Page 34 of Sheikh's Secret Love-Child

He was so big and he held her so easily. He made her feel fragile. Delicate. Precious...and she’d never felt like that in her life.

Shona waited to feel ashamed. To feel that kick of self-disgust. Or that same mocking voice that had chased her since the moment she’d stepped into this dress, telling her what a fool she was making of herself. Telling her how little she belonged here.

In this palace. With this man.

Telling her things she knew, down deep in her bones, were nothing more than the truth.

Because even before he’d become a king, she’d known that Malak wasn’t for her. That the one night she’d had with him was more than she deserved.

But right now, she couldn’t chase after those things the way she knew she probably should have, because all she could feel was Malak. He was still deep in her body, still broad and deep. He was made of steel and heat and he surrounded her. She could feel him when she breathed.

Everywhere.

As if he was a part of her.

“Look at you,” Malak said quietly, and her eyes flew to his. Her heart kicked at her as she waited for that other shoe to hit her again, for him to say some of the things she’d already thought herself, to cast her aside the way she thought he should—but there was nothing but approval on his face. Nothing but that same lust and fire in his dark green eyes. “Look at us. How can you possibly doubt that you belong right here?”

Shona didn’t know if he meant here in the palace, or here in his arms. And she didn’t know why she didn’t ask. Why she didn’t scrape and claw at him with her bitter sarcasm the way she normally would have.

It was almost as if something inside of her had hushed. As if the volume of all that noise she carried around inside of her had been turned down.

And it didn’t feel as if she’d lost something. It felt like a relief.

He didn’t wait for her to answer. His eyes still blazed as he reached between them to disengage himself. And Shona couldn’t help the small noise she made when he pulled out of her.

Malak stood, taking her with him as he rose. He set her on her feet before him, and then took a moment to tuck himself back into his trousers. Shona smoothed down her full skirt and thought it had been easier five years ago, in the dark of a hotel room. She’d drifted off to sleep and when she’d woken up again, he’d been gone.

No reflections in mirrors to contend with. No need to come up with any awkward conversation.

She searched for something, anything, to say. But Malak had other ideas. He swept her up into his arms again, then lifted her high against his chest, and that was better. Easier, anyway.

Shona had always imagined surrender differently. Drowning, maybe. But this was as easy as stepping into a warm bath.

And far, far better.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he began to move.

Malak didn’t look down at her. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he walked, carrying her down the corridors of his palace.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he said, and his voice was still all fire and greed. It twisted through her and lit her up all over again. “Not nearly.”

And Shona thought on some level that she should fight that. Fight him. She should fight because that was what she did.

It was the only thing she’d ever known how to do. Her only skill. The only thing in this world she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she did well.

But she didn’t have it in her. Not tonight. Not here in a palace so far away from anything and everything she’d ever known.

So instead she rested her head against Malak’s shoulder, let her eyes drift shut and let him carry her wherever he pleased.

* * *

When Shona woke in the morning she had no idea where she was.

It wasn’t a new sensation.

Waking up without knowing where she was, in fact, was one of Shona’s least favorite things in the world. She felt it in her stomach first, that sickening little lurch that she remembered all too well, because nothing felt familiar. She opened her eyes to find herself staring at something that didn’t make any sense.

She could see bold red fabric shot through with gold, but she knew her bedroom here was done up in creams and blues.