In Pursuit of His Wife Page 4
Protection. He would not attempt consummation without any form of birth control. He had made that quite clear earlier. In that case, she supposed she could be benevolent and allow him into the bed.
She questioned the wisdom of that reasoning when Sebastian entered the room, a thick white towel slung low on his hips. Even after all their years together, even after seeing him completely nude in the shower a few minutes ago, the sight of his lean swimmer’s physique still took her breath away. Many nights she had explored all the masculine planes and valleys, at first under his tutelage, until she had learned exactly how to touch him and kiss him. She had possessed a certain power over him during those times. She dearly wanted to experience that now...
“Sira, are you all right?”
Startled into reality, Nasira averted her eyes and shook off the recollections, though she could not shake the heat. “I am tired.”
“As am I,” he said as he approached the bed. “So exhausted I could sleep on the floor. Oh, that’s right. I’m supposed to do that very thing.”
Nasira pulled back the comforter and pointed to the opposite side of the mattress. “I am willing to take pity on you as long as you maintain a wide berth between us.”
He grinned. “You are most generous, my lady. And I promise I will be the perfect gentleman.”
If only she could believe that. “I will hold you to that promise.”
As Nasira slid beneath the covers, her husband returned to the bathroom then came back without the towel or any clothes whatsoever. “Could you possibly put something on, Sebastian?”
He frowned as he climbed into bed beside her. “Sweetheart, you know I prefer to have nothing on when I sleep. So do you.”
“We are guests in this house.”
He rolled onto his back and stacked his hands behind his head. “I highly doubt Rafe or Violet will do a bed check to make certain we’re appropriately dressed.”
That led Nasira to another question. “What did you and my brother discuss tonight?”
He continued to stare at the ceiling. “The strange ways of women and the complete ignorance of men.”
“Be serious.”
“I am.”
“Then please explain.”
“At times women say one thing, then do another, while most men are painfully honest. You’d rather spend a day shopping and men would rather engage in sports. Women want to discuss their feelings. Men would rather discuss something as dull as the weather to avoid that at all costs.”
“The last part is definitely accurate,” she muttered.
“Perhaps that’s because we don’t necessarily have deep feelings.”
“Or at least those you care to share.”
Too weary to continue the conversation, Nasira turned off the lamp and turned her back to her spouse. “Good night, Sebastian.”
“Sleep well, Sira.”
If only she could. For at least an hour, maybe more, Nasira tossed and turned, well aware that her naked husband was very near...and deep in throes of slumber, as evidenced by his steady breathing.
Little by little Nasira began to drift off and soon found herself immersed in an erotic state when Sebastian’s hand drifted to her breast. She reveled in the intimate stroking between her thighs. Once more she was captive to his skill and to her own sexuality. Another orgasm—the second one tonight—claimed her with remarkable force. Before the climax had completely calmed, Sebastian moved atop her then eased inside her. Steady thrusts, ragged breaths, undeniable mutual desire...
He whispered her name and she stroked his hair, as if nothing bad had ever transpired between them.
Then suddenly awareness dawned of what they were doing, and what they hadn’t done. “Sebastian,” she said in a harsh whisper. “We have to stop.”
When Sebastian tensed and shuddered, she recognized she had been too late with the warning.
After he finally rolled away, Nasira waited for his reaction and wondered if he was even aware of what had transpired. She received her answer when he sighed, sat up and muttered, “Bloody hell, what have we done?”
She snapped the light on and studied his profile. “Apparently we had unprotected sex.”
He shot her a borderline distressed look. “Apparently.”
“This is not all my fault, Sebastian. I told you to sleep on the rug.”
“You offered me the bed.”
“You did not have to accept.”
“You shouldn’t be so sexy.”
“You should have foregone the liquor.”
He raked a hand through his tousled hair. “It’s clearly futile to blame each other or concern ourselves with the consequences. What’s done is done.”
“If you are concerned about pregnancy, I was off the pill for almost a year before I conceived the last time. It is highly unlikely that would happen again after only one time.”
He appeared skeptical. “Unlikely but not impossible.”
Normally Nasira would be happy to know she might finally have a baby, but not with such serious problems still looming over them. “Would it be so horrible if I happened to be pregnant?”
After punching his pillow twice, Sebastian shifted onto his side, keeping his back to her. “That’s a discussion for another day.”
“A discussion we need to have very soon, Sebastian.”
“Would you prefer I move to the floor?” he asked after a few seconds of silence, reverting back to the man who refused to have any semblance of a meaningful conversation.
She preferred he stop clamming up. “It’s too late to concern ourselves about that now.”
“Then good night, Sira.”
“Good night, Sebastian.”
As she stared at the ceiling, Nasira wondered how she could feel so bereft after making love with her husband. It was as if they’d returned to the days before she had left London—she was suspended in a state of emotional gridlock with a spouse who constantly erected emotional walls. Could they get past the standoff? In the morning she would decide once and for all if finding out would be worth the potential heartache.
