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He bent over her, eyes black with need, and shoved her dress up around her waist. He yanked her panties down to her ankles and off, tossing them into a corner. And then he leaned down and pressed his lips to her hipbone, a hot, lingering kiss.
That was the only refuge from the storm of their want for each other. Rami climbed on the bed, nudging her knees apart while he reached for a condom in the bedside table, and Catelyn clawed at his shirt. She wanted him closer, and now. The moment his mouth was on hers again, she arched toward him. He was hard, already searching between her legs, and it took only a few movements of her hips to guide him in.
He filled her completely in one stroke, a low groan escaping from his lips. She was so aware of every air pocket the plane flew over, the bumps forcing him against every inch of her, and Rami was unrelenting. His hips rocked against her just so, a grinding rhythm against her clit, and it hauled her up and up and up toward release. She was swept under, resurfacing only to think—they can hear us, everyone on this plane can hear us—and then another rush of desire would flood her and she did not care. Let them listen if they wanted to.
Rami pulsed inside of her, driving in deep, and it shook her to the very top of her climax and shoved her over the edge into a passionate, almost violent, release. She’d tripped some wire in him, too, because he covered her mouth with his and shuddered with his own orgasm.
They lay there, frozen together, for many long heartbeats until Rami rolled off her, panting. He lay on his back on the bed. Catelyn struggled to slow her breathing.
“Wow,” said Catelyn.
He rolled over onto one elbow, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Again?”
As it was, they barely had time to freshen up before the plane descended into Al-Dashalid, and they returned to their seats in the main cabin. Catelyn watched the country rise up beneath her, and a nervousness she hadn’t felt before gripped her chest.
“I can’t get off the plane like this.” She put her fingers to her lips. “My hair—my dress—”
“Don’t let it worry you.” Rami still sounded sex-drunk and pleased. “I’ve got a shawl you can wear over the dress. And your hair looks lovely.”
The plane touched down, and there was no one to hold them up—it was a simple walk to the stairs and then down. Catelyn held the shawl close around her shoulders, Rami’s hand on her back guiding her toward—
A man.
And behind him, a clutch of photographers, clicking away.
She turned her head to speak to Rami. “Who—”
But there wasn’t enough time. “Catelyn,” he said in a voice meant to be heard by all of them. “This is my brother, Issam. Issam, this is my wife, Catelyn.”
Issam, who was as handsome as Rami but broader, more defined, took Caitlin’s hand in his and kissed her knuckles, his eyes dancing. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, and she knew it had some kind of double meaning.
“Well, I am.” Catelyn raised her chin, still smiling at him. “You’d better get used to it.”
9
Issam wouldn’t shut up about the conspiracy.
“Now that you’re here,” he said from the opposite seat in the high-end SUV that whisked them through the streets toward the palace, “I have to know. Was it a conspiracy?”
She looked at him carefully and reached for Rami’s hand, twining her fingers through his. “I think a conspiracy would have had to involve a lot of people,” she offered.
“So you had a team,” insisted Issam. His eyes glinted with some combination of amusement and suspicion.
“I have a team at my business. But as for the blog post—”
“The blog post is most interesting,” Issam cut in. He’d started talking about it the moment they’d climbed into the SUV, and it seemed as if he’d never stopped. “There are so many rumors.”
“Issam—” Rami warned.
“It’s only speculation.” Issam spread his hands in front of him. “There are some in the royal household who think that maybe the post was written for a purpose.”
“It was.” Caitlin fought to keep irritation out of her voice. Issam was pushy, and she was beginning to think he wasn’t a particularly nice man, but first impressions counted. She needed to make this year as easy for them as possible. That had been a simple decision to make after they’d emerged from the bedroom of the plane, neither of them speaking about what had happened there. The sex was strictly against the arrangement they’d made, but it was too good to pass up. A real conundrum. Catelyn wanted to think about it in peace, only Issam—
“What purpose?”
She glanced at Rami. “The purpose of getting my wedding-planning business some attention.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard,” replied Issam. “I’ve heard that it was a—” He made a show of considering the best word to use. “A lure. To get Rami to find you and marry you.”
