Desert Rogues Part 2

It’s not as if he can get you pregnant.

The small voice in her head made a lot of sense, she thought hazily as his hot breath caressed her. He kissed across the back of her neck—soft, teasing kisses that made it nearly impossible to stay standing. She and Sadik might come from different worlds and have completely different views of things, but they sure got along in bed.

Don’t think about that, she told herself. She had to stay in control. While it was true that she couldn’t get any more pregnant than she was, there were other ramifications if they made love. What about the state of her heart? Wasn’t she at risk? Isn’t that the reason she’d run home in the first place?

“You think too much,” Sadik complained as he turned her in his arms and pulled her close. “I can hear the chatter. Stop thinking. Only feel.”

Before she could work up an indignant reply, he kissed her mouth.

The sensation was both tempting and familiar. So familiar, she thought with a sigh. His strong arms encircled her body, allowing her the illusions of being both delicate and petite. He held her with a combination of passion and possession that should have annoyed her but only made her want him more.

He didn’t deepen their kiss. Not at first. Instead he teased her with light pressure and tiny nibbles. He sucked on her lower lip, then finally, when she couldn’t stand it anymore, brushed her tongue with his.

Fire shot through her. Against her will Cleo wrapped her arms around him. She felt his strength, the broadness of his back. He was tall and every inch a male. Already she was damp and swelling as her body prepared itself for him. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. She wanted him inside of her. She needed to make love with him with a desperation that left her both breathless and afraid.

When he broke the kiss, she moaned a protest. He laughed. “Come, my goddess. I will not make you wait long. But I think we would do better on my bed.”

He took her hand and led her toward the bedroom she remembered so well. It was large and filled with masculine oversize furniture. She remembered teasing him about the size of his bed and the dresser. He could have parties for large groups on the former. She’d been joking, but he’d taken her words seriously.

“No one could touch you,” he’d growled, claiming her with a kiss. She was his alone. His to desire, his to take, his to pleasure.

Cleo remembered how much she’d wanted the words to be true for more than an afternoon. But they hadn’t been. And nothing had changed.

Maybe this was a mistake.

She turned to the prince. “Sadik, I don’t think we should do this.”

“We must,” he said simply, and reached for the necklace clasp at the base of her neck.

When he’d removed her jewelry, he had her sit in a chair in the corner. Gently, nearly reverently, he removed her shoes. When her open-toed, high-heeled sandals hit the floor, she started to rise. Maybe to help him or maybe to run. She wasn’t sure. But she didn’t get the opportunity.

Sadik put a restraining hand on her arm. “Not yet.” Then he raised her dress to her thighs and bent down to kiss the inside of her knees.

Even as his lips pressed against her skin, he moved his hands up and down her legs. His long fingers touched every inch of her calves, before moving higher and stroking her thighs. As he caressed her and reduced her to a melting shell of desire, he spoke of his pleasure in her body.

“So rich and lush,” he murmured, licking the inside of her thigh and making her squirm. “Your scent intoxicates me, Cleo. So far I do not see any changes, but I know they are there. The thought of your body growing big with my son excites me.”

She was torn between wanting to be with him and knowing it was a big mistake. What tipped the scale was the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be one of those men who found a pregnant woman as unsexy as a cow. Cleo had spent her entire life insecure about her short body and womanly curves. Somehow she’d never felt as if everything went together. Even though she’d had plenty of male attention, it hadn’t been the right kind. But Sadik’s words always seemed to hit her where she lived. She believed he genuinely adored every inch of her—pregnant or not. He made her feel irresistible, and that combined with her need for him made him irresistible, as well.

He straightened and slipped off his jacket, then loosened his tie and his cuffs. Without saying a word, he rose, then helped her to her feet. They crossed to the bed, where he finished unzipping her dress. The rose-colored garment fell to the floor.

Sadik gazed at her breasts, which had become enlarged in the past couple of months, then at her swelling belly. She’d felt unattractive and awkward right up until he smiled in delight and gathered her close.