Three
Nasira awoke to an empty space beside her and a strong sense of regret. She could only imagine what Sebastian was thinking. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had already summoned the pilot of his posh corporate jet and flown back to London.
After showering and seeing to her morning routine, she dressed in white slacks and a sleeveless blue blouse, slid her feet into silver sandals and started downstairs to see if he had indeed left. When she heard the sound of two familiar male voices, she acknowledged she had been wrong in her assumptions, at least for the moment.
She reached the bottom landing, crossed the parlor and headed into the kitchen to find her husband and brother seated at the built-in banquette, having coffee together. They both quickly stood, looking as if they were errant schoolboys caught in a prank.
“Good morning, darling,” Sebastian said, taking her aback with his friendly tone. “Sleep well?”
She didn’t know if he was playing at being clueless or he didn’t remember what had happened between them. “I slept well enough.”
“Good because we have a busy day planned, thanks to Rafe.”
Nasira leveled her gaze on her brother. “What does that mean?”
“I will let Sebastian explain,” Rafe said as he started toward the parlor. “At the moment, I have to accompany Violet to speak with the caterer.”
With that, he rushed away, leaving Nasira alone with her husband. “I find it difficult to believe my brother would involve you in the wedding plans, so I assume we’re not expected to meet with the caterer.”
“You would be correct. I asked Rafe to find us suitable lodging and he has the perfect place.”
“Us?”
“Yes.”
“I never agreed to that.”
He gestured toward the chair Rafe had vacated. “Please sit so we can discuss this.”
“Yes, let’s.” She settled in to the seat and waited for him to continue.
“Would you like coffee? Or perhaps tea?” he asked.
“I would like orange juice.” And an explanation for why he clearly believed she would want to cohabitate with him, especially after his attitude last night.
He rose from the chair and walked to the refrigerator to retrieve the orange juice, poured her a glass and set it on the wooden table. He then took the chair opposite her and folded his hands before him. “I realize you left London to escape me, or perhaps our problems, but I am not willing to toss in the towel until we have explored all alternatives to remaining apart indefinitely.”
Neither was she, though she understood they might never be able to compromise on the issue of having children. They never would unless he decided to actually discuss it. “You believe the only way we can do that would be to live under the same roof?”
“Yes, I do.”
She had her doubts. “I know you, Sebastian. You will not tolerate a simple hotel room, and I do not believe you’ll find a penthouse suite anywhere near Royal. If I decide to do this, I refuse to reside too far away from Rafiq and Violet.”
“You’re right, but there are houses available.”
She suffered the second shock of the morning. “You purchased a house?”
He shook his head. “No. Rafe knows a man who is willing to open his home to us while he and the family travel abroad.”
Living in a stranger’s house did not seem like a favorable option. “What man?”
“His name is Sheikh Darin Shakir. I believe he hails from a country close to your homeland.”
She had heard the name bandied about by Mac. “I know of him. In fact, his reputation precedes him.”
Sebastian frowned. “In what way?”
“He killed a man several years ago.”
“He’s a bloody murderer?”
She gained some satisfaction from shocking her husband this time. “Actually, it is my understanding his love interest was being held captive by this criminal, forcing him to shoot the evildoer to save her life. Although I despise violence, I find the concept of coming to a woman’s rescue somewhat romantic.”
“I find resorting to murder somewhat disturbing.” Sebastian sat back and sighed. “Perhaps we should explore other avenues.”
“It’s past history, Sebastian. He is very well respected and in fact married to the woman he saved. They have several children.”
“Are you absolutely certain the man is safe? I refuse to put you in harm’s way.”
“As I’ve said, he is a hero in the town’s eyes. I also know my brother would never send me into a dangerous situation.”
Sebastian slapped his palms on the table and stood. “Then it’s settled. We shall go meet this knight in tainted armor and see if the house passes muster. We need to hurry since they will be leaving shortly after lunch for the trip.”
She refused to rush into the decision to join him. “I still have qualms about living together at this point in time.”
“What qualms?”
“First of all, although I came here to confront Rafe, I also intended to have time away from you to think.”
“On the contrary, last night you wanted to talk.”
He did present a valid point. “Yes, but I’m not certain you would be willing to do that.”
He rested his hand on the back of her chair. “If we decide the accommodations are suitable, I will strike a bargain with you.”
Always the negotiator. “Go on.”
“If you will give me one week and the arrangement doesn’t suit you, or if I don’t meet your expectations, then you are free to leave and I will return to the UK.”
She mulled the proposition over a moment and decided that it did seem fair. After all, she truly wanted to attempt to mend the relationship if at all possible. “All right. I will agree to your terms.”
“Great. Our chariot awaits.”
She pushed back from the table and came to her feet. “I wouldn’t consider that truck a chariot.”
