Cinderella and the Sheikh

chapter Two



"...The imam droned on like he would never stop. As he did, the lizard crawled farther up my cousin's trousers..."

Libby put her napkin over her mouth to cover her smile.

Rasyn's face darkened. "Don't do that. A man wants to see his beauty’s smile."

The wine was definitely going to her head. Or maybe it was the close contact of a prince determined to convince her that he loved her. "Does a man want to see his beauty snort champagne through her nose?"

"Every day." Rasyn laughed, a warm sound that filled the room. When he laughed like that, she forgot that he came from a long line of royalty, forgot that the price of the suit he wore would pay her rent for a year, and she forgot that only that morning, she had wanted to avoid him more than anyone on the planet. And she nearly forgot that she was putting her precious job at risk.

Libby looked away, unable to stand the sincerity in his gaze. The food had been amazing, the wine better. Rasyn's stories of his home had painted an exotic portrait of a magical place.

"Dance with me." Rasyn rose from the table.

Not a good idea. Danger signals flashed in her head. They were nearly as loud as the desire throbbing in her pulse.

"I shouldn't..." But it was too late for warnings. Her fingers were already settling into his open palm.

Chills went through her as he caressed her knuckles with his thumb. "I will never ask anything more of you."

"That's what you said about dinner."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. "I lied. Come, dance with me."

One dance meant nothing, she told herself. She'd dance with him, then go home and get ready for tomorrow's shift. No one would find out. She’d keep drawing her paycheck long after the prince had departed the hotel.

She meant to keep a few inches between their bodies, but Rasyn had other ideas. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. The silken strains of a slow ballad about lost love wafted in the background, but she couldn't pay any attention. Rasyn set the rhythm. She couldn't do anything but follow.

Every part of his body pressed against hers. A solid chest to lean her cheek on. A protective arm enfolding her. She felt her defenses crumbling.

"This is not so bad, is it, Princess?"

Libby stiffened. "Please, don't call me that."

"Why not? You are as lovely as any princess."

"Don't, please." She couldn't stand him using that pet name. It just highlighted the gulf between them. He was royalty and she was a waitress. But she wasn’t naïve enough to imagine he considered her his equal in any sense of the word. He was a man who expected to be obeyed, to have his wishes fulfilled.

Warm, firm lips brushed her temple, feather-light. The intimate touch set her belly quivering. He traced her hairline with gentle fingers, tucking away the stray lock that always escaped her ponytail. Those same fingers traveled the curve of her ear and down her nape.

By the time he tilted her chin up, all her resistance had vanished. His mouth met hers with melting tenderness. The light brush, over too quickly, left her lips tingling for more.

She knew she should break it off. Go home. Every sensible fiber in her body screamed that the prince’s beautifully spoken words couldn’t be sincere. But all the logic in the world couldn’t fight the tingling warmth in her veins. Instead, she pressed closer to him, straining to offer herself for another kiss. He didn’t hesitate.

His kiss intoxicated her more than the champagne, sending bubbles of desire down her spine. He tasted like the chocolate they'd eaten earlier and smelled like pepper warmed by the sun.

As he deepened the kiss, teasing open her teeth to let him inside, her knees weakened with pleasure. Her mindless instinct was to grab him and never let go. Her hands fisted in his shirt.

As if he'd been waiting for that signal, Rasyn broke the kiss and lifted her from her feet. The solid ground beneath her disappeared and she could only cling to him for support.

In a few steps, they were in the bedroom. The pit of Libby's stomach curled with desire; her mind pounded with the knowledge she was putting her job and her self-worth on the line for a man she hardly knew. No, it was time to be practical, she decided, as he set her on the bed's scarlet and gold silk coverlet.

"My love." Standing at the edge of the bed, he whispered the words, a private thing for her ears only.

The sensual promise in that one word chased all doubts from her. It was crazy, but she wanted this, wanted to feel desired and loved, even for only one night, and even though she knew that they could never be true partners, as her parents had been.

