Liyah knew that she should have found Asad again during the party, but her emotions were making it difficult to fake the loving relationship. Instead, she stuck close to Amira and Khalid, the one brother who wasn’t vying for her attention.

It was nice watching the two youngest siblings squabble lovingly with each other, but she couldn’t forget the heated anger in Asad’s eyes when he saw her with Rashid. She hadn’t realized how much tension was between the two men, and faking it was difficult, especially with her growing desire for Asad.

Asad later asked where she went, and she admitted that the party was a bit over-the-top for her. He seemed to see right through the half-truth, but he didn’t ask her to elaborate.

He also didn’t disappear again.

Although he spent the next few days working on his project, he always came home in time for dinner. She was expected to dine with him, even though she didn’t know why. They always ate in relative silence. He might answer a few questions now and then, but mostly he brushed her off. If it hadn’t been for the lingering looks or the casual touches, she would have thought she was invisible to him.

The cold Asad was back, and he seemed to be here to stay.

One day, as she lounged on the couch with a book, he stopped beside her and narrowed his eyes. “Why do you wear such baggy clothes?” he demanded.

To hide from you. “What does it matter what I wear?” she asked without looking up. “No one is here but you.”

“You don’t wish to please me?”

Please him? A jolt of indignation ran through her, and she lay the book across her abdomen. “I don’t believe there was a dress code involved when I agreed to this. In public, I’ll wear whatever you want, but here, in this suite, I’ll dress as I like. Besides, it’s not like you’re ever really here to see me, anyway.”

“Do you miss me, Liyah?” His voice was now silky smooth, and just like that, the atmosphere changed between them.

She despised his hot-and-cold nature, but he was hot, and it was enough to set her body on fire.

“I think, perhaps, you and I need to come to some sort of understanding,” he murmured seductively. “I grow weary of silent dinners with you. Tell me, do you wish it was Rashid at the table, instead of me?”

“Rashid? What are you talking about? The only reason our dinners are silent is because you won’t talk to me!” She sat up just as he seated himself on the cushion next to her, and his face was inches from hers. She couldn’t back down without looking weak, but she also couldn’t help the dull flush that started on her chest and slowly crept up her neck.

“Isn’t that where you were for the rest of his party? I could not find either of you.” His accusation was as cold as his eyes, and she stiffened.

“I agreed to come and pretend to be your betrothed, but I will not be a pawn between the two of you,” she hissed. “No, I was not with Rashid. I did not see him until I finally retired. I spent the rest of the evening with Amira and Khalid because—unlike you and your brother—they actually seem to enjoy my company because of who I am, not whose I might be.”

She tried to move her legs around him and stand, but he rested his arm on her, trapping her on the couch. “Do you think that I do not enjoy your company?” he whispered as he bent his head toward her face. “You have no idea the thoughts, the fantasies, running through my head. I stay away from you because it is safer that way.”

Asad wasn’t staying away now, and she felt a strange sense of defiance and courage as she stared at him. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

She turned her head and closed her eyes as he skimmed his lips lightly along her neck. It wasn’t a kiss so much as it was a promise of just what he could do to her body. The briefest contact, and she was already wet and aching for him.

“You’ll join me for dinner tonight, and we’ll set a few things straight.”

She was just about to ask what that meant, but he was gone, striding out of the apartment, and he didn’t look back.

She didn’t dress for dinner. In an act of rebellion, she wore her oldest pair of jeans and the baggiest t-shirt she could find. She knew it drove him to distraction, especially considering that he’d ordered her not to bring her clothes, but in the privacy of his suite, she wasn’t engaged to a sheikh.

She was still just plain old Liyah, book lover and introvert.

Though the food was hot, the atmosphere at dinner was just as cold as before, and she felt a weak thrill of triumph. Her ploy had apparently dampened his desire for her.

She also felt a little disappointed. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that she was looking forward to some fireworks.

After dinner had been served, he dismissed the servants.

She rose to return to her room.

“Stay.” A single word, but it was filled with all the heat that had been missing from dinner.

Confused, she looked over her shoulder and saw fire in his eyes. Now that they were alone, it would seem that Asad had come out to play.

