She arched beneath him, in a fever, opening her legs around him, clamping them high on his back. “Please, my love, I can’t take anymore…just take me when I know it’s in love this time. Love me, let me love you…”

He stroked into her, invaded her, surrendered, and that was all it took to bring them to ecstasy. This time, when he jetted his seed into her womb, he roared his love. And he was freed, free, completed, complete.

“Of course I know it’s been six weeks…” Farah bit her lip as she put the phone away from her ear at the tirade that exploded on the other end. “Bill, will you calm down?” She raised her voice into the mouthpiece before venturing to put the receiver to her ear again. “I will do the analysis today, promise.” She paused, and Shehab couldn’t hold back anymore, walked to her, swept her up in his arms, took her to the couch, sat down with her on his lap, smoothed her, soothed her. She gave him a look that was a cross between gratitude at his solicitude and aggravation at Bill’s fit. Then she finally exhaled. “OK, OK, Bill. Don’t give yourself another coronary. I’ll come back. As soon as I can arrange it.”

She ended the call, looked up at him, apologetic.

He only growled. “You don’t have to take orders from him anymore. As my wife you can buy him out a dozen times over.”

A look of bliss came over her face the moment he said wife. She melted in his arms, memories of their tempestuous, magical night written in her expression, fusing his insides with love and longing for a continuation.

She came up from another surrender to their deepening bond, gasping, and chiding him. “First of all, I’m not marrying you for access to your limitless funds and power. Second, this isn’t about money. Bill is sort of the only friend I have, and he needs me.”

He grappled with the need to tell her to let Bill go to hell. “I accept and understand that.” And he did. He knew he was enough for her, but if others enriched her life in any way, struck an extra ray of happiness in her heart, he’d cherish them, too, do everything so she’d have them in her life. But…“He won’t raise his voice to you again, though, or he’ll suffer.”

“Oh, he’s just all bark. With me, at least. In fact, he’s sort of comforting. Dad used to be the same, and it’s sort of nostalgic having a father figure with the same audio effects.”

“You keep stopping me from defending you, with all this misguided compassion.” She started to protest and he only kissed her. “And though it aggravates me, since I can’t let my wrath loose on all who’ve ever given you a moment’s discomfort, it’s one of the endless things I love about you.”

“Oh, do you think you can arrange for me to have a list of those, in writing?” He gave her a hard, long kiss, swearing he’d arrange for her to have the moon if she only wished for it. She pulled back, panting. “So you’ll arrange for me to go back to L.A.?”

Shehab’s heart convulsed with trepidation. After the enchantment of the past six weeks, confessing their love had catapulted them to a higher level, one that kept getting higher with each moment of knowledge of each other’s love. And he dreaded the least change. But how could he deny her?

He couldn’t. He’d always give her anything before she even wished for it. “You think I’d send you back alone?”

She jumped in his arms, whooping in delight. “You’ll come with me?”

“To the ends of the earth, to hell and back, or even if there was no return ticket. So what’s a tiny skip to L.A.?”

The tiny, twenty-hour skip, reprising their memorable flight from L.A. to his island, was the reverse of everything that had taken place then. While then they’d spent it talking, and strictly outside the bedroom, this time they headed there the moment they boarded and didn’t come up for breath all through the flight.

But through the sensual delirium and emotional overload, Shehab felt anxiety and the need to pour out everything he was withholding from her, everything that was eating at him.

Yet he’d look at her, see and feel her adoration and bliss, and have his purpose defeated again and again. How could he cloud this perfection by bringing up the charade that had started it all? How could he cause her pain and disillusion if only for moments, before she believed she’d long stopped being an instrument for securing the throne of Judar?

It was only as he finally watched her walking into her work-place, turning every two steps to wave at him, that he knew.

He couldn’t put it off any longer.

As soon as he saw her again, he would divulge his identity, confess the whole truth, beg her forgiveness for the deception that had ceased to be one almost from the start.

And his magnanimous Farah would forgive him.

She turned around one more time before she disappeared behind the mirrored glass of the skyscraper’s entrance, blew him a kiss. He caught it, pressed it in both his hands to his lips, before taking it to his heart, where it took it and soared.

