thought she might hate him for it.

  “What kind of engagement?” she asked in a dull tone.

  “There is a private gallery showing this evening, a collection of some of Arabia’s finest treasures. I thought you might enjoy it.”

  “Are your investors going to be there?”

  “Yes.”

  Gripping her coffee cup, she nodded her head. “So, this is just another chance to show me off.”

  “It is why I hired you,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, it is. So you don’t have to pretend that any of this is for my benefit. I’ll consult with Amira on what I should wear. When should I be ready?”

  There was an anger in her voice that he hadn’t anticipated, and he knew that he’d read the situation wrong. She wasn’t scared of him.

  She was pissed.

  “Liyah.”

  “When should I be ready?” she snapped again coldly.

  “Eight.”

  “Then at eight, you will find your dutiful bride-to-be waiting for you. Until then, I’ll be out exploring the gardens. Excuse me.”

  As she stalked past him, she seemed to take the air in the room with her. His heart slammed against his chest. For the first time in Asad didn’t know how long, he had no idea what to do with a woman.

  Several hours later, she was dressed in a beautiful shimmery pink cocktail dress. Despite the amount of time she’d spent outside, her complexion was still soft and creamy, but she was beginning to show that sun-kissed glow. There was nothing to hide the curves that had fit so well into his hands the other night, and he ached to have her.

  “I’m ready,” she announced casually—as if she had no idea what she was doing to him.
/>   He found that he couldn’t say anything to her that wouldn’t lead to him bending her over and tasting every inch of her exposed skin as well as exploring the secrets she hid underneath, so he stayed silent as he escorted her out the door.

  The silence during the ride was chilly.

  “Anything that I should know?” Her voice was calm and cool, quite as if she did this kind of thing all the time. There was almost no hint of the shy woman he’d first seen in the lounge, stumbling over herself. He didn’t know if it meant that she was getting comfortable around him or if she was simply too angry with him.

  “You didn’t get a chance to meet Bashar at Rashid’s party, but he’s the biggest influence among the investors. What he does, they’ll follow. He’s one of my father’s oldest friends. He’ll most likely speak to you tonight and try to judge our relationship.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said stiffly. “I’ll put on a good show for you.”

  He didn’t want her to put on a show. He wanted her to be real and genuine. Be herself. Naked, in his arms, no masks, and no surprises.

  Word had spread of his pending marriage, and the gallery was packed with people. Asad wasn’t worried. People parted easily for him, but he knew how Liyah felt about crowds. Here, she didn’t have Amira or Khalid to turn to if she got overwhelmed.

  There was only himself.

  Wrapping his arms casually around her, he bent low to whisper into her ear. “If you need a break, tell me that you’d like a drink on the terrace. I’ll escort you out, okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” She was a soldier, preparing for war.

  “Asad!” Imran, one of the other investors, approached them at a rapid pace and clapped his hand on Asad’s back. Imran was Asad’s least favorite man. He had a tendency to be vulgar and crude, and Asad couldn’t help but push Liyah slightly behind him in an attempt to shield her.

  Imran was having none of that. “Don’t be shy,” he crowed as he reached around and grabbed Liyah’s arm. The people around them stopped and stared as the man pulled Liyah forward, putting her on display. “Let me take a look at you, my dear. Asad has been hiding you from us, but he can hide you no longer. Such lovely curves you have. No wonder Asad has fallen under your spell.” He leaned over and whispered something in the girl’s ear, and Asad felt his anger rise as he saw her face blanch.

  He immediately pulled her out of Imran’s grasp.

  “You always did have exquisite taste,” Imran said and laughed. He stepped around Asad to get another look at Liyah but was stopped by a strong grip.

  “I believe you might be making the young woman uncomfortable,” Bashar said quietly, but his tone held a warning. “Perhaps you should go and see to your own wife.”

  Imran looked almost angry, but he bowed his head. “My apologies. It’s just that this moment is a rare treat. Asad has a habit of discarding beautiful women, so naturally, we’re all surprised to see the one who’s made him stay.”

  Ashamed that he’d brought her out in public only to have her treated with such disdain, Asad turned to Liyah, but her face was nearly void of expression. It was almost as if she’d retreated inside herself. “Would you like a drink?” he said hoarsely.

  “I believe that’s an excellent idea.” Bashar stepped forward. “Why don’t you get her some champagne, and I’ll show your lovely bride-to-be my own contribution to the collection. We’ll be in the south wing.”

  Asad was hesitant to leave Liyah alone, but he knew that she’d be in good hands with Bashar. Giving her one last look to see if she was okay, he escaped into the crowd.

  “Imran has always been a horrible little man,” Bashar said warmly as he guided Liyah through the crowd. “I’m sure you’re hesitant to leave Asad’s side, but he needs some time to cool down.”

  “He didn’t look particularly angry,” Liyah muttered before remembering that not only was she supposed to be in love with Asad, but she was supposed to woo the very man standing next to her.

