Sheikh's Fake Fiancee (3 page)

Jennifer hesitated and bit her lower lip.

It was the brunette who grabbed his card. “Oh please, Jen. You so need to be braver. You should be glad I’ll jump for you,” she said. “She’d love to. Now,” she said, turning her attention back to the youngest woman. “Come on, Syd, let’s get you home.”

His Goldilocks frowned back at him. “I…have a good night, Bahan.”

He leaned over and kissed the back of her hand. “I’ll see you soon, Jennifer.”

***

Bahan understood that she’d had to run home. He knew by seeing Sydney that Jennifer’s sister had appeared like death warmed over. Sometimes, he’d had people just make transparent excuses or run off lamely. Not often, but in high school, one duchess had been extremely rude. This was different, and he fervently hoped that her little sister was going to recover soon. Still, he’d had his blood pounding and grown excited while dancing with his Goldilocks. He needed some release before bed, since circumstances had foiled the plans he’d been banking on.

The shower blasted over his skin, as hot as he dared, making his skin turn red. He needed that, needed something around him to feel as heated as his blood did. It was as if lava had replaced the regular liquid in his veins. His manhood was already turgid, raised into a fearsome erection. All he needed was a good bit of release before bed.

Closing his eyes, he imagined Jennifer as she’d been tonight, saw the way the tight red dress had ridden up on her delectable thighs and dipped low over her bountiful cleavage. He remembered the smell of her, that scent of roses that seemed to cling to her, as well as the heat of her body. He remembered the smooth, silky feel of her dress against his palms and the thick, wavy heft of her golden hair.

Everything about her turned him on, made that lava flow even more fiercely through his veins. Keeping his eyes closed even tighter, he began to stroke his hardness to build up the friction that might final bring him some contentment and peace. At least for tonight. Bahan knew that he’d never truly feel satisfied until he felt her soft, sweet body under him. Felt the heat of her around his length.

His rhythm intensified. He used his other hand to tightly grip the bar in the shower. It was unwise, but at least it was something to help keep him upright. His knees were going weak beneath him as he imagined what it would feel like to have Jennifer, to have
her
delicate hands lathered up with bodywash and stroking his member. This was a weak imitation, but it was all he had. He knew her fingers would be skillful, and that her very touch would set him on the edge of release. The shower would be filled with the aromatic hint of roses, something that would tickle his nose even as she tickled other things.

His blood felt hotter than lava, felt like it had gone supernova, as if a star’s heat were trapped in his veins. Bahan felt it then, that pressure building, and then the blissful release as he shattered apart and his seed spilled from him, splashing against the tile of the shower and washing down the drain shortly after. It took a while for him to trust himself to walk out of the shower without falling to the floor, but at least his erection was gone for now.

He didn’t trust himself not to need another session later in the night.

His Goldilocks had invaded his mind and his thoughts so thoroughly, had enchanted him as surely as any sorceress in an ancient fairy tale.

“Oh Jennifer,” he said, as he grabbed his towel and cleaned himself off. “You will be mine, Goldilocks. Oh yes, you will be mine.”

Chapter Three

“You need to eat more,” she said, shoving the plate of poached eggs and oatmeal back over the table and towards her sister.

Sydney glared back at her and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t need the full-mom press. I’m fine. If I wanted to be hassled, I could get on the train back to Kentucky.”

“You won’t now, and you know it. Mom’s way stricter. She’d have you bundled up in bed under about eight comforters and eating nothing but chicken soup to chase this cold away,” Jennifer finished. Although she didn’t believe it was just a cold. Her sister wasn’t doing well with her diabetes. Though she’d been able to manage it well even through high school, her blood sugar had been rising lately. She’d been having fainting spells. Jennifer wildly hoped this wasn’t another sign of something more. “You’re lucky to have me, but you do need to at least have more than two spoons of oatmeal.”

Sydney narrowed her eyes back at her. “I don’t need to be babied. I felt faint. I’m still woozy but my back doesn’t hurt at all. I guess I just pushed it too hard dancing. It’s not a big deal. I’m really not feeling oatmeal this morning.”