Yes. He’d confess, and she’d forgive and forget.

Then their lives would truly begin.

Ten

Farah floated all the way up to Bill’s office. She smiled left and right at all the people she knew or didn’t know. She even skipped as she passed Bill’s sedate personal assistant. She didn’t wait for anyone to announce her arrival, just sailed through his door.

She found him at his desk, his elbows resting on it, his head between his hands.

And all the jubilation that had been bubbling over inside her since Shehab had kneeled at her feet stilled. Besides Shehab, Bill was the strongest person she’d ever known. No matter what blows he sustained, personally or professionally, he weathered them all without any outward indication of pain or weakness. Now he looked spent, defeated.

She rushed over to him, and he raised a bruised gaze. “Your lover brought you back promptly, I see. Do you know who he is?”

She started at his harshness. So he knew why she’d taken the sabbatical. Figured. Bill would find out anything he put his mind to. But why was he glaring at her? Was he worried she might have divulged vital information about him during pillow talk? She had to put his mind to rest at once.

“Yes, of course I do, but…”

His harsh sigh cut across her qualification. “Lord, I wasn’t ready for this, even though I knew you were bound to change your mind about sleeping with men. And who better than this man, eh? Sleeping with him serves so many purposes.”

Farah’s discomfort metamorphosed gradually into confusion. Was something wrong with Bill? He was making no sense.

And he went on, making less and less sense. “Perhaps the world is telling me something, that I should admit it was me who pushed Stella away. But if I’ve had enough, got over the rage and heartache, maybe it’s time to see if she’s learned her lesson, too.” He glared at her again, his eyes blazing blue in his florid face. “But why didn’t you confide in me? Though I’m floored that, for once in your personal life, you’ve made one move that’s good business-in this case, the best business-I would have understood. Hell, I would have given you pointers.”

“OK, I’m calling your doctor. You’re talking gibberish.”

Bill sighed. “Who thought you’d have the sense to test-drive Judar’s crown prince before consenting to marry him? These royal Middle Eastern marriages are forever, after all. But from your blind expression as you walked in, seems you found Shehab Aal Masood’s sexual prowess…satisfying, to say the least.”

The world stopped. Became a vacuum.

It seemed hours later when it restarted with a screech and air tore into lungs that had collapsed with shock.

“You think Shehab is…” She coughed the hysterical giggle of someone who’d just escaped being hit by a bus. “But I can see how. The crown prince’s name is Shehab, too, huh? Guess it must be a popular name. Likening their sons to the grandeur and destruction of meteors must appeal to those desert lords. But Shehab’s last name is Aal Ajman. He’s the tycoon who-”

“I know exactly who he is. The tycoon who seemed to come out of nowhere three months ago. Aal Ajman is his mother’s family. I bet he didn’t think I’d investigate that when he created his alter ego…” He stopped, rose slowly to his feet, a tide of rage advancing over his face as everything seemed to fall in place in his mind. At the same moment it did in hers. “But I wasn’t his target with the deception, neither was the business world at large. You were. You refused to marry him, so he decided to con you…” He stopped again, horror replacing rage on his face. Or was it only a reflection of the one on hers?

But there was no horror inside her. Realizations too atrocious to register, to take in, bombarded her, like the meteors Shehab was named for. And like a meteor shower, they left only annihilation in their wake. The nothingness of wreckage.

Shehab. He was not the man she thought she knew to the farthest reaches of intimacy. He was the prince her newfound father had said she must marry. The one she’d refused to even hear about. She’d thought she had a choice. But she’d had none. He’d hunted her down to have her rescind her refusal, relinquish her will, surrender her heart and soul, her life. Things he had no use for. He’d been talking about himself when he’d described how Dan had manipulated her, taken from her, when he’d reviled the gift she’d made of herself.

She’d felt his exploitation that first night, too. She’d just been too ignorant to suspect its truth, then too eager to disbelieve her senses and believe his coaxing.

How he must have hated to perform for her benefit, how he must have loathed every second in her company, must be seething with impatience until he could discard the pawn he’d been forced to cater to, to make her obey his tribal laws.