Pregnant by the Sheikh. Оливия Гейтс

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СКАЧАТЬ Ullah, had it been only an hour? She felt she’d known him, had been in this state of agitated excitement in his company, forever. It felt like days ago when she’d made her reckless request.

      She’d more than half expected he’d shrug and move on. His immediate and unequivocal response had been the last thing she’d expected. And it had shocked the hell out of her.

      But what else was new? Everything from the moment she’d laid eyes on him had been one shock after another. And here she was. In his suite. What she’d never done with any man. Not even the man she’d once married. She’d always met any man on her turf. She’d dictated the pace, the rules.

      She hadn’t even thought of trying to impose those on Numair. Even when he’d made it clear he’d accommodate her every wish. It wasn’t because she needed his help or because he’d promised it. He was just...overriding. And for the first time in her life, she loved being swept away, not being in control of herself or the situation. Numair made what should have been a disconcerting experience, to someone as obsessive about autonomy as herself, exhilarating.

      His hand once again burned her waist through her dress as he guided her through a succession of vestibules to a massive space hosting a sumptuous ten-seat dining table and a luxurious sitting area.

      Stepping away from his electrifying touch, she sought the refuge of the grand piano at the far corner. Once behind it and taking in the whole scene with him at its center, she felt herself stumble out of the surreal state she’d plunged into.

      Numair might have admitted her equal effect on him, but would he consider it equally her right to follow her instincts as it was his? She did trust him not to make any move she didn’t invite, but she suddenly didn’t trust he’d view this whole thing as she did. Could he be so progressive he wouldn’t hold it against her and change his treatment of her?

      Well, if he wasn’t, it would be his loss, and she’d be well rid of him. As she had been of her ex.

      Striving for an even tone, she asked, “Are you in New York to attend the reception?”

      Those amazing emerald-like eyes of his glittered. “I wasn’t invited, no.”

      “So you heard royals from your region were having an engagement celebration at your hotel and you simply decided to investigate?”

      “Something like that.”

      She’d have to be satisfied with that, because he didn’t seem about to elaborate. Not that it mattered why he happened to be there. What mattered was whether he could truly help her.

      Before she could reintroduce the subject, he came around the piano. “I detect a severe drop in temperature since we entered the suite. Having second thoughts after all?”

      His voice had deepened, calmed, as if soothing a skittish mare. He reached for her hand that lay fisted on the black, polished surface of the piano. His hand was big enough to lose hers in, tough enough it could pulverize brick. Yet the gentleness with which he coaxed her hand open, the consideration in his eyes as he surveyed her no doubt tense face, suddenly made her ashamed of her surge of doubt.

      Squeezing her eyes in contrition, she groaned, “I guess I got a bit paranoid.”

      He frowned. “Were you worried that your trust in me was unsubstantiated, and I’d do something against your will once I got you here?”

      She shook her head vigorously, needing him to know this was something she’d never suspect. “Not that. I just worried you’d change your...attitude.”

      “Like men usually do, once they think they’ve gotten their objectives and no longer need to hide their nasty natures and double-standard convictions?”

      From the way his gorgeous lips thinned, she knew if such men crossed his path, they’d regret it for life. He did have that protector/punisher vibe going.

      She wished he’d let this go but knew he wouldn’t. This man needed to know everything, to have a tight handle on every situation. He’d probe until she spilled everything that had crossed her mind in those moments of unease.

      She sighed. “Men are like that to one degree or another in my experience, but mainly men from my region, yes.”

      One dauntingly arched eyebrow rose. “Are all men chauvinists there?”

      “Double standards are the general stance, perpetrated by women even more than men. Anyone, especially a woman, who dares flaunt cultural rules and restrictions becomes stigmatized, no matter how modern everyone looks on the surface.”

      “Why did you fear I’d be like them? I was born in your region, but I was not raised there.”

      “Indoctrination happens at a very early age. It takes very progressive families and especially mothers not to imprint their children with the worst of the culture. In general, men there are raised to have very cruel opinions of women whom they perceive as ‘loose.’”

      “And you thought my early programming would resurface, and I’d judge you for coming up here with me?”

      “It was a passing thought, okay? An ingrained reaction that really has nothing to do with you.”

      “But it wasn’t ingrained in you because of the general state of affairs in your homeland. It was out of personal experience, wasn’t it?”

      She’d been right. He wouldn’t rest until he had the whole truth. She sighed again. “How much do you know about me? You clearly investigated me before crashing the reception.”

      He guided her to the nearest couch, pulled her down on it with him. “Investigations provide only broad lines that can be interpreted in different ways that can all turn out to be wrong. You tell me what’s accurate.”

      Shuddering as his power and warmth encompassed her, she leaned against the dark brown velvet couch. She hoped she didn’t look as swooning as she felt as she gazed up at him.

      “I am the very definition of loose in my region. From leaving my family at eighteen to live in another country, to supporting myself ever since, to making success and autonomy my life goal, to being a divorcée who hasn’t returned home in penance, seeking the shelter of her family and the forgiveness of society, I’m the cautionary tale mothers tell their little daughters. Anything bad that ever befell me is advertised as punishment for my sins.”

      His expression hardened with her every word, until his face seemed to be hewn from granite. “Everything you just mentioned, everything you achieved and are, makes you only enterprising and powerful, a role model all women in and out of your region should aspire to emulate.”

      She let loose an incredulous laugh. At his imperiously questioning look she explained, “It’s just funny to hear you say what my baby sisters always do. But they are incapable of being impartial when it comes to me.”

      “I’m totally partial when it comes to you. I also happen to be absolutely right.”

      She again barely stopped herself from doing something impulsive. That was, more so than coming up to this suite. Something like throwing herself against his massive chest and smothering him in kisses. Which she might end up doing soon. Exposure to him was chipping away at any control she had left.

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