as far removed from his position as dutiful sheikh as he could allow himself to be.
Fully cognizant he needed to make the night special so Angele would lose her fear of intimacy between them, there was still no denying that making love to her in this wayâwithout the benefit of an official weddingâwas not the action of a dutiful, responsible sheikh of his people. An internal voice, that sounded suspiciously like one of his mentors, chided him. Telling him there were other ways he could have allayed Angeleâs fears.
The simple truth, as unexpected as it had been to realize, was that Zahir wanted Angele. He found her more sexually desirable than heâd ever allowed himself to realize. The years they had waited to formalize their engagement, much less marry, had taken a toll on him as well. Though he had not known it.
He had forced himself never to think of her sexually. At first, because she had been so young and later because that part of his psyche was reserved for Elsa.
He now accepted that Angele was the ideal woman to share his bed and had been all along.
He pulled her back into his arms. âAre you ready to continue this night out of time?â
Her doe-soft eyes darkened with desire and she nodded before angling her head in a clear invitation to kiss.
It was an invitation he would never reject again.
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Angele woke to pleasurable, never before experienced aches in her body. No doubt the pain would be acute but for the two soaking baths Zahir had insisted she share with him the night before.
A night filled with more passion and pleasure than she had ever thought possible.
The temptation to ask him to maintain their status quo as promised for future marriage was so strong, sheâd literally had to bite her tongue to keep it back as they said their goodbyes in the wee hours of morning.
Though she would have much preferred waking in Zahirâs arms at least one time in her life, she understood his concern with the possibility their tryst would be discovered if she did not leave while all but the security men on duty slept. So, she had gone, her body sated and her heart filled with longing for what would never be.
Although she had showered with Zahir before leaving his rooms, she took another bracing one in semi-cool water now. She needed every trick to maintain her resolve.
She packed quickly, leaving out the four envelopes she had prepared before stepping foot in Zohra.
One held a letter to her pseudouncle, the King of Jawhar telling him she was backing out of the agreement to marry Zahir sometime in the distant future. She apologized, pleaded with him not to hold her father accountable for her choices and told him she wouldunderstand if he no longer recognized her as part of his family. Her heart would have broken at the prospect, but it had shattered all those months ago when sheâd first seen evidence of Zahirâs affection for Elsa Bosch and there wasnât anything left to break.
Or so she told herself.
The second envelope was similar to the first, only the letter inside was written to Zahirâs father. In this one she once again apologized and begged the king to consider her actions her own and in no way a reflection on her pseudouncle or her own parentsâas none were aware of her growing discontent with the agreement as it stood.
The third envelope was thicker. It contained a letter to Zahir, this one the only one she had written this morning. She thanked him for their one special night and told him she would never forget it.
She also explained about the enclosed pictures, detailing when she had first received them and how. She gave him as much information regarding the blackmail as she could, including a list of payments she had made and how she had done so. She assured him she had told no one, not even her parents of the pictures or the blackmail monies she had paid.
She hoped he would discover how best to keep them out of circulation, for his sake as
Madonna King, Cindy Wockner