“You say that now, but it is the kind with apples.”

“You meant to say the kind with like freeze-dried apple pellets that replump because of the billion preservatives in it!”

“Well I didn’t have the slow-cook kind and this was dietetic. It has the apples but no sugars added.”

“It’s all still not my thing, sis.”

“You just have to take care of yourself better.”

Sydney shook her head and took back the plate. So far, as she talked, her sister only managed to stir the oatmeal around, but she did at least have it in front of her again as an option. “Maybe I could say that about you too.”

“Huh?”

“Rose left the card from that hottie you were dancing with last night. I mean, what a nice guy. The shirt he let me have really did help with the shivering and the goose bumps. And he was freaking handsome. If Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious wanted a second date with me, I’d have called by now. I’d have left a voice mail at like six in the morning!”

“That’s not…I have to focus on the Z-Box account. This is hardly what I need right now,” she objected.

“Well, he’s a guy.”

“Oh, I noticed.”

“Then,” her sister said, beaming as if she’d just come up with some Einstein-level formula, “maybe he’s what you need. You go out, and maybe you start dating. You get that handle on the guy’s perspective for marketing, and done, you know?”

“Or you just want to move me around like a chess piece or your own personal Barbie so that I can see a guy I barely know again,” she said, hoping her sister hadn’t seen her out on the dance floor. To be fair, she knew some very personal things about Bahan, like how amazing it felt to have his erection rub against her thigh or how the masculine scent of him made heat flare in her belly. “Besides, what kind of a hostess would I be if I went out tonight or tomorrow and left you here? You already have to do so much on your own because of my job’s crazy hours.”

“Nuh-uh,” Sydney chirped. “You are not using me as an excuse to avoid a guy who might actually be good for you.”

“I think I resent that remark. I do date.”

“Not since the breakup, not really,” Sydney pointed out. “I’m sick a lot. It’s part of my life. But I’m feeling better, really. Besides, Rose already offered to watch me if you did go out. She told me so.”

“I bet Rose did,” Jennifer said, mulling everything over. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her secretary. It was more that she didn’t trust the combined enthusiasm of Rose and Sydney together to not burn her apartment down. “I…”

Her sister shocked her by shoving Jennifer’s cell phone at her. “Just call.”

“Did you rifle through my purse?”

Sydney snorted. “Oh please, like that’s the first time I’ve ever done that. Just call.”

***

“This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy,” she said under her breath as she waited outside of Luigi’s off Sixth.

She wasn’t even dressed the same way as last night. She’d picked out a plain black shift, something functional and actually long enough. Jennifer also had adorned herself with her favorite necklace. It was a diamond lavalier (albeit a small chip), something she’d gotten for herself as a treat for her first real promotion at her company. Still, the outfit was more serious, reflected who she really was. It wasn’t the siren-in-red look that she’d sported last night. It was unlikely that Bahan would even recognize her. Besides, maybe he had been feeding her lines last night. He wouldn’t be the first guy at a club to tell her about his great wealth or something ridiculous like that. Maybe his “emporiums” were, at best, strip malls in Jersey.

It was just so insane. She knew better than anyone else, after her dad and then her breakup, how easy it was for guys to mislead.

Then a limo pulled up and Bahan stepped out.

He’d been attractive under the strobe lights at the club, but under the streetlamps, she could see more and really appreciate how the silk of his shirt clung to the massive muscles of his biceps as well as his chiseled chest. Then there was the sheen to his dark hair, and the fact that in the right light his eyes seemed to shine like amber, the color so rich and gorgeous. Bahan was every bit the prince charming that her sister was pushing him to be. At least, he had the looks, the money, and even the limo.

She knew better than to trust appearances. After all, once upon a time, her dad had probably swept her mom off her feet too.

“Jennifer, my Goldilocks, you look lovely as ever. I do enjoy that necklace of yours,” he said, coming over to her and crooking out his elbow. “I would be the envy of every man at the restaurant tonight.”

