would be soon.
Not until after Iris had left Kadar, though … from his attitude she was pretty certain of that.
A small voice in her heart asked why that woman could not be Iris? For once, her usually analytical brain could not give an adequate answer. Why couldn’t she be Nawar’s mom and Asad’s wife?
Iris would love Nawar as if she’d given her birth; she was close to doing so already. There was something about the small girl that Iris identified with, a vulnerability she understood all too well. Iris knew what it was to be abandoned emotionally by a parent; she would never let the little girl experience that pain at her own hands.
Beyond that, their relationship six years ago had proven she and Asad were compatible in and out of bed. They had been best and truest friends. That compatibility was very much in evidence again today. As was their friendship, maybe even a deeper one.
They’d shared things they never would have six years ago, being open in ways that they hadn’t been then.
And it felt right and good.
So, why not her?
Iris might not be a snooty Middle Eastern princess, but that was a benefit to her way of thinking. Neither Nawar nor Asad had done so well the first time around with one of those. Genevieve hadn’t been either and Asad claimed she’d been the most beloved Lady of the Sha’b Al’najid in generations.
His grandfather certainly didn’t seem disappointed in his wife’s lack of Middle Eastern heritage or pedigree.
Surely Asad had to realize that a woman who loved him and Nawar would be better than any pedigreed pretender.
And Iris did love him, totally and completely. It was inevitable. Staying out of his bed would not have prevented it, because Russell had been right. There had been no danger of Iris falling in love a second time when she’d never stopped in the first place.
No amount of will could prevail against the depth of feeling she had toward Asad.
This time around, she knew she had to fight for what she wanted, that the possibility of having it taken away again lurked around the next bend in the road.
She had to show him that she would make him a better wife than any other woman ever could, just as he would be the ideal husband for her. He might not realize he loved her, but he couldn’t make love to her the way he did and feel nothing.
She’d thought at one time he had done, but now she knew it had cost him to leave her. That he’d never forgotten her. He’d even named his daughter after her. And he’d wanted her back in his bed enough to cajole his cousin into making sure she was the geologist sent for this survey.
Any way Iris looked at it, Asad felt more for her than he realized.
Marrying him might mean Iris giving up her current job, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t start something new. Living among the Sha’b Al’najid and exploring the world they lived in could take a lifetime for even the most devoted geologist.
Six years ago Asad hadn’t considered Iris a candidate to become part of his family, but he’d admitted to having been blind and stupid. He implied he wasn’t either any longer.
If that was true, then she had a few short weeks to show her new and improved, open-eyed sheikh the light.
It had taken Iris twenty-four years to give up on fighting for her parents’ affection. She could be stubborn and determined with the best of them, even if others rarely saw that side of her.
It was time Asad did, at least.
When they reached the overlook, Iris had no trouble understanding why it was popular with lovers. “The view is magnificent,” she said with an awe that was becoming familiar.
Asad might not live in a palace, but his home was one of the most beautiful places on earth.
“It is. I come here to think, to ponder my people’s needs in the face of the modernization of our world.”
She let her gaze travel over the panoramic vista. Off in the distance, she could see a herd and she bet they were animals cared for by the Sha’b Al’najid. “Seeing all this, it helps you keep perspective, doesn’t it?”
“You know me well.” He turned to face her, his eyes smiling even though his lips were still.
It reminded her of how he used to be at university.
“I want to.” She reached up and cupped his face between both of her hands, loving the feel of his closely cropped beard against her fingers. “I want to very much.”
He nuzzled into her touch, turning his head so he could kiss each of her palms. “You do?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t any good at the games women played with men, and she didn’t want to be, either.
If Asad decided he wanted Iris in his future, he would have her as she really was, not something she pretended to be to gain his attention.
He gently pulled her to him, his desert robe enveloping them both. “There is one way you know me better than anyone else.”
“Really? No other lovers have learned all your body’s secrets?”
“No. You do not know them all though, either, not yet.”
“Maybe I could learn some more right now.”
He jerked as if startled by her suggestion, but then he smiled. “I thought we both had work to do?” he asked, sounding bemused.
“My work can wait a little. Can yours?” She reached up and kissed the underside of his chin.
He shuddered. “Yes, my dove, for you … for this, it can.”
“Good.”
“It will be.” He started to undress.
But she stopped him. “Let me.”
Silent, his eyes darkened by lust, he nodded.
She took her time, removing each of his desert layers with intermittent kisses and caresses until he stood naked before her, the timeless Bedouin sheikh.
She took off her own clothes while he stood watching her, his erection so hard it was nearly parallel to his stomach. They had only made love that morning, but clearly something about this was exciting him beyond bearing.
And then she realized it was the first time she’d initiated the lovemaking since they’d renewed their intimacy.
Apparently he missed her feminine aggression.
She let her last garment fall to the ground and stood proudly naked before him. “I want you.”
His entire body shuddered at her words, his nostrils flaring, his eyes narrowing, his gut tightening. Her gaze skimmed lower and she noticed a pearl of preejaculate on the end of his penis. More evidence of sexual desire at its peak. She reached out, swiped it with her finger and then brought the bead of viscous fluid to her mouth.