  “Asad doesn’t lose his temper easily, and when he does, it’s more of a tactical strike. I’ve known him all of his life, so I recognized the warning signs. You did quite well. It is important that you stand by his side, even in the ugliest of situations. The Sharif family has enemies, and one day, you and Asad will have to face them together. The most powerful families in Dubai sometimes enjoy tearing each other apart.”

  Almost like Asad’s own family. She mentally shook away the thought and put on the most charming smile she could manage.

  “I appreciate the tour,” she said, trying to muster some enthusiasm. The gold statues, stunning pieces of jewelry, and magnificent paintings were indeed impressive, but after being put on display as if she were part of the collection, they seemed to lose their mystery.

  “Most women are enamored with the expensive trinkets,” he said dryly. “You are obviously not like most women. Tell me what you think of our city?”

  This was a question that Liyah could answer honestly. “I was actually here five years ago as part of an exchange-student program. The mesh of cultures, the artistic souls, the loyalty and warmth of the people—it’s one of the most amazing things I have ever experienced. I can honestly say that even if Asad had not come into my life, I would have returned. How can a person stay away? The romance of the city leaves the rest of the world barren in comparison.”

  Bashar raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a description. You make our home sound simply astounding.”

  “It is.”

  “And do you approve of the Sharif brothers’ need to continue to build on it? These condos of Asad’s and that coliseum of Rashid’s . . .”

  “You’re against it? I was told that you were one of the primary investors.”

  “I am, but I have my doubts. Like you, I see the romance of the city, and I’ve seen first hand what rapid expansion can do to a city. I’m afraid that these young souls see only opportunity.”

  Liyah needed to choose her next words carefully and balance her own love of the city with her need to support Asad. “I believe that Dubai is welcoming enough to expand and open its doors without losing the soul that makes it so unique, and I also believe that if its people become afraid that Dubai will lose its originality, they will make a stand.”

  A slow smile curved over the older man’s face. “Perhaps I was wrong about you. Perhaps you’ll be good for him, after all.”

  Liyah wasn’t brave enough to ask what he meant by that.

  That evening, back in their suite, Asad seemed reluctant to let her go. He loosened a few of the top buttons of his shirt and sprawled in a chair with his drink in hand, looking like the lustful playboy Imran had painted him to be.

  “Join me, if you please.”

  His request was polite, but Liyah knew it was more of a demand. She agreed—but only if she could change out of the dress first. Despite loving the expensive threads, it did nothing but remind her of the dresses that she had tried on for Asad. They were hidden in the back of her closet, and there they would stay.

  When she returned, he stood at the sleekly cut marble bar. Pouring some expensive cognac into a pattern-cut fogged glass, he pulled out a small chiller to set the bottle in before handing her the drink.

  “What did you think of Bashar?” he asked, his expression intent.

  “Did you ask me to stay to unwind or to interview me about your investor?” she asked staunchly, even though she already knew the answer.

  He didn’t even blink an eye. “I knew you would never sleep without a chance to relax and vent, but I am interested in what the two of you spoke about while I was gone.”

  “Dubai, mostly. I think you’re mistaken about why he was so hesitant to invest in you. It’s not your youth—but what he fears about what you want for the city. He’s in love with the old soul of Dubai, and he does not want to see it so built up that people are crammed into tiny boxes stacked on top of each other.”

  She looked up from her drink to see the shock in his eyes. “Does he really th
ink so little of us?”

  “With the competition between you and Rashid, it’s no wonder,” she said with a shrug. “It would seem that your reputation means more to you than the city.”

  “You can’t move past that, can you? Is your family so wonderful and warm that you can’t tolerate a little competition between brothers?”

  Annoyed, she propped her feet up on his expensive ottoman and sipped her drink. Her bare toes wiggled as she spoke. “My family consisted of a single mother who had to work so hard that I barely saw her as I was growing up. She had only two desires in her life. To make more money and my undying affection. When those jobs never seemed to make ends meet, she smothered me. When she realized that, as an adult, I was pulling away in an attempt to discover my own path, she went and married the next man who batted his eyes at her. He’s a narcissistic pompous ass who will never give her the love she deserves, but she was too distraught over my decision not to move back in with her to see it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “So you chose to return to Dubai because we’re so warm and friendly here?”

  “I came to Dubai because I consider my exchange-mother and sister to be my family. They’ve always embraced me as I am and encouraged me to find my happiness. It’s a warmth that I don’t think I’ve ever felt. I love my mother, but I was never a daughter to her. Not really. I was just someone who could love her when she could never seem to love herself.”

  “I see.” He swirled his drink quietly “And you think that I am not appreciating the family that I have?”

  “I think your competition with Rashid is so out of control that even your investors are talking about it—and questioning me,” she responded coldly.

  “If anyone asks, my family is tight-knit, warm, and the competition is nothing more than friendly banter. We have always looked out for each other, and we always will. The media has eyes and ears everywhere, so you must be careful in what you say.”