“Would?” she asked as they stepped through the door.

Then she whistled. Except for the staff, they were the only people in the restaurant. She’d never seen a place so deliberately cleared out before, but there were acres of empty tables, not even set, except for the bouquets of roses placed atop them. The only table that was set contained an ornate silver candelabra, its dim light flickering for them both.

He tilted his head toward the table. “Yes, exactly. I didn’t want to talk over a din. We did that last night, and I wanted to get to know you better. I feel that there are only certain ways you get to know a woman in a club.”

She felt her cheeks flare as she thought over her behavior. Her own frustration and maybe a few too many Jim Beams had made her looser than she usually was. But that damage was done. She was used to the feel of his hands sweeping over her, to being close enough to smell his maleness as well as the spicy scent of turmeric that seemed to linger on him. She loved that tease of his hardness against her. But yes, they’d gotten to know each other just in one way at the club. They had so much more to do.

He swept up beside her and pulled the chair out. It was probably those Oxford manners of his. It was rare to get that in New York. Either you ended up with some guy from Wall Street who was nothing more than a rampant narcissist who wouldn’t deign to move a chair, or someone from Jersey who wouldn’t know good manners if they hit him upside the face.

Bahan smiled as he took his own seat. “What?”

“I’m not used to having the ladylike treatment. It’s so rare here.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about all that hustle and bustle New Yorkers are famous for. I’m just thankful I don’t have to deal with the teaming masses on the subway or even waving for a cab. I think you Americans are just too aggressive.”

“What are the ‘teaming masses’ like then in Yemen?” she asked, even as she dug into some of the breadsticks in the basket set before them. “I think everyone is busy going out to a job or in the morning commute, however it looks. Wait, would there be camels involved there?” she asked, realizing soon after how dumb that must have sounded.

He chuckled and she loved watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he did so. “There are some, but we have cars and busses too. Home’s only so different. I guess I’m not used to teaming masses anywhere. To be honest, when you’re a sheikh you’re set aside from everything else.”

She dropped her bread and cursed when the oil spilled onto her dress. Grabbing for a napkin, Jennifer would have blotted it herself, but Bahan was there, kneeling before her and placing the linen against her chest. That blush that had first erupted on her cheek had to be neon red by now. She looked away, unsure of where to go from here. Frankly, she didn’t trust herself to speak, afraid that her voice would come out far too raspy and come hither, like Kathleen Turner.

“Did I not mention being a sheikh earlier?”

She swallowed and finally gathered her equilibrium when he was back in his seat across the table. “I think I would have noted that. So like royalty? Like
Aladdin
?”

“Those are actually sultans, like in Brunei,” he said, winking back at her. “I honestly didn’t mean to hide that from you. I thought it had come up last night. Besides, if it didn’t, I figured you’d Google-search me based on my card and realize exactly who I was.” He shrugged as if he hadn’t just announced he was a royal. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I think it is,” she said. “If I had known, I’d have tried harder not to get oil all over me.”

“I think that was the most charming part so far,” he admitted. “Just be yourself. Trust me, if I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have given you the card or told Narjit to let the call go directly through to me. I think you’re amazing.”

“Because I was in a short, tight dress and we were enjoying each other?”

“No. Because you’re honest but you’re also so responsible. You snapped to attention to take care of your sister in a flash. That’s what I like most about you. I know what it’s like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“But you have a massive company, I’m assuming, now that I know you really are who you say you are and then some,
and
a whole country. One kid sister with diabetes doesn’t compare to that.”

“She has that? She’s so slim,” he asked, taking a sip of the wine that had already been waiting at their table.”

“She’s had it since she was a kid. It’s hard. I just…someone needs to take care of her, and Mom does a great job most of the time. Part of having her out here before Christmas was to give Sydney something to do but also to give Mom a break so she could prep for the holidays, you know?”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Jennifer sighed and pulled a bit on the gold filigree around her neck. “What else could I do? She’s family.”

“I understand exactly how you feel,” he said. “Now, let’s try and figure out what to eat. I’m starving.”