Married for the Sheikh's Duty(25)

Sheer sleeves covered her long arms, while lace panels covered her chest and neck. Demure and stylish, and yet utterly sensuous, she took his breath away. She smiled at female members of the groom’s party while her topaz gaze searched the vast hall.

The moment it touched him, genuine pleasure touched her bow-like mouth. It knocked him like a cool breeze on a hot day, fracturing something inside him wide open. He had hardly processed his own reaction, caught the answering jolt in his chest, when his cousin appeared at his table.

“Hello, Zayn.”

Zayn covered his shock at his cousin’s sudden appearance. He had known he was back in Sintar but he had been avoiding Zayn. Karim had always been snakelike, elusive and sneaky, which was why he was here today of all days.

Showing his face to Zayn here when he was busy with Mirah’s wedding and the guests almost guaranteed that Karim could sneak away without causing himself any problems. One look at his cousin’s fake smile reminded Zayn why he had never quite liked the man, even though they were of a similar age.

Suddenly now, it seemed Karim enjoyed everything—all the perks and pleasures of belonging to the royal family without any of the responsibilities and duties. An understanding that he had never resented before and yet was never far from Zayn’s mind these days...

“You arrived in Sintar ten days ago. Why take this long to show yourself?”

“I didn’t realize it was the sheikh’s summons,” Karim whined in that nasally voice.

Zayn gritted his jaw. How had he not known Amalia was right? Of course Karim had let someone else take the fall. “You were told it was official business.”

“If it is to prod me toward some state job again, I will tell you the same as I told my mother, Zayn. I’m busy with my charities and business. I do not need a job at some junior level in your administration. Neither do I—”

When his words drifted off into ether, Zayn turned to his cousin.

Karim became pale beneath his untanned skin. “What is that woman doing here?”

Zayn followed his gaze to Amalia. Who turned in their direction just then. The last fragment of doubt he’d held on to even after evidence had been found, shattered at the pale cast of his cousin’s face.

“Which hole have you been hiding in, Karim? That woman is my fiancée.”

The entire vista of Amalia’s face changed instantly. Her smile vanished and that same combative look that she had used on him those first few days entered her eyes. Alarm and amusement vied within Zayn, rendering him incapable of action for a few minutes.

She was loyal, passionate and generous, and he no longer wondered why Massimiliano had come after her or why he’d been so protective. Even with her independence and self-sufficiency, Amalia would always have that kind of effect on a man.

He sighed as she marched through the crowd toward them, a definitive set to her shoulders.

“That woman is stubborn, argumentative and a hound dog. You must be thinking with your—”

Zayn let Karim see the full force of his fury. Pounding his fists into his cousin at Mirah’s wedding, he reminded himself, was a bad idea on many levels. “Careful, Karim. She is a woman I respect and admire. Do not force me to clean up your act with my own hands.”

Karim stayed mute, a sulky light in his eyes.

“Now, you have two minutes before Amalia is here and raises the valid question of why I am not having you arrested right here, right now.”

His face was chalk-white. “Arrested for what?”

“For possession of drugs, which you conveniently passed off on her brother.”

“That’s not true. I didn’t even know her brother was—”

“I found the third man, Karim. He confessed to knowing that Aslam had nothing of that sort in his backpack. That leaves you. If you confess now, you can at least stop this from becoming a ruckus right now in front of the whole family. Even—”

“You can control your woman and stop it.”

“No, I can’t,” Zayn said, another small fissure opening up in his chest. He could not control Amalia, neither could he control this irrational, inconveniently growing attachment of his to her, it seemed.

There were too many voices crowding in his head and the fact that he wanted to smash them all into silence told him he had become far too invested in his own facade and very little in the end.

The harshness in his voice when he spoke again was self-directed as much as it was on this weak man who had brought her into Zayn’s life. “Though you deserve no such concession, I cannot shame my aunt in front of others. So leave now, and I better learn from the case detective by tonight that you have confessed your role in this.”