“I had another vehicle delivered this morning from Dallas. One that is more suitable. You’ll see when I bring it around.”
“Believe it or not, I find that somewhat disappointing.”
He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, a habit he had established from the first night they had met. “Why is that?”
“Sedans do not have beds.”
Noting the look of sheer surprise on Sebastian’s handsome face, she turned to retrieve her purse and sunglasses, smiling all the way upstairs and back down again. Perhaps she should not be encouraging her husband in a sexual sense, yet she could not seem to resist the desire his presence had resurrected. The ever present need.
If they had to exist in close quarters, she should make the best of their time together for however long it might last. If they jointly decided their marriage was over, she would make more memories to carry with her to override the bad.
If luck prevailed, the Shakirs’ family home would be a happy place perfect for new beginnings.
* * *
“This isn’t a house, it’s a fortress.”
Nasira tore her gaze away from the massive white stone structure to glance at Sebastian. “And this veritable limousine you’ve leased goes quite well with it.”
He sent her a half smile. “It’s a Jaguar, Sira. Only the best for my bride.”
She didn’t bother to ask how he had acquired it simply because she did not care. She only cared about meeting the mysterious man who resided in the residence. And of course, the woman who had been worthy of his rescue.
As soon as Sebastian pulled to a stop beneath the portico, a dark-haired, dark-skinned man dressed in black shirt and slacks emerged from the double iron doors. Nasira recognized him from the photograph she had seen at the Texas Cattleman’s Club—Darin Shakir, sheikh extraordinaire.
He opened her door and greeted her with an intense look and a guarded smile. “Mrs. Edwards.”
“Sheikh Shakir,” she said as she slid out of the luxury sedan. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he said with a nod.
Sebastian rounded the hood and offered his hand to Darin. “I truly appreciate your offer, Sheikh Shakir.”
“You may call me Darin,” he replied. “I have never embraced my royal status.”
Nasira had also learned that about him, which could explain how he had settled in a place like Texas. Then again, so had her brother.
Darin showed them into the house where they were met by an attractive woman with red spiraling curls and bright green eyes. “Welcome to our home, you two. I’m Fiona Shakir.”
“I am Nasira Edwards, and this is my husband, Sebastian,” she said, beating her spouse to the punch.
At that moment, three dark-haired little boys entered the room and stood between the Shakirs like miniature soldiers. “These are our sons,” Darin said. “Halim, Kalib and Samir.”
Fiona rested her palm on the youngest one’s head. “Otherwise known as Hal, who’s ten, Kal, eight, and Sam, five.”
The pitter-patter of footsteps echoed in the marble entryway, drawing everyone’s attention to the little girl dashing into the foyer, her auburn-tinted curls bouncing in time with her gait. She immediately threw her arms around Darin’s legs, leading him to sweep her up. “And this is Liana, our youngest,” Darin said. “She will be three years old in three months.”
When the little girl touched her father’s face, and the stoic sheikh gave his daughter the softest look, Nasira’s heart melte
d. “You have a beautiful family.”
Fiona patted her belly. “Thank you, and in about five months, we’ll be expanding it with another boy.”
Nasira experienced a sense of awe and a slight sting of envy. “Four boys should be interesting.”
“Very interesting,” Sebastian said. “How do you manage caring for so many children?”
Fiona slid her arm around Darin’s waist. “With a lot of love and sharing.”
“And our nanny, Amelia,” Darin added.
“A part-time nanny,” Fiona amended. “When Amelia isn’t here, I’ve learned to be extremely organized out of self-defense. Otherwise the house will be utter chaos and I’ll be a raving maniac.”
Darin pointed behind him. “Boys, return to the playroom.” No sooner than he commanded it, the Shakir sons departed.
Fiona gestured toward the hall beyond the foyer. “Come inside and I’ll show you around.”
“I would enjoy seeing the livestock,” Sebastian said to Darin. “We can leave the wives to tour the house and talk about us when we’re out of earshot.”
Darin finally smiled. “I would be glad to show you the stables.”
“Take Liana with you,” Fiona said. “She’ll throw a fit if you walk outside without her.”
Sebastian looked somewhat alarmed. “Is it wise to take a child around the horses?”
Fiona smiled. “She’s fine as long as she’s supervised.”
Darin shifted Liana from one hip to the other. “We have several Arabians if you and your wife would like to ride.”
“It would be a pleasure,” Sebastian began, “yet I’m afraid my wife would probably balk at the idea.”
But Sebastian was wrong. “I would love nothing more than to go for a ride. I spent much of my youth on the back of a horse.”
Sebastian frowned. “You’ve never told me that in our ten years together.”
“You never asked.”
“Ten years?” Fiona interjected as if she sensed the tension. “Darin and I have been married that long. Do you two have children?”
Nasira swallowed around the nagging lump in her throat. “Not yet.”