He kissed her with a reverence that broke through her defenses and left her wanting and vulnerable. Her arms came up of their own accord. She clung to him, needing to feel him pressing against her. She knew that he was already aroused, but the feel of his hardness reassured her and fueled her body’s passion.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose and her chin. He licked the hollow of her throat, then journeyed lower to the edge of her bra where he lightly teased the exposed curves.

Sadik had been right when he’d said she couldn’t possibly be with another man after being with him. As he touched her, she found herself remembering what it had been like when they’d been together before. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else, no matter how long she lived.

He reached behind her and unfastened her bra. As if he knew her breasts were tender, he cupped her curves as the bra slipped down. He gently rubbed his lips against her tight nipples, not pressing at all, just teasing until they grew more rigid and heat seemed to flare from every inch of her skin.

“So beautiful,” he breathed.

She thought about pointing out that the veins seemed more prominent than the last time he’d seen her chest and that her skin flushed more easily. She could have done twenty minutes on how she was ambivalent about her growing belly—both appreciating that she was carrying a healthy child and hating that she was getting fatter by the day.

But when he licked her right nipple, all rational thought fled. What did body image matter when one could be in the arms of a man who knew how to make her feel incredible?

He helped her onto the bed and settled next to her. Somewhere along the way he had discarded his shoes and socks, along with his dress shirt. As Cleo brushed her hand against his bare chest, he stroked her arms, then lightly traced the hollow between her breasts.

“I see many changes,” he said softly, and kissed her mouth. “You have grown even more beautiful. I can’t wait to see you big and round. You will leave grown men weeping with desire.”

She smiled. “I can’t wait for that, either. Seeing as I’ve never had a grown man weep with desire, I figure I’m due.”

He moved his hand down to the swell of her belly. “You are the most perfect woman. So many curves. Your flesh yields to me with a softness designed to please a man.”

At barely two inches over five feet, Cleo had battled with her weight all her life. Those last fifteen pounds constantly crept up on her, and she had to struggle for weeks to get them off. Sadik had seen her at the high end of her weight cycle. After ten minutes of his verbal worship, she’d been ready to toss out her Diet Delight food scale forever.

He placed his hand on her stomach. Pride darkened his eyes.

She knew he’d gone all male and “this is my son,” but before she could slap his arm away or remind him the baby might be a girl, he moved lower.

Her hips immediately pulsed in anticipation. Sadik helped her off with her panties, then slowly slipped his fingers between her thighs.

She was already slick with wanting. He smiled when he encountered damp curls and the swollen flesh beyond.

“Always ready,” he murmured, and kissed her belly. “Your desire makes me want to forget myself, but then I would miss pleasing you.”

He shifted slightly and licked her breasts. As his tongue stroked one sensitive nipple, his fingers sought and found her point of greatest sensitivity. He explored the small knot of nerves, rubbing lightly, circling, slipping away and then returning.

It had been so long, Cleo thought, as intense feelings filled her. Somehow, from the first, he’d known the exact rhythm to bring her to the edge in about forty seconds. Even as his thumb stroked, his middle finger slipped inside and pushed up. She felt her body contract.

Not yet, she thought frantically, trying to disconnect from what they were doing. It was too soon. She hated the power he had over her, even as she began to surrender.

He continued to touch her. Her body was on fire, and with every moment of contact, the flames licked higher. If he would just stop sucking on her breast, or take his finger out of her, she might have a shot at control. If he would just—

Surrender caught her unaware. Her body tensed, and without warning the tremors began. Her breath caught as she went rigid, then relaxed completely as he moved lightly against her trembling flesh, urging her on and drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

When she had finally returned to sanity, he moved down on the bed.

“Sadik, I’m more than content,” she murmured. “Really, you don’t have to do any more.”

“Perhaps I want to.”

She knew what he would do next and parted her thighs. As he knelt between her legs, she drew up her knees and dug her heels into the mattress.

