Modern Romance July 2018 Books 5-8 Collection. Annie West

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СКАЧАТЬ those vacations he’d manage the most urgent matters via email and phone for a few hours a day, since the business of ruling could never be avoided completely.

      Now, however, he hadn’t had an opportunity to reorganise his schedule to accommodate a break. Sayid struggled to cram his normal workload and his time with Lina into too-short days. It drove him crazy, for he couldn’t get enough of her. He’d sit in meetings, distracted by the memory of her and the sex they’d had, or planning the sex they’d have when his interminable day of appointments was over.

      He should have planned this better, so he could take her somewhere and devote himself to the passion searing just as white-hot now as it had been in the beginning. Each day it became more apparent that seven nights with her in his bed wouldn’t be enough.

      The idea scraped like a rusty spike through his belly. He’d never needed more than a week with any woman, no matter how charming or beautiful.

      For Lina’s sake, he maintained the illusion they weren’t lovers. He refused to risk her reputation even more by clearing his diary and whisking her off to a secluded love nest. Publicly they were ward and guardian. Sayid was conscious of the need to protect her from gossip that would make things difficult for her when they separated. He could only hope loyalty from the staff who knew her suite adjoined his would prevent gossip.

      Yet each day Sayid found himself altering his schedule to see her. Yesterday he’d suggested to Senhor Neves that his wife might like to join them on a site visit so she could see the countryside. As she and Lina had become friends, and the Portuguese interpreter was only slowly recovering from illness, Lina came too.

      Sayid’s attention had strayed time and again. He spent far too much time noticing the way Lina got on, not just with the foreigners, but the locals who’d come to hear about the mine project.

      There’d been concerns about environmental issues, which was why Sayid himself had attended. But the meat of the concerns hadn’t been raised straight away. Initially discussions were stilted and formal, to be expected between a ruler and his people, yet frustrating when Sayid wanted to hear the truth. Specific fears had only been raised after he’d lingered over mint tea with the local sheikh and his extended family, and the womenfolk had broken the ice, establishing a surprising level of rapport that eased the whole discussion.

      Sayid understood his Minister for Education’s comments about Lina’s charm being worth a dozen professional consultants. For years Sayid had sought to establish a better relationship with his people and he’d made some progress, but being supreme ruler created an automatic distance. With Lina bridging that gap it was much easier. He’d learned more about local concerns in that one morning visit than he had in six official reports.

      Now, today Sayid cancelled a late meeting in order to accept an invitation he’d usually politely decline. A wedding feast celebrated by the community he’d visited last week, when he’d seen the bride-to-be and Lina practising a bridal dance.

      ‘They will be thrilled at your attendance,’ his secretary, Makram, said as he frowned down at his diary. ‘It will be an unexpected honour.’ Valiantly he sought to suppress his curiosity.

      Much as he valued Makram, Sayid had no intention of explaining his decision to attend. This time it had nothing to do with being more accessible to his people and everything to do with Lina. She’d be at the wedding which would run into the evening.

      Sayid had bitten back a protest at the news. When his official duties were done each day he wanted her with him.

      Surely she was as eager as he to be alone together?

      As if reading his carefully camouflaged discontent she’d admitted she’d prefer to return early, but she’d given her word to be there for the dancing.

      Sayid was torn between annoyance and admiration at her determination to keep her word.

      Which was how he found himself, as the sun set, guest of honour at festivities on the edge of the desert. City dwellers though they were, these families kept the Halarqi custom of marking major events outdoors.

      It had been a long time since Sayid attended such a celebration. That explained his interest in the dancers. Yet it was hard not to stare at the one wearing an indigo dress with crimson and silver ornamentation.

      Every dip and sway of Lina’s body reminded him of how she responded to the thrust of his own when he took her. The spiralling, delicate movements of her fluttering hands and slim arms recalled the feel of her fingers raking his scalp, as she hugged him tight. The supple, whirling movements, almost balletic in their precision, made him recall in heated detail her passionate physicality.

      Lina was no shrinking violet in bed. She was exuberant and responsive. She never denied him and was gratifyingly enthusiastic as he expanded her sexual experience.

       They were an excellent match.

      Heat speared his lower body as her eyes caught his. The silver collar around her throat shifted as she turned and Sayid caught a hint of redness at the base of her neck.

      Stubble rash. He’d forgotten to shave last night and this morning she’d borne evidence of his caresses across her neck, breasts and lower.

      Seeing the marks of his passion stirred guilt.

      And a disquieting possessiveness.

      As if he wanted to brand her publicly, announcing his ownership so no other man would dare look at her the way they did now—avid and enthusiastic.

      Sayid hated the unfamiliar sense of powerlessness he experienced, unable to claim her as his, to stop others salivating over her. He could proclaim her his mistress but for her sake he didn’t.

      ‘Your Highness?’ He turned to find his host bowing low. ‘Would it please you to see the archery?’

      Sayid wanted to stay here, watching Lina. Which was why he instantly got to his feet. He was not and never had been the sort of man to sigh over a woman.

      ‘I’d be delighted. And are those preparations for a riding display too?’

      He turned away from the dancing, ignoring an internal pang of protest. He refused to behave like a smitten teenager who had eyes for no one but his girl. Yet walking away was far harder than anything else he’d done all day.

      * * *

      ‘Isn’t he spectacular?’ The girl next to her sighed. ‘I wish my parents could find me a man like that to marry.’

      Lina’s chest tightened, squeezing her lungs, or was it her heart? It had to be from the exertion of the dance. It was nothing to do with the idea of Sayid as a bridegroom, about to marry some eager young woman.

      For it was Sayid they watched.

      They’d seen the end of the archery contest, drawn by the gasps and applause of the crowd. To Lina’s surprise Sayid had wielded a powerful bow as easily as she did a needle and thread. To the crowd’s delight, and hers, he’d only been beaten by a single shot in the last round. The winner turned out to be the state champion but it was their Emir who the crowd applauded.

      Now, rather than retiring to the seat provided for him, Sayid joined some of the other men in a display of horsemanship.

      Of course he rode. He had the heavily muscled thighs СКАЧАТЬ