The Sultan's Choice by Abby Green

his throat work, and then flushed when she realised that he had put the glass down and was looking at her intently. Her scalp itched where a few strands of hair were pulled too tight. She’d put it up again, but instead of feeling more comfortable, it actually made her feel self-conscious.
    Before she knew what was happening Sadiq had reached across the table and taken her hand in his. She couldn’t pull away, and just watched dumbly as he turned it over in his palm. It looked tiny and very white cradled in his. And then he intertwined his fingers with hers, and Samia felt a pulse throb between her legs. She pressed them tight together and desperately wished for him to release her.
    As if he knew exactly what effect he was having on her Sadiq smiled. ‘I believe this will work, Samia. A marriage between us. You underestimate your appeal, you know.’
    Her eyes met his and she bit her lip. She thought of the cool way he’d looked at her in countless different outfits all day, as if she were a brood mare. He was making her feel all hot and bothered, and sudden anger at his easy charm made her snap, ‘You mean I should be grateful that you don’t findme so repulsive that you won’t need to be blindfolded to take me to bed on our wedding night?’
    He smiled again, and it sent Samia’s blood pounding through her body.
    ‘On the contrary, Princess Samia. I think we’ll be lucky if we make it to our wedding night without sleeping together. After all, we’re both adults, both experienced, and I think we’ve established that neither one of us is bound by such romantic ideals as waiting till the night of our wedding. Introducing a blindfold into the proceedings certainly might add a little … something … But it won’t be for me. I want to see every reaction that crosses your expressive face when we sleep together for the first time.’
    A million things exploded in Samia’s head at once, even as she registered that Sadiq’s thumb was now stroking lazily across her hectic pulse point. But superseding everything was the thought of all that potent masculinity focused solely on her. It was overwhelming.
    Not thinking clearly at all, beyond escaping the sudden threat he posed, Samia pulled her hand free of Sadiq and said priggishly, ‘Well, I quite like the idea of adhering to tradition.’
    Sadiq sat back again, and Samia wondered how someone could appear to be so relaxed and yet threatening at the same time. A dark shadow of stubble made the line of his jaw seem even harder, more defined, and the deepset blue eyes over the slightly hawklike nose should have given him a cruel aspect, but instead it all added up to one of the most beautiful faces she’d ever seen on a man. And that was including her brother, who seemed to turn any woman he encountered into a simpering bimbo.
    His lower lip alone was indecent in its sensual provocation. When he spoke his voice was throaty. ‘I think you’re a tease, Samia. You say one thing and then you look at me as ifyou want to climb over this table and devour me whole. Is this what you do? Present men with an innocent, slightly gauche exterior and then reveal yourself bit by bit until they’re begging for mercy?’
    Her face truly flaming now, Samia looked at Sadiq. He had no idea. She was reacting to him because he was the first man who had broken through the thin veneer of control she’d believed impermeable for so long.
He
was the reason she was unravelling at the seams and revealing anything of her inner self.
    She shook her head. ‘I’m not teasing. Trust me.’
    His face was suddenly all harsh lines and angles. ‘So that little performance out there in front of the mirror was real? Are you going to tell me who was the one who made you so averse to looking at your own reflection?’
    Ice entered Samia’s veins. He was digging too deep, too fast. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She felt as if her skin was being pulled back so all of her insecurities were