She reached for him, running her hand up to his shoulder and pulling him down. He bent to unfasten the clip that held her hair as he put his lips to her throat. She shuddered with the pleasure of his mouth on the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe.

As she pushed his suit jacket from his shoulders, he began to whisper into her ear, soft words in a language she didn't understand. Libby had never felt anything as sensual as his hot breath. Never heard anything as erotic as the words that spilled out of him.

She reached between them and undid his belt, desperate now to feel his naked body against her. Rasyn seemed to feel the same, making short work of her uniform, which soon lay crumpled on the floor. When nothing was between them, Rasyn paused, looking down at her. Libby's blood rushed to her cheeks with the need to cover her fleshy body.

Rasyn's black eyes shone with open admiration and hunger as he cupped the curve of her breast. "You are beautiful."

"I need to lose ten pounds," she blurted, thinking of the slim, haughty women whose eyes had tracked Rasyn through the hotel. "I'm size thirteen."

Rasyn laughed. "You're my size. You will fit me perfectly. Shall I try you on?"

He didn't wait for her answer, but rolled onto the bed with her, and dipped his head to take one peaked breast into his dark mouth. Hot pleasure lanced to her core, driving everything from her mind except the feel of his rough tongue flicking and sucking at her sensitive nipple.

Lying next to him, Libby moaned at each new ripple of desire. She threaded her fingers through his silken black locks. The scent of their desire perfumed the air with hot musk.

When she thought the pleasure couldn't increase, he slipped his fingers between her legs. It had been so long since she'd felt a man there that it was almost more than she could bear. She melted beneath his masterful touch as he rubbed and flicked the pearl of her body.

"You are ready for me, love." He settled his thighs between hers.

Though she was drowsy with pleasure, some small part of her hadn't lost all its logic. That part screamed in protest. Something was wrong. It took her a second to identify it.

"Con-dom," she stuttered.

He bent down for a long soul kiss, meant to steal her reason. It almost worked, but her logical side screamed louder. She reached between them to wrap her hand around his erection and prevent him from entering her.

"Condom," she insisted.

His face darkened for an instant, but only an instant. "Of course."

After he had wrapped himself, she parted her knees. He didn’t need more encouragement and entered her in a smooth thrust. She gasped at the solid feel of him deep inside.

He began to move, a slow rocking that caressed the most intimate parts of her body. She closed her eyes, letting the darkness intensify the sensations moving through her. Her hands wandered over Rasyn's backside, fondling taut skin stretched over hard muscle.

His stroking became harder, more urgent, as the need built between them. Overwhelmed with the sound of his groans as he loved her, the peppery scent of his body, and the hardness of him in her, Libby tripped over the edge. She cried out as she let go and fell into the pleasure his body gave her.

Rasyn's thrusts quickened. The veins of his neck popped beneath his skin as he bellowed his own orgasm and collapsed next to her.



***



When the flush of climax faded, Libby plucked the snoring sheikh's arm off her stomach and slid from the bed.

Unbelievable. She'd actually fallen for his expensive seduction.

For a moment, she gazed down at his sleeping form and handsome features, wondering if he’d truly meant even one of the sweet words he’d whispered. Did it matter? The deed was done. This was no time to criticize herself for taking risks. Plenty of time for that after she'd gotten home.

She tiptoed over to her pile of her clothes and plucked them from the floor on her way out of the bedroom. Back in the suite lounge, she exhaled a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She dressed as quickly as she could in the darkness.

One problem. One of her black flats had gone missing. Libby allowed herself a swear word under her breath and got on her knees to check beneath the couch for the shoe.

She couldn't see the cursed shoe anywhere. At least I still have my dignity. Then, realizing that she was on her hands and knees searching for a missing shoe in a hotel room at midnight, risking rug burn, she flushed with humiliation.

Libby picked herself up, dusted off her knees, held her head high, and left the sheikh's hotel suite, letting the door's lock click behind her.