The first time he’d insisted on this most intimate kiss after he’d already brought her to climax, she’d flat-out told him he was crazy. She was done. It had been great, but her time at the party was over.

He had managed to convince her otherwise.

Now he lowered his head and licked her. She was exquisitely sensitive and the feel of his tongue on her nearly brought her up into a sitting position. Heat flooded her, making her want to beg him to hurry, even as she needed the experience to go on for as long as possible.

He carried her higher and higher, and when she was close to exploding, he gently put a finger inside of her.

The back and forth movement mimicked the act to follow. He used both his mouth and his finger, first one and then two, until she was on the verge of climaxing. Then he used only his finger until the tension subsided.

Over and over he repeated the process until finally she felt herself falling. Slow, rolling releases surged through her body. They were like the tide, rushing in, one after the other, then slowly withdrawing. The lower intensity meant she could continue indefinitely and he drew the surreal experience on for several minutes.

When it became impossible for her to catch her breath, he stopped long enough to remove his trousers and briefs. Then he knelt between her legs and entered her.

At the first whisper of contact, she began to climax again. He pushed in, filling her, making her cling to him. They gazed into each other’s eyes, connecting in the most intimate way possible. With each thrust he pushed her over the edge.

She tried to hold back, to stop and gain some control, but it was impossible. Being with him had always made her surrender.

He moved slowly, making them both wait. She finally knew that she couldn’t hold on any longer.

She tightened her muscles as hard as she could and tilted her hips. The unexpected action made him stiffen, then he called out her name, his voice hoarse. One more quick thrust and his body shuddered inside of her. Her own muscles contracted around him in a final release, sucking the last of her strength. She lay on the bed unable to move, barely able to breathe, sated beyond all reasonable expectation.

“I’d forgotten you were this good in bed,” she managed to say.

Sadik chuckled. “No, my goddess. You had not forgotten a thing.”

Of course he was telling the truth, but two could play at that game. “Had you?”

His smiled faded. “No. Not even when I tried.”

Chapter Seven

O kay, so the fact that he hadn’t forgotten about how good they were in bed meant what? Cleo tried to figure out if there were any nuances to his words, or if she should respond in some way. But before she could come up with a strategy, Sadik bent low and kissed her breasts.

“The color of your nipples has changed,” he said.

Cleo half raised herself to look. “Really?”

“You have not noticed?”

She couldn’t help smiling. “I have to admit I don’t spend a lot of my day looking at myself naked.”

Sadik brushed her belly with his hand. “I would spend all day gazing at you naked, if it were possible.”

The postlovemaking glow left her vulnerable. She didn’t think this was a good time to be listening to his compliments. They would only get her in trouble. The true disaster would be if she actually started to believe they meant something.

He nuzzled her belly. “And here, you have a dark line forming.” He placed his hands on either side of her stomach. “You carry my son.”

She stretched back on the bed. “The baby could be a girl. You might want to consider that.”

He ignored her…like that was a surprise. “My son. The first male grandchild of the king of Bahania.”

“I’m done arguing about the baby’s gender,” she told him. “Just be prepared to be wrong.”

His self-satisfied smile made her want to cuff him. “I am never wrong.”

She started to respond but was distracted by fluttering in her belly. “It’s happening,” she said, knowing she was crazy for wanting to share this with him.

But the baby’s tiny signs of life were precious to her, and there was no one else on the planet who would care as much, except for Sadik.

“Show me,” he demanded.

She took his hands and shifted them to the side. He pressed in slightly, then grinned when he felt the vibration.

“He is strong.”

“Apparently.”

Sadik was still as the movements continued. His hands were warm and comforting. As she watched, his expression tightened. His eyes darkened with emotion. It took her a couple of seconds to figure out he felt love for their unborn child. Love and adoration.

On the one hand Cleo knew she should be happy that he was so accepting of the baby’s presence. He could have been annoyed or denied that it was his. Then she reminded herself that if he were to have denied the child, she would have been free to leave. So that would have been a good thing.

