For Sheikh Tariq of Al-Sharath, one miserable marriage was enough. With a
kingdom to rule, he has no time—or wish—to find a bride, but his children need
a mother.
Could Princess Samira of Jazeer be the answer? Samira has sampled passion,
and it left a bad taste. With the knowledge she can't have the children she's
always wanted, Samira steps into Tariq's ready-made family. Her only condition?
No sex!
Samira thought royal duties and her love for Tariq's children would fill the
hole in her heart, but a craving is building that only the sheikh's touch can
cure…
Scene set-up
Tariq has given his new bride, Samira, a wedding gift, a workroom designed specifically to meet her needs. This unexpected and thoughtful gift from the man she's always admired, but vowed to keep at a physical distance, undercuts her caution and her resolve.
(And if you want to know why she tries to keep him at a distance you'll have to read the book!)
Smooch -
Everywhere
she looked, in every drawer and corner, was something that pleased her.
Slowly she
turned, taking in the careful thought and attention to detail that had gone
into making this the ideal workroom.
She blinked
hard as she recognised the ancient, slightly saggy lounge chair she’d used for
the past four years when she wanted to curl up and sketch. Beside it was a
small wooden table inlaid with mother of pearl. It held a sketch pad like the
one she always used and a variety of crayons and pencils.
‘Your
sister-in-law helped me with the details. She sent through photos of your workshop
in Jazeera.’
‘But this
is…’ the words stuck in Samira’s throat. ‘This is far, far better. It’s
perfect.’ She’d never had a custom made studio. Despite her growing success
she’d worked out of a large room she’d adapted in her brother’s palace. But
this – it was amazing. And it had been created especially for her.
A wave of
excitement crashed over her, making her blood tingle. She itched to get to work
here.
Samira
pivoted to find Tariq just behind her. She grabbed his hand in both of hers,
enthusiasm buoying her.
‘I don’t know
how to thank you.’ She shook her head, brim full of emotion. He’d done this for
her. No gift had ever been so
special, so very right. ‘Words don’t
seem enough.’
‘Then don’t
use words.’ His glinting eyes challenged her, as if he knew she felt overfull,
needing an outlet for the surge of elation and wonder she felt.
Samira’s
breath hitched in automatic denial, the shutters she’d so carefully built
instantly coming up to guard her from this over-emotional response.
She saw the
moment he read the change in her. The moment his gaze altered from challenging
to disappointed.
The moment he
realised she didn’t have the guts to follow through.
When he saw
how scared she was.
In that
instant the truth blasted her. She had all the emotions of other women. She
felt pain and hope and delight, but she’d spent years bottling them up, hiding
them from the world and herself. Because she was scared they’d make her weak.
She’d let
Jackson Brent do that to her.
No, she
corrected. She’d done it to herself.
Her nostrils
flared in disgust and inadvertently she drew in the heady spice aroma of Tariq.
It sent a trickle of feminine pleasure coursing through her.
She’d even
learned to repress that in the last few years, hadn’t she? She hadn’t been
interested in a man, much less turned on by one in four years. She hadn’t let
herself.
Suddenly
Samira saw herself as Tariq must – wary to the point of being pathetic.
Was she? Or
was she merely cautious? Sensible to protect herself?
But there was
a difference between being cautious and being a coward. Last night she’d been a
coward and the knowledge was bitter on her tongue. All this time she’d told
herself she was being strong. But in reality-
Samira let go
of Tariq’s hand, instead planting a steadying palm on his hard chest, the other
on his shoulder as she rose on tiptoe.
Light flared
in those cool eyes, but he didn’t move, merely stood stock still, waiting.
She realised
she’d stopped breathing and exhaled then drew in a deep breath redolent of
desert spice and hot man. Tariq. His scent enticed. Could he possibly taste as
good? Suddenly she had to know.
Samira
slipped her hand from his shoulder up to the back of his head, pulling till his
mouth was a whisper from hers.
Atavistic
warning clawed through her, screaming that she was about to cross a point of no
return.
For once need
overrode caution. The need to trust herself, just a little. The need for a
man’s touch.
Her eyes
closed as she pressed her mouth to his. His lips were warm and inviting. She
angled her head a little, kissing him again, enjoying his hard body against
hers, the pleasure of his mouth touching hers.
Samira’s
other hand snaked up to wrap around his neck, holding him tight as she worked
tiny kisses along the tantalising seam of his lips. She felt the exhale of his
breath through his nostrils, harder than before, and licked where before she’d
kissed. He felt so good. This felt so
good. If only-
Delicious
pleasure hit as he opened his mouth, sucking her tongue inside, drawing her
into delight. It was so sudden, so powerfully erotic, that she crumpled at the
knees, clinging to his tall frame as his arms wrapped her close.
His mouth
worked hers, drawing her to him, delving her depths so she had no option but to
surrender that last skerrick of caution.
Samira was
captivated. Her whole body came alive in a way she’d never known. Surely no
kiss had been like this – a slow kindling that burned bright and satisfying,
even as it demanded more and yet more?
She arched,
moulding herself inch by inch to that strong body she hadn’t been able to put
from her mind. Still her lips clung to his, hungrier now as his grew more
urgent and a new fire ignited low in her body. Her hands tightened on him.
Ripples of heat traced her skin, eddying at her breasts, her pelvis. At her
back and hip where he held her so securely.
Her heart was
hammering as she tore her lips away, gasping for air. Yet it wasn’t lack of
oxygen that made her withdraw, but shock at how a thank you kiss had turned
into something completely different. Gratitude and excitement had turned to
curiosity, to pleasure and then, almost, to surrender.
She wanted
nothing so much as to kiss him again, to lose herself in him.
Samira
shivered, suddenly cold despite the hot pulse of blood under her skin. Fear
warred with elation.
Tariq still
held her, his gaze hooded, waiting, and her stomach churned.
She
swallowed, trying to find her voice and not betray rising panic. ‘That was…’
His mouth
tilted a little at one corner. ‘Delightful?’ he mused in a low murmur that
trawled through her insides, tying her in knots.
‘Unexpected,’
she gasped.
‘A taste of
things to come.’ His smile deepened, his hold tightening just a fraction.
You can grab a copy of 'The Sheikh's Princess Bride' at all the usual places including
Amazon
Barnes and Noble and
The Book Depository
Have you ever had a completely unexpected gift? One that moved you? Or have you perhaps given one to someone else? Leave a response to be in the draw to win a signed copy of 'The Sheikh's Princess Bride'.