She was still pissed that he would think she’d entice his brother, and she wasn’t ready to surrender. Folding her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “What? Was the dinner not hot enough for you?”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he stood and crooked his finger. He obviously expected her to follow him, and she wanted desperately to deny him, but her body was responding almost too eagerly as she followed him to the parlor. It was a gorgeous room with a large, golden-framed window that showed a gorgeous view of the city—but she’d never felt comfortable here. The obvious display of luxury always served to remind her that none of this was real, and she didn’t belong.

Nestled on the table were three glittery boxes ornately dressed with satin bows. He sat on the couch, leaned back and spread his legs, and watched her.

“Open them,” he said, a glint in his eyes.

She wanted to deny the demand, but her curiosity got the best of her. She tried to ignore the amused smile on his face as he sat back and watched her.

Opening the lavish boxes, she found three of the most gorgeous dresses she’d ever seen. Bold colors that she’d never felt confident enough to wear, shimmery fabrics that should glide over her skin, and a scandalous cut that dipped daringly low and teased mercilessly high.

They must have cost him a fortune.

“Try them on.”

There was something almost feral in his gaze, and she swallowed hard. She couldn’t possibly undress in front of him—and yet, the temptation was too great for her to ignore. Slowly, she grasped the hem of her t-shirt and lifted it high above her head. An embarrassed flush was already creeping up her body, and rather than shucking her pants, she reached for the dress first.

He chuckled but didn’t stop her.

The green dress slithered across her skin. Safely covered, she reached back and unsnapped her bra. Her nipples were already erect, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. They puckered as the material rubbed across them.

Asad was incredibly still as she turned her back and reached under her dress to unsnap her jeans. Bending, she pulled them down her legs.

Moisture pooled between her legs, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She was scared to turn around, to see what she already knew would be written all over his face.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

Was she really going to go through with this? Was she going to risk discovering that the real man was not nearly as good as the man who touched her every night in her dreams?

“Turn around.”

His command broke through her fear, and she slowly turned. His eyes appraised her, slowly lingering as they moved up her legs and across her curves until his gaze met hers. “Another.”

He expected her to slip the dress off and stand nearly naked before him, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

Instead, she turned her back again and quickly changed dresses. She expected to hear his amusement, but he was deathly silent as she turned again, this time in the blue dress. His eyes were darker, and his knuckles were whitening as they gripped the arm of the chair. There wasn’t a trace of calm in him.

The air grew thick around them, and she wondered how she had any breath left at all.

There was no demand this time. He simply pointed to the final box.

Once again, she turned and slipped out of the dress, but when she tried on the new one, she realized that it wasn’t a dress at all. The hem was far too high, stopping just below her panties, and the fabric in the front was nothing but see-through lace.

“Turn around,” he said hoarsely. “Model it for me.”

She stood at a crossroads. If she had any sense, she’d grab her own clothes and flee. If she turned around, they wouldn’t be flirting anymore. They’d go tumbling headfirst into chaos.

Messy, messy, chaos.

Slowly blowing out her breath, she reached under and tucked her thumbs under the waistline of her panties. Bending over, she inched the last of her defenses down her legs. The air touched her bare cheeks, and she heard him inhale sharply.

She didn’t hear him move. As soon as she turned around, she saw he was out of the chair and inches from her. With a small gasp, she stumbled back toward the glass window, but it wasn’t from fright. Even as he reached for her, she parted her legs for him.

His lips skimmed over hers as he lifted the hem and deftly slipped a single finger inside her. “Why do you hide your beauty when you are this perfect?" he asked her with a groan. There was no hiding her arousal now that his fingers were stroking her. "Are you all mine?"

"For a time," she replied breathily. She wanted to be cool and seductive, but all she could think about was screaming for more.

He drew closer, and his breath caressed her ear, "Haven't you read the fine print? I reserved the option to buy."

Her back was pressed against the cold glass, but her skin was on fire. There was no possibility of logical thought as his mouth plundered hers. No one had ever kissed her like that. Dominated. Controlled. Her body was nothing more than a puppet for him to play with—and she desperately wanted him to play.

The fabric of the dress rose higher against her thighs as she lifted one leg to curve around his.

He tore himself away from her mouth and pressed his lips to her throat. “Say my name,” he demanded as he pressed a finger to her engorged clit.

Her whole body shuddered as pleasure shot through her, and she cried out his name.

“Tell me you want this,” he said roughly. Removing his hand, he cupped her cheeks and lifted her until her pussy rubbed against the straining cock in his pants. He lifted her higher until he could slide his tongue over the lace covering her nipples.

“Asad, please,” she hissed as she jerked