Or would it? Perversely, she was glad he wanted their baby, even though it completely messed up her life. She hadn’t allowed herself to think through all the ramifications of having to live here. She had no idea what she was going to do with herself or what her role would be.

Now, seeing how much Sadik cared for his unborn child, she felt a dangerous stirring in her heart. She’d been doing her best to ignore her feelings for him ever since she’d run away, but if he kept up his adoration of the baby, she might not have a choice in the matter.

The movements slowed, then stopped. Sadik kissed her belly, then climbed out of bed. He stood there naked, obviously unconcerned that she could look her fill. His body was darned impressive, she thought, studying the outline of muscles, his flat belly and long legs. Not that she was as old-fashioned as the prince, but she had to admit she’d hit the genetic jackpot with her baby’s father.

“We will be married,” Sadik announced.

Cleo stared at him. Her brain absorbed the words and promptly rejected them. Her heart jumped, and she instantly felt way too undressed to be having this conversation.

“Excuse me?”

“You are to be the mother of my child. It is right that we should be married.”

A coldness settled in her bones. Cleo could barely breathe as she sat up, then slipped off the bed. She ignored Sadik as she collected her clothes.

Married? He wasn’t serious. Yet she knew he was. He would marry her for the baby. Of course. Why hadn’t she realized that before? For the child all things were possible. A combination of rage and hurt flooded her, making her actions jerky.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she pulled on her panties and reached for her bra.

“I would think that is obvious,” she snapped. “I’m getting dressed, then I’m getting out of here. I should never have come. I’m sorry we made love.”

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to keep moving. It was as if he’d attacked her with a club instead of with words. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Cleo couldn’t have said why she was so upset. She simply knew that she had to get alone and be by herself before she lost control.

“You are not going anywhere,” Sadik announced, still beautiful, still naked.

She refused to look at him. “You would be wrong about that,” she said as she slipped into her dress. It took a shimmy or two for her to pull up the zipper, but she managed it. She’d left her flowers at the reception. She had a very expensive necklace somewhere in Sadik’s rooms, but she would worry about that another time. After slipping into her shoes, she headed for the door.

He stalked over and grabbed her arm. “You are not going anywhere,” he repeated, obviously annoyed by her reaction. “I have said we are to be married. It is a great honor. You will be my wife, a princess of Bahania. How dare you not be pleased.”

She jerked free and glared at him. “To be honest, Your Highness, I’d rather eat glass.”

She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Sadik spluttered, but he wasn’t dressed to give chase.

At first Cleo walked, but after a couple of minutes, she slipped off her shoes and ran down the long corridors. She made her way back to her suite and let herself in.

When the door was safely closed and she found herself alone, her legs seemed to give way. She sank onto the floor. After dropping her shoes, she pulled her legs to her chest—as much as she could—and rested her head on her knees.

Great painful sobs welled up inside of her. She tried to hold back, then figured there wasn’t much point. Who was she trying to impress?

Cleo cried as if her heart was breaking. A combination of sadness and anger fueled her emotions, and for several minutes she simply allowed her feelings to vent. When the storm had passed, she rose and went in search of a tissue.

She avoided looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. After blowing her nose, she stripped out of her fancy dress and slipped into her robe. The cotton folds were familiar and comforting. She cracked the French doors leading to the balcony, then crawled into the bed and rested her face against the cool fabric of the pillowcase.

Sadik wanted to marry her.

Just thinking the sentence made her eyes well up with tears. She started to get angry again.

“What’s going on?” she asked aloud.

There wasn’t an answer. Only the faint sound of music from the reception still going strong. Cleo curled up, feeling alone, lost and confused. Sadik’s offering to marry her was the honorable thing to do. Why did it bother her so?

She tucked her hands under the pillow as she considered her feelings. For one thing, his proposal hadn’t been an offer. He’d announced they were getting married. Not that his actions were a surprise. Sadik pretty much took what he wanted and dealt with any consequences later. What was the old staying? Ask forgiveness, not permission.

