The Sheik and the Princess in Waiting(Desert Rogues, Book 7)(27) by Susan Mallery
“These are supposed to be my clothes,” she said as he shook his head over a dark pants suit she quite liked.
“Too severe,” he told her. “The cut is too loose.”
“I can’t spend my day flashing cle**age at the world.”
“No. That you save for me.”
Instinctively she pressed a hand against the vee neck of the suit. Was he talking as the powerful husband and prince or as man? Were they different? She stared at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking and what he wanted from her. The strong, handsome lines of his face gave away nothing.
But his words had made her aware of him again. While she’d been busy trying on outfit after outfit she’d been able to forget the tension lurking just under the surface. She’d managed to forget how much she liked being close to him and how he’d made her feel when he’d kissed her. Now she remembered everything.
“This will be fabulous,” Aimee said when Emma returned to the dressing room. The older woman held out a strapless beaded gown in bronze. “The color will bring out the fire in your hair. Perhaps the prince will buy you a necklace of yellow diamonds to complete the look.”
Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. Emma didn’t think that soon-to-be divorced wives rated rare gemstones. Of course she hadn’t thought they rated new wardrobes, either.
After stripping off the pants suit, she studied the dress. No way was she going to be able to keep on her bra. Aimee stepped outside to give her privacy, so Emma continued undressing until she stood in just her panties, then she stepped into the elegant gown.
It fit her perfectly, sliding over her hips as if it had been made for her.
Aimee returned with a pair of strappy sandals and some combs to hold back Emma’s hair.
“Excellent,” the woman said approvingly. “You look exactly like the princess you are.”
Emma glanced in the mirror, then did a double take. She did look royal, or at least elegant in a way she never had before.
“I guess clothes really do make the woman,” she murmured as she walked out into the salon.
Reyhan looked up from a newspaper, then rose to his feet and nodded. “Yes. That is exactly right. You are stunning.”
“Thank you. The dress is amazing and I know it fits great, but there’s no way I’m going to keep it.”
“Reyhan, where will I ever wear it? I really appreciate your interest in my wardrobe, but be serious. This isn’t me.”
He dropped the paper onto the small table by his chair and walked toward her.
When he was less than a foot away, he stopped and looked into her face.
She met his gaze and felt the impact of his intense stare. Heat grew until she felt uncomfortable in the strapless gown. She wanted to tug down the hidden zipper and let the dress pool at her feet. She wanted to be naked before him.
Naked and vulnerable and slick with wanting. Need made her ache deep inside. Her thighs trembled.
“It pleases me to buy you these things,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Why do you object?”
Why, indeed. At this moment, she could deny him nothing. If only he would say that he wanted her. If only he would touch her. Anywhere. Her arms, her face, her br**sts. She felt her tight ni**les rub against the soft lining of the gown and wished the contact to be against Reyhan’s palms instead.
She didn’t speak the words, but somehow he heard. Fire erupted in his eyes. His muscles tensed and his breathing quickened.
When his gaze shifted to the entrance to the dressing room, she knew what he was thinking. That they could be alone there. Right now. No waiting, no wondering if it was right. Just a man and woman taking pleasure in each other.
It was insane to even consider such a thing, but she wanted to. Desperately.
The click of heels on the tile floor cut through the erotic silence. Before Emma could object, Aimee came out of the back room and Reyhan turned away. It was as if the moment had never been. Reluctantly she returned to the dressing room and took off the dress.
Later, when their limo was filled with boxes and bags from the boutique, and Reyhan sat so carefully at the opposite end of the long leather seat, she tried to figure out what was going on between them.
Six years ago, after their brief marriage ceremony, they’d retired to a hotel suite and spent three days together. Emma remembered the intimacy of making love with him. There had been little desire on her part. Mostly she’d felt embarrassment, fear and occasionally pain. The more Reyhan had wanted her, the more scared she’d become. When he’d been called back to Bahania, she’d been grateful.
Back then she’d simply endured his desires, whereas now she shared them. What was different? Her? Had she grown up to the place where she could meet Reyhan as an equal? Had he changed? Was it chemistry or timing? Was it a quirk of fate that she would find herself falling for a man who planned on divorcing her then have her disappear from his life forever?
Emma paced the length of her suite. She’d already unpacked her beautiful clothes and admired them while trying not to look at the price tags. Some of her evening gowns cost as much as a good used car. She had no idea where she would wear them, but that was really the least of her problems. Instead there was the pressing matter of Reyhan.
What was going on between them? Was acting on their mutual attraction a good thing or would it make her a nominee for idiot of the year? Should she say something to him? Ask him if he’d changed his mind about the divorce? Ask him if he just wanted her for sex? Ignore the whole thing and count the hours until she headed back for Dallas?
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