The Chatsfield Collection Books 1-8. Annie West
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you,” he said with more honesty than he ever offered.
“But?”
“But an emir cannot have even a temporary relationship with a hotel maid. Life is not a fairy tale.” No matter how much he might wish otherwise.
“And you are certainly no Prince Charming.”
The fact she apparently found him lacking bothered him, but he did not understand why it should. “No, I have never pretended to be anything but a man.”
“Who is prince of his people.”
“Exactly.”
She looked at him strangely. “You really don’t mean to be arrogant, do you?”
“No.”
“You are, though. Just in case you ever wondered.”
He found himself laughing. “Duly noted.”
“You’re not offended.”
“Why should I be?”
“Because the opinion of a mere hotel maid doesn’t matter, does it?”
“Of course your viewpoint is important.” More important than he wanted to admit.
“You sound like a politician.”
“I am a politician.” Though not one that could be voted out of office.
Diplomacy was nevertheless very important in his life. He wasn’t being diplomatic with her, however. He meant his words. For reasons he could not identify, her opinion mattered.
“You’re very sexy for a politician.” She sounded surprised by that fact.
Or perhaps it was her own admission of it.
Unable to bank the hunger any longer, he leaned forward. “I am glad you think so.”
“You’re going to kiss me,” she whispered as his mouth was centimeters from hers.
He didn’t bother to give a verbal reply, but pressed his mouth to hers. At first, she acted like she didn’t know what to do, but then her lips softened and she let them mold to his.
And he understood her initial reticence. She’d said she didn’t do one-night stands; naturally, she would have reservations about what was about to happen between them.
With great reluctance, he pulled his lips from hers. “We cannot have more than one night,” he felt compelled to point out one last time.
He was still a man of honor, no matter how inconvenient.
* * *
Liyah had to process Sayed’s words and what they meant before she could reply. “I know.”
He’d made their short-term incompatibility perfectly clear. And she didn’t care. She’d spent her entire life listening to her mother preach against easy familiarity with men.
Liyah had not dated in high school and only rarely in college, but she’d never allowed anything beyond simple kisses. She’d maintained her virtue on behalf of Hena Amari, to prove something that was forever denied her.
Her daughter’s worthiness to be recognized by the Amari family.
She would never know that acceptance, but she was worthy to carry the Amari name. More worthy than those who would turn their back on Hena because her love for her child was too great to let Liyah go.
Liyah had remained chaste to prove to them all, but most especially Hena, that her mother had raised her better than any of them could have. Proving something to a woman who was irrevocably gone from Liyah’s life, or people who simply did not matter, seemed beyond ridiculous.
Even to her alcohol-addled brain.
She had an entire life of being alone to look forward to. For this night, she would experience intimacy she’d always denied herself and might never know again.
No matter how melodramatic she told herself the sentiment was, Liyah had the distinct feeling no other man after this one would ever suffice.
Was love at first sight real, or was this just lust?
Liyah did not know, but the feelings she had for this arrogant sheikh went beyond anything she’d ever experienced.
She’d always thought her mother had been doing some kind of penance in never dating or seeking out another relationship, but maybe it was even simpler. Maybe Hena Amari had never stopped loving Gene Chatsfield.
And he hadn’t even remembered what she looked like, much less her name.
Pushing those disturbing thoughts away, Liyah focused entirely on the man before her, the one whose kiss had touched her more deeply than she thought possible.
Sayed breathed against her lips, the soft puffs of air brushing them in a gentle caress. “I want to kiss you again.”
She sighed softly. “I’d like that.” A lot.
He didn’t ask again, but put his desires into action, this time placing one hand behind her head. She found the control inherent in the action entirely in line with the man’s nature.
What surprised her was how much she enjoyed it. She liked the way he helped her angle her head for the best connection, but she burned with the way his mouth felt against hers.
It was amazing and sent more sparks of unfamiliar need along her nerve endings. She wanted so much more than just a simple kiss. Not that this kiss felt simple. Decadent, delicious and completely addictive—his lips were lethal to her restraint.
One kiss melted into another until she realized what he wanted as his tongue slid along her lips pressing gently at the seam of her mouth. Liyah let him in and shuddered as the intimacy of their connection went to a whole new level.
He tasted like licorice and...another person. Liyah had never had a man’s tongue slide along her own, had never experienced this level of familiarity with another person’s mouth.
It was erotic in a way she never would have expected, making her want more. More of what, she wasn’t sure.
But definitely more.
He cupped her breast and then she knew. She wanted more of that.
The thin layer of her bra might as well not even be there. Everywhere his hand had contact tingled, sending bursts of bliss arcing through her.
Warm masculine fingers caressed her, kneading her curve and brushing across her nipple. Her entire body went rigid at the electric jolts going directly from her aching peak to the core of her being.
Was this normal? Could ecstasy be this easy to achieve?
All the women’s magazines made it sound a lot more complicated.
He gently pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his tongue playing a mating dance with her mouth she’d never known but recognized nevertheless.
And she realized what she was feeling wasn’t the ultimate in ecstasy. Because it kept building. One pleasure on top of another. Every sensation more intense than the last, her entire body heating as her blood rushed.
If this wasn’t a climax, she wasn’t entirely sure she was going to survive one.
But, oh, she was willing to try.
Sayed broke the kiss, the sound of their panting breaths loud to her ears. “Are you certain you want this?”
She nodded, unable to get a single word out.
“You understand, tomorrow I am again the emir of Zeena Sahra.”
“But tonight you are just a man,” she reminded him in a desire-laden whisper.
“Yes.” The sound was closer to a growl than a word.
He kissed her again, this time his mouth devouring hers, his hold on