Except Sadik was a prince, so forgiveness was rarely needed.

He wanted to marry her. Why was that bad? It answered her question of what was to become of her when the baby was born. In fact, now that she was able to think straight, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Sadik wouldn’t want his firstborn child to be illegitimate.

Cleo closed her eyes and sighed. That was it, she realized. Everything about his wanting to marry her was based on the child. It wasn’t about her. If it weren’t for the baby, he wouldn’t have had anything to do with her—except for a possible invitation to join him in bed. Which he’d done, anyway.

It was the baby he cared about, not her. Not her.

Cleo rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She remembered the last time she’d been here. Sadik had seduced more than her body—he’d found his way into her heart. She’d been smarter then. She’d known that there was no way she could find happiness with a handsome prince, so she’d cut her losses and headed back home.

Secretly she’d hoped he would come after her. She’d waited for the phone call that never came. Gradually she’d realized that he’d forgotten her.

But she’d been unable to forget him. Because she’d allowed herself to care and because she’d given herself to him.

A combination of parental abandonment and a big chip on her shoulder had sent Cleo into the world with something to prove. When she’d made the transition from girl to woman, her body had matured years before her emotions. All the attention she’d received in high school had been a balm to her wounded heart. She’d thought her curves were far from the ideal of thin and thinner, but the boys had adored her.

So she’d given in, because at sixteen the line between sex and love often blurred. By the time she’d turned twenty, she’d figured out that there was a line, but being sexually available was a hard habit to break.

When she turned twenty-one, she vowed she would never give her body unless she also handed over her heart.

Then she’d met Ian. He managed a pet supply store and they’d bonded over a particularly complex printing order. He’d invited her for coffee.

As he’d been the first man she’d met after her vow, she’d promised herself to go slow. It hadn’t been difficult. Ian was sensitive and kind, about as opposite from the guys she usually dated as it was possible to be.

She shifted on the bed as the uncomfortable memories returned. She remembered laughing with Ian. Talking late into the night. She remembered sharing hopes and dreams. He’d talked about wanting to get married and have a family. For the first time ever she’d allowed herself to believe that a normal life was possible, even for someone like her.

When their relationship had moved to the next level, she’d found herself eager to make love with him. While he hadn’t been all that exciting in bed, he’d been caring and attentive, if a little clumsy. She’d known she could be with him for the rest of her life.

Her bubble burst when a friend mentioned seeing Ian with another woman. At first Cleo had been too content to worry much, but eventually she’d asked him about her. Ian had told her the other woman was his fiancée.

Cleo rolled back on her side and covered her face. That moment was forever frozen in her mind. The disbelief at first. How she’d thought he was kidding, even though it was a pretty awful joke.

“I’m marrying Sandy,” Ian had repeated.

“What about us?” Cleo couldn’t remember being more stunned as his words sunk in. He wasn’t kidding. This wasn’t a joke.

“There’s no us.”

She’d been stunned by the contempt in his voice and the lack of caring in his eyes. Then he did the unthinkable. He laughed at her.

“Did you really think any of this mattered?” he asked, still chuckling. “Come on, Cleo. This was my last fling before settling down. I told you I wanted to get married and have kids.” He looked at her as if she were the most stupid person on the planet. “You didn’t really think I was serious about you? You’re the kind of woman guys sleep with, but you’re sure as hell not the kind we marry.”

Even now the words burned down to her soul. Somehow he’d found out about her past, she’d thought at the time. Or maybe the truth had been there for him to see. Maybe he didn’t need to know her past. Maybe just by looking at her he could tell that she was worthless.

Broken and bleeding, Cleo had gone home. She hadn’t told anyone what Ian had said, but she’d been unable to forget. That night, sometime between midnight and dawn, she’d vowed to never care about a man again. No matter who he was or what he said, she wouldn’t give in.