Darker Side of Desire & the Sheikh's Pregnant Prisoner(50)

Determination pulsed in his very expression. “They will accept me and you and our child. I left them no other choice.”

And in that moment, Lauren realized how many of his own demons this man had faced, still faced, every day. How honorably he did his duty by those very people who constantly questioned his rule.

The powerful arrogance in his words had unbalanced her, rubbed her raw more times than she could count but it was the only way he knew, the only way he could rule.

It was the only way he had taken what was his. And she understood it just as she understood the sense of isolation around him.

The light behind him outlined his wide shoulders, the leanly sculpted chest clad in dark blue, and tapered waist and those tough, hard legs encased in jeans. Lauren blinked at the swirling possessiveness, the almost atavistic urge that filled her to mark this proud man as hers.

To make sure the world knew that he was hers and hers alone.

One hand on her shoulder, he’d swiped a tear from her cheek. “You didn’t want to have this conversation any more than I did, did you?”

There was no hesitation in her body’s response to him even as her mind sometimes resisted him. She swayed toward him, seeking the cocoon of his embrace. He held her lightly, the warmth of his body a teasing caress.

She sniffled and swallowed her tears. “No.”

Tipping her chin, he’d studied her. Then his frown turned into an outright scowl. “Your phone call with your mother…that’s where this began.”

She shrugged.

“Are they coming to the wedding?”

“No.”

“That’s what upset you?”

“No, I had a feeling that would be their answer.” And she had known.

The disappointment, the loneliness, they were all lessons she had learned after years of silent tears and bitterness but in the end, she had learned to deal with it.

Had poured everything she had into caring for those who could barely afford medical care, to serve people who didn’t call her needy, or emotional.

High school and college graduation, her twenty-first birthday, the day she had received her first job offer…she had done fine without her parents at all the milestones of her life. She would do fine this time, too.

Acknowledging that had always given her a sense of control back and it did now. Forcing a smile, she met Zafir’s gaze. “Let’s just chalk up this episode to hormones, please.”

Instead of being relieved that she was giving him an out, he had frowned. “You hide the fact that she hurt you? Just from me or yourself, too?”

Her spine straightened, a defensive gesture that was coded into her blood. “I’m not hiding anything. And it’s true. It’s the hormones and this huge wedding that have just made me more susceptible.”

“So she’s not only not coming for her daughter’s wedding but she planted all that nonsense in your head, knowing of your condition and that you’re all alone here?”

She nodded, awed at how easily he had surmised the situation. “Something like that. But it’s not her fault, Zafir.” She didn’t even know why she was defending her mom. “She’s always been the pragmatic type—”

“Of course, it is her fault, Lauren. I’m glad she’s not coming to the wedding, or she would have numerous occasions to upset you.

“In fact, I think you should not see her ever again. I will order the state secretary to inform your parents that their invitation to visit Behraat has been rescinded.”

“What?” Lauren didn’t know where to begin. “First of all, you can’t just rescind an invitation, Zafir. That smacks of arrogance.”

“I’m the ruler of Behraat. I’m entitled to arrogance.”

Her mouth twitched, her breath went all wonky from trying not to laugh. She wanted to kiss him for making her laugh so easily. And she had a feeling he had intended it. But she refused to be railroaded into anything, even though she was never going to discuss her marriage with her mother ever again.

She sighed, realizing she had to fight his autocratic dictate for the principle of it.

“Second, you can’t just decide that I won’t ever see her again. Or anyone else for that matter.”

“Why would you want to? It is clear that they care little for your happiness and well-being. And you’re not in a condition to deal with stress like this. Nor will you while I have something to say about it.”

“They’re still my parents, Zafir. Your father didn’t even tell you you were his son until he needed a better crown prince. And yet, here you are, doing everything you can to hold Behraat together by its seams.”

She thought he would get furious with her for bringing up that subject. At the least, tell her she wasn’t allowed to bring it up. Or withdraw.

