The Sheikh's Fake Courtship (Halabi Sheikhs Book 2) Page 6

  Raina’s pulse picked up, a giddy excitement joining with her nerves. Chadil was holding her so close she could feel him breathing. He spun her around, and she was back in Rome, tearing his shirt off as he pinned her to the wall. She blinked the image away, but Chadil’s cheek brushed hers. Raina closed her eyes, her lips burning as though he’d kissed her.

  “Focus,” she muttered, and she felt Chadil’s laugh, a low vibration in his chest.

  “You’re doing fine,” he said. “Just try to relax. Pretend we’re alone, if it helps.”

  Raina tried, but the harder she concentrated, the stiffer she got. She felt trapped in her body, two legs like sandbags and a spine like a poker. Her foot bumped Chadil’s, and she gasped an apology.

  “It’s fine. You’re just thinking too much. Try feeling the music instead.”

  The tune changed to something lively, up-tempo, and Raina pulled away. “Uh-uh. That slow song was bad enough. Let’s sit this one out, wait for something more—”

  “Wait.” Chadil gripped her shoulders, holding her in place. “Do you trust me?”

  “I do. I do, but...” She eyed the other dancers. Their footwork seemed complicated, a series of steps and feints that set her head spinning.

  “Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

  Raina’s breath caught in her throat, but she did.

  “Now put your left foot forward; now pull it back.”

  She did, and Chadil moved with her, drawing her close, then retreating.

  “Move your right foot behind you and turn to your left.”

  Raina slid her foot back and Chadil did the rest, sweeping her into an elegant turn. She laughed, high and nervous, and turned pink at her outburst.

  “That’s perfect.” Chadil let go of her hand. “Now look away from me, over your shoulder.”

  Raina looked away. Lights whirled around her as Chadil spun her out. For one reeling moment, she was sure she was falling, then he pulled her back in, cradling her to his chest.

  “Back with your left foot—now follow with your right. And right, one-two; to me, one-two...”

  Raina obeyed, following his movements more than his voice. The quicker beat helped—less time to overthink—and Chadil led well, guiding her with gentle certainty. When she looked up, he was smiling, warmth radiating from his gaze.

  “You’re a natural,” he said, though she was certain she wasn’t. “It’s fun, right?”

  She opened her mouth to protest but found herself agreeing. Maybe fun wasn’t the word, but she felt protected in his arms. He guided her as though he’d been born to it, and he shielded her from the crowd, keeping his own body between her and the other dancers. When her feet bumped his, he altered his steps to match. When she stumbled into his arms, he embraced her as if he’d meant to all along. Soon, Raina settled into the steps, and they weren’t so complicated after all. Chadil spun her again, and this time, she leaned into it, closing her eyes as he caught her.

  The dance came to an end, and they stood in a bubble of stillness, the shelter of the silence between songs. Chadil raised her hand and kissed it, murmuring under his breath.

  “That’s what the two of us can do together.”

  The blood rushed to Raina’s cheeks. Chadil led her to a low couch, and each couple they passed on their way nodded and smiled in a different way than before, as if they’d seen and approved of their dance. All eyes were on them, the court of Al-Mifadhir acknowledging their royal couple. Her knees went wobbly, but Chadil’s arm under her hand gave her strength.

  “We’re a hit,” Chadil said and drew her onto the couch next to him. “How do you feel?”

  Raina beamed. “Wonderful.” She laughed, a little unsteadily. “I have no idea how we looked, but right at the end, it felt like flying. Like my feet weren’t touching the floor.”

  “That’s how it’s supposed to feel.” An odd look crossed Chadil’s face, there and gone in an instant, but before Raina could question him, Bas strode up. He bowed to Raina, then turned to Chadil.

  “A lovely first dance, but might I borrow you a moment?”

  Raina smiled—go ahead—and Chadil took his leave. She leaned back and watched the crowd, heart still racing from the dance. Danny and Edlyn were conferring near the stage, chuckling at some private joke. Fiona was making the rounds, greeting each guest like the dearest of friends. Zenab was dancing with an older gentleman, a slow and stately number, graceful in a way Raina might never match.