Whatever spurious righteousness Karim had drummed up for this meeting disappeared when he noted the set tilt of Zayn’s mouth. With no word, Karim left in the same sneaky way.

Leaning back into his chair, Zayn studied the woman rushing toward him like a sandstorm. Nothing had stayed the same since she’d marched into his life that day. Even now he felt as though he was standing on shifting sands, everything he had known in his life so far shaking in front of his eyes.

But he was Sheikh Zayn Al-Ghamdi and he had to do what was right for Khaleej, what was his duty.

Not what felt right in his gut.

His childhood friend, a fellow architect he had admired when he had been at college, a woman with revolutionary theories in medicine he had befriended, people who could have been friends and confidants, Zayn had bid goodbye because they were not suitable company for the Sheikh of Khaleej. But in months, if not days, they had become mere memories and he had moved forward with his life.

In mere weeks, Amalia would make her exit, too.

He would move forward again and she would become one of those memories.

* * *

“You let him go.” Amalia forced the words past the disappointment turning her throat raw.

She rubbed the sleeve of her dress between her fingers, her entire body restless. It felt as if she was constantly trying to slow down time with her mind and each tick of every second, every sunrise, was pulling at her, trying to break her apart.

Only one more night before Mirah was married. As if that wasn’t hard enough to come to terms with. Seeing the man who was responsible for her brother’s plight calmly leave the hall twisted the knot in her stomach.

A cold smile in his eyes, Zayn looked distinctly unruffled. “Good morning to you, Amalia. Is it true that you took one of Mirah’s fiancé’s cousins by the collar yesterday afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He...was mouthing off.”

“About you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, because I had to smooth it over with his parents and apologize on your behalf for the emotional trauma you caused the boy.”

“That’s...you’re impossible, Zayn. You immediately assumed I was guilty. I got a little physical with him because he was saying nasty things about you and when I called him on it, he started mouthing off about our relationship. The kid was a bully in the making and really, have you seen how big he is?”

“Apparently, now the parents think he will never get over his shock that women, especially tall, beautiful, angelic-looking women, could be so...offensive.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m amused that you think I needed your defense.”

“At that time I forgot what an arrogant ass you are,” she said just to say something.

Because, like every morning and every evening and pretty much every time he looked at her, Amalia’s breath ballooned in her chest at how gorgeous he was.

His pristine white shirt contrasted with the burnished bronze of his skin, emphasizing the virile masculinity of the man. Flutters emanated in the depth of her lower belly. Amalia shifted her gaze from his face to his throat. The strong column of it, her fingers longed to shape it like she had done last night. To feel the muscles in his shoulders clench under her fingertips, to feel the taut pressure when he moved inside her...

Flushed with unbidden heat, she moved to the table. His long, clever fingers drummed on the table, the same fingers that had been deep inside her heat...that drove her to maddening ecstasy every night...

“As flattered as I am by that look in your eyes, you’re making me very uncomfortable in a public area, in the midst of everyone, and it will be at least afternoon before I can give you what you want, habibti.”

A furious flush claimed her, and she looked away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I came to talk to you about that sneaky man and Aslam, not to—”

“It’s nothing to feel defensive or shamed about, latifa. Believe me, I know exactly how you feel.”

She lifted her gaze to him, her gut folding in on itself in anticipation. “You never...you don’t...”

“Do I have to speak about how crazy you drive me with need for you to know, Amalia? We have spent every night together in the last month. Every night I tell myself that one more night will end the madness between us, that one more night of taking you, of feeling you writhe under me, will be enough...but it never works.”

Dark hunger made the rugged landscape of his face even more breathtaking. “You know, it is only when this fire flares between us do you let me see all of you.”

“I could say the same about you,” Amalia whispered, longing coursing through her very blood. She looked around her to focus on something else, anything other than the words that fought to rise to her mouth, words that would push him away from her before she was ready to let go.