The Sheikh's Hidden Heir: Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby / The Sheikh's Claim / The Return of the Sheikh. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
seemed strange to Felicity to be massaging her pulsepoints with oil of wood, but the fragrance was heady, and she remembered again him holding her that night, before it had all gone so wrong. She did what Bedra had done, and placed a slim silver dish of almond oil by the bed, waiting for him, as nervous as any bride on her wedding night.
He was ‘too tired’ to talk when he came to bed. He shrugged onto his side, with his back to her, and promptly feigned sleep. Yet she could feel his tension, could feel the black energy in the bed. When finally he did sleep he rolled over and held her, just as he did most nights. His hand in sleep on her belly made her weep.
She was protecting him from himself, Felicity knew. The man he really was would never jeopardise the safety of his baby. She turned over and stared at him.
She touched him.
She felt his body, reluctant, angry, even in sleep.
‘I won’t have the test, Karim.’ She spoke to darkness, and didn’t know whether or not he was listening, but she told him, warned him, begged to his soul to listen to her plea. ‘I will not take the risk, however small, just to appease—’
‘Felicity.’ Annoyed with himself for having rolled towards her, he turned away from her again. ‘Can we get through these next days?’
He willed sleep to come again. For Karim it was going to be a long night, made bearable only by having her beside him. He had considered taking a wife, but only for the sake of duty. There would be no real benefit to him. There had been so many lovers, so many women, and he had felt so many pleasures. Yet after the grim conversation he had had on the phone to his brothers insomnia had beckoned. He had never expected to feel peace this night—his father’s operation looming, so many decisions to be made. Yet climbing in beside her, angry with her, with himself, with his brothers, with his father, suddenly all there was was the dark tent and silence, and the musky scent of her that gently spirited him to a better place. Hearing her breathe beside him had brought a rare peace that was unexpected.
Perhaps the future was a touch more bearable with her in his bed at night. And then she had awoken him.
And now he couldn’t sleep.
He didn’t want the test either—didn’t want to find out the truth. This wretched time was only bearable because of her. Her scent was too heavy, too much woman lay untouched in the bed beside him. He considered asking her to go and bathe, to remove that fragrance so he might rest, except he didn’t want to.
‘I cannot sleep,’ he admitted, half an hour of silence later.
‘Would this help?’
‘What?’ He heard the nervousness in her voice.
‘This.’ Her hands were at his shoulders and softly she stroked them. She could feel the knot of tension in the muscles beneath the silken skin, felt him arch his neck as she smoothed a hard knot. ‘Does it help?’
And because it seemed it did she gently guided him to turn to his stomach. She wanted this closeness as much as him—wanted this chance for Karim to see sense before morning came.
She knew what Bedra had meant now, was glad for the silver dish of almond oil that was by the bed. Felicity dipped her fingers in it, rubbed it the length of his back, moving her thumbs along his vertebra, her oiled fingers pushing into his loins then up towards his shoulders. She felt the tension seep slowly from him, and when it had, when he was relaxed beneath her, she peeled off her nightgown and turned him over. She dipped her fingers back in the oil as those black eyes caressed her body. She rubbed the sweet potion into him, slid it into the thick black hair, and cupped him tenderly in her hand.
‘You know too much.’ He grabbed her wrist. ‘For one so innocent, you know way too much.’
‘I know nothing,’ Felicity corrected. ‘Except what my body tells me—what your body shows me it wants.’
She meant it. Always sex had been feared, yet with Karim it was instinctive, her body, her hands, guided by more than her mind, by more than just thought.
The oil in her palm made him slide through her fingers, no grip in her hold as she touched him. Her two hands slid in perpetual motion, feeling him grow. Even as he slipped out of her grip the other hand was waiting to slide up to his peak, an endless tunnel that closed around his member. She was enchanted, feeling him grow strong in her hand, feeling his mind weaken. This proud, contained, distant man was coming close now to the man she had first met, the man she had first loved.
His eyes were soft as he took in her body. ‘Your body is changing.’ It was his first real acknowledgment of her pregnancy, and it made her melt.
‘Feel it, then,’ Felicity whispered, because touch brought closeness.
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