  The rest of the evening flew by in a blur. Chadil returned, and he and Raina were in constant demand, fielding an endless stream of questions and congratulations and invitations. Everyone wanted them at their dinner parties and gallery openings, horse races and polo tournaments. Chadil thanked each one without making any promises, sending the last of them on his way as the orchestra wound down for the night.

  “I’ll never sleep after this,” he said, throwing open a window to let in the night air. “It’s the adrenaline—it’s like a tightrope act, making each person feel like they’re your favorite.”

  “If it’s an act, you deserve an Oscar.” Raina moved to join him. “You kept me calm, too. Every time I felt lost, there you were, with just the right thing to say.”

  “I could say the same for you.” His knuckles brushed hers. “You’ve been everything I could’ve asked for and more.” He stepped back from the window, and that strange look was back in his eye. “May I walk you back to your suite?”

  “Of course.” Raina took his arm, and she couldn’t help but notice how he picked up his pace as they left the ballroom behind. He hardly spoke as they cut across the garden, coming up on her suite via the patio.

  “Well. Here we are.” He took a step back without letting go of her hand.

  “Home sweet home.” Raina leaned back to admire the night sky. “So many stars,” she said, and Chadil’s grip tightened.

  “Rome never happened, remember?”

  “Or we never left it.” Raina licked her lips, nervous. Chadil’s eyes turned dark.

  “Stella,” he whispered.

  “David.” She pushed the door open and backed inside. Chadil followed as though in a trance, never once looking back.

  “We shouldn’t,” he said, but he closed the French door and drew the curtains behind him. He pulled her tight to his chest. His hands ran down her body, exploring her curves. He stroked her hair and twined his fingers in it, tilting her head back for a kiss. Their lips met, and Raina moaned. She’d waited so long for this, Chadil back in her arms, his heart pounding in time with hers. He kissed her again, and she kissed back, her whole body thrilling to his touch.

  “We really shouldn’t,” said Chadil, and he turned her to face the mirror. He held her close as he trailed his fingers down her chest to her hips, gathered her skirts in his fist and pulled them up to reveal the lace tops of her stockings. He ran a nail up her thigh, stopping just short of her panty line.

  “Don’t stop.” She took his hand in hers and moved it higher. Chadil thumbed her clit through her panties. His breath came quick and rough, hot little puffs in her ear.

  “I want you,” he growled, but Raina didn’t need him to tell her. His desire pressed into her back, and his pulse thrummed against her own throat as he leaned in to nip her ear. “Mia Stella.”

  “My David.” She turned to steal another kiss. Chadil’s hand snaked behind her, unzipping her dress in one smooth motion. It rustled to the floor, leaving her in slip and stockings.

  “Beautiful,” he said. He bent and took her nipple between his teeth, coaxing it to hardness through the silk. Raina arched against him, weak-kneed with the sensation. He backed her toward the bed and swept her legs out from under her, sending her tumbling into the pillows. She laughed as he followed her down, gasped as he tore her slip from bodice to hem.

  “Revenge for my shirt.”

  “Better watch out for this one.” Raina plucked at his buttons, but Chadil took over, shedding his shirt in record time. He brushed his lips a
long her collarbone, then ventured lower, setting her panting with anticipation.

  “Another favor I thought I’d repay...” He hooked a finger under her panties and tugged them down. Raina clutched at the sheets as his lips grazed her thigh, higher and higher, sending shivers down her spine. She cried out as he found her heat, threw her head back as he teased her. He circled her clit without touching it, his hot breath a promise of things to come.

  “Chadil...”

  “David,” he corrected. He did something, then, Raina wasn’t sure what, and a helpless moan burst from her lips. She closed her eyes and saw stars, bucked her hips without meaning to and whimpered as the sensation intensified. She bit her tongue on a scream—this was meant to be a secret. It wouldn’t do to wake the palace, even if she felt like she might burst.