Instead, he seemed thoughtful. And that he let her in just that much made her miserable day a thousand times brighter.

“It’s ingrained in me, in my very blood that I must do everything I can to ensure Behraat’s prosperity. My father needed no big gestures or promises of wealth to earn my loyalty.

“He molded me into his weapon with mere words. I’ve never met another such great orator. I would attend classes during the day, train with the palace guard in the evenings, but the nights…they had always been my favorite part of the day.

“For he would summon me to his parlor when he was ready for dinner. He would tell me stories of great battles, tales of warrior men who gave up everything for their nation, for their tribe, of armies marching into battle for freedom. And a nine-year-old boy who has no family…he begins to breathe those stories. Begs to hear one more, swears his loyalty, his very blood in exchange for one more.

“To survive, he needs to believe that he’s part of something much bigger than his concerns. In the end, there’s nothing else left of him except trying to make the tale into reality.”

A tremendous sadness filled Lauren for the boy he’d been, for the flash of raw longing she glimpsed in his eyes. And a burning rage for the man who’d so heartlessly turned him into this…this man who believed that there was nothing to him than serving Behraat.

That he was nothing more than a tool to be used for his country. That there was no reason or need for him to want for anything more.

“Zafir? Whatever you believed then, it’s—”

“It’s a conditioning I can’t defeat in this life.” Absolute, implacable, his gaze warned her to not try, his belief an impenetrable wall she couldn’t breach.

And how she ached to reach him…

“But in your case, I’m here to change it. So I forbid you from even speaking to her.”

“Forbid?” She should have been furious, yet Lauren could only laugh. Could only marvel at how easily he had turned the whole thing around on her again.

Walking around the sitting area, she poked him in the chest. “You can’t forbid me from stuff. In fact, we must remove it from our marriage dictionary. I’m going to be your wife, Zafir, not your servant.”

“Marriage dictionary?” His eyes had turned molten, humor lurking in their depths.

“Yes.” She held out her fingers and counted them, “Forbid, order, train etc. Can’t be in there.”

His gaze swept over her face, her breasts barely hidden from that overpowering male gaze in a thin, cotton henley, already feeling heavy and achy. Settled on her mouth. “Do I get to add some words to it, too? Like things I’ve begged for but was denied in those two months? Like a—”

She swatted at him, laughing and giggling, knowing how his wicked mind worked.

He sighed dramatically and every cell in her sang with dizzy joy. “What is in this dictionary then?”

“Laughter.”

She had no idea when he had moved close enough that her breasts rubbed against that hard chest. She shuddered just as a growl rumbled from his throat. “I like the sound of that, habeebti.”

She placed one hand on his chest to feel his heart and clasped his cheek with the other. “Affection. Respect.”

His arrogant head bowed as if in reverence, his shuddering exhale caressing her face. She had the strangest feeling that he was hiding his expression from her. Hard shoulders relaxed under her tentative touch. His fingers crawled around her nape then.

Finally, his molten gaze bore into her, lingering over her mouth. “Surrender?” he asked and she shook her head.

“No ‘surrender’. Comfort. Care. Friendship.”

Deep satisfaction glinting in his eyes, he rubbed his nose against hers. “Seduce?”

“No seduce. Cajole. Kiss. Need.”

He rubbed his mouth over hers, and she moaned. “I think I’m getting the gist of it, habeebti,” he whispered against her mouth.

Holding on to him because she was afraid she was melting on the inside, Lauren spoke against those soft yet thoroughly masculine lips. Evening stubble rasped her flesh, making her whimper with want. “Yeah? Try it then.”

“Marriage. Commitment. Forever.”

Just as he stole her breath with his words, so did his hot, hungry mouth on hers.

Resistance, imagined or real, was an alien concept. She might have squeaked at the influx of such delirious pleasure and he took that opportunity to swirl his wicked tongue around hers.

Her heart was still racing from the promise in his words, her belly tightening with such fierce feeling she thought she might burst with it.