  “That’s—that’s—”

  “Shh.” Chadil slipped a finger inside her, then another, and she shattered like glass, burying her face in the pillow as she crashed over the edge. Chadil kept going, and Raina held on for dear life, one peak following another as he worked her without mercy. At last, she couldn’t breathe, and the world narrowed to just him, and only then did he back off, wriggling up to lie beside her.

  “You’re—” She closed her eyes, dizzy. “You’re just good at everything, aren’t you?”

  “The important things, I hope.” He angled in for a kiss, a quick one on the corner of her mouth, and Raina snuggled closer.

  “I could stay like this all night.”

  “We could if you wanted.” Chadil ran a finger down her side, making her hair stand on end. “Or I could kiss you here.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Or here...” He moved down to her breast, flicking her nipple with his tongue.

  Raina rolled onto her side. She kissed him back lazily, still weak from her climax. “I wouldn’t object,” she said. “I might even beg for it.”

  It was Chadil’s turn to shudder. He stiffened and groaned as her hand found his cock, and he rolled on top of her, stealing another kiss. There was an urgency to his touch, a barely restrained roughness that had her arching against him, eager for more. She cried out at the first thrust, his name tumbling from her lips without thought.

  He closed his eyes and moved faster, and she found herself mesmerized by his expression, the slight part of his lips, the furrow between his eyes. His breath came in quick bursts, much like her own, and she laid a hand on his chest to feel the pounding of his heart. She could feel a matching pulse within herself, a building thrum between her legs, and she bit her lip to kill her moans.

  “Mia Stella,” said Chadil. “Don’t hold back. I like it when you’re loud. When I know you can’t help it.”

  He thrust sharply, and she truly couldn’t hold it in. She turned her head to scream into her pillow, and Chadil roared with triumph. He found her hand and gripped it, his other hand exploring her body. It was almost too much, too much pleasure at once, and her cries turned to whimpers, then a soft, ragged gasp as he drove her to climax one more time.

  “Raina.” Her real name on his lips. She shivered.

  “Chadil.”

  He kissed her again, still moving inside her. He was still half-hard, and to her surprise, her desire wasn’t quenched either. She wanted more, the whole night with him, and maybe every other night after.

  10

  Chadil sipped his coffee, savoring the bitter taste. The flavor seemed sharper this morning, the breeze on his face more refreshing. He glanced through the open patio door at Raina, still sleeping peacefully, and he smiled. Last night had been better than Rome, more exciting, more intimate. He’d dropped the roleplay halfway through, whispered her real name into her hair, and his pulse picked up anew as he recalled how she’d whispered his back.

  It seemed a shame to return to reality, but he reached for his phone and powered it on. His mood frayed as the screen filled with alerts—too many alerts, and all the wrong kinds. His email was full of requests for comment. His trending hashtags dripped with malice, #princesspauper, #makeitRaina, #ladyisatramp.

  “What the hell?” He tapped the screen and an article popped up, “PRINCESS SEEKS PAYDAY–PANHANDLING PRETENDER HITS UP PALACE.” His lip curled as he skimmed the text. “Wannabe-princess Raina Mousa learned to shirk hard work early, watching her father squander the family fortune on a series of get-rich-quick schemes. Is her run at the royal family sincere, or is this her father’s latest grift?”

  A teenaged Raina smiled up at him from the screen, decked out in some kind of gaudy uniform, a red shirt and black pants with suspenders covered in shiny pins and badges. She had a tray balanced on one arm, piled high with what looked like fast food. Chadil dialed his press secretary.

  “Is there any truth to this?”

  His stomach did a slow roll as the answer crackled down the line. The story was true, all of it, from Raina’s father following her uncle to America on a sure-thing investment that went up in smoke to Raina slinging potato skins after school. Her family wasn’t just poor. They were drowning in debt, living far beyond their means, and how was he meant to spin that? They were irresponsible, dissolute—

  “Morning.” Raina drifted out to the patio, ethereal in the morning light. She sat down across from him, her hair tousled from sleep. She went for the coffee, but Chadil pulled the article back up and pushed his phone toward her instead. He watched her face as she read, watched her surprise turn to consternation, then annoyance. She scowled as she reached the end. “Well, that was unfair.”

  Chadil hung up the phone, schooling his face into a neutral expression. He took a deep breath before speaking, not wanting Raina to pick up on his anger. “Is any part of it untrue?”

  Raina looked surprised, or maybe hurt. “Untrue? Not exactly, but they’ve twisted it all around.” She tapped on the screen, just under the headline. “Like this, about Dad. Yeah, he was naïve. Yeah, he sucked at investing. But he also taught English for fifteen years. He’d still be teaching if he hadn’t had his stroke. They left all that out, like he’s been sitting around this whole time, not—” She made a frustrated sound. “It was just community college, but he won the students’ choice award three years in a row. Why isn’t that in there, or how he’d drive me to school every day, no matter what? Or the piano lessons.”

  “All these investments, though—”

  “It was one bad investment, twenty years ago. That’s where our money went. The rest, after that...he was just trying to get us back where we were.” Raina looked down, cheeks flaming. “Mom’s going to hate this. She’s the one who’s been—how’d they put it? Spending beyond our means. Trying to keep up appearances.”

  “But these debts...” Chadil shook his head. “This is worse than I was told. Far worse. I was led to believe your troubles began when your father took ill, but this is twenty years. Twenty years of bad decisions.”

  Raina looked like she might cry, but when she spoke up, she just sounded tired. “So...what? It doesn’t look great, but I am doing this for the bride price. That was always the agreement, unless something’s changed?”

  Chadil jerked back like she’d slapped him. Unless something’s changed? He’d woken up under the impression everything had changed. Had last night been one-sided, just fun for her? He drew himself up, burying his outrage.

  “Of course something’s changed,” he said. “The whole world knows. You and me, our whole courtship, this is about rehabilitating our image. Restoring the royal name. You don’t see the problem?”

  “Not really.” Raina shrugged. “I mean, aren’t you riding to my rescue, the noble prince saving his fallen sweetheart?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or is it your own reputation you’re worried about? Like they’ll think I’m the best you could do?”

  “No.” He brought his palms down on the table, the blood rushing in his ears. “How could you think that? You’re obviously—anyone would be lucky to—this isn’t about me.” Chadil’s temples throbbed with the beginnings of a headache. He blinked hard, summoning his
wits. This wasn’t the time to be drawn into an argument. He stood and paced, the better to think through the situation. “That’s good, though, your spin. I’m the rescuer, not the patsy. No one takes advantage of the Halabis, much less Al-Mifadhir. We knew. Of course we knew. I’m not courting a waitress. I’m courting the daughter of a noble family, temporarily—”

  “A waitress?” Raina pushed back from the table, setting his coffee cup rattling. “Is that what you’re so ashamed of? That I put myself through school waiting tables? Well, let me tell you, my parents might be struggling, but I’m personally debt free. In America, that’s a good thing.”

  “What? I never said—”

  “I worked my ass off. Won scholarships. What part of that says loser to you?”

  “None of it.” Chadil backed away, honestly confused. “It’s not you. It’s the optics. I need to change the conversation—”

  “How about starting with this conversation?” She wagged her finger between the two of them. “You throw this in my face, don’t even ask if I’m okay, and you expect me to, what? Do a press release? It’s not like I leaked that crap.”

  “Of course not. I just—it’s time sensitive. Right now, it’s the gossip rags. By noon, it’ll be everywhere, and if I don’t hit the right spin by then—”

  “Spin this.” She flipped him the bird and stalked away, only to pivot on her heel. “I hate that word. I hate how it’s all you think about.” Her voice cracked a little, and she clenched her fists. “I hate how it comes before me. How you still haven’t asked how I’m doing. Last night...was that anything to you?”

  Chadil’s jaw dropped. She’d been there, hadn’t she? Fallen asleep in his arms, snuggled into his chest? He hadn’t told her he loved her, but it’d been on the tip of his tongue, and if she hadn’t drifted off—

  “Well?”

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, loud and insistent. He thumbed at the screen, meaning to turn it off, but it was his press secretary again. This couldn’t be good. Raina’s eyes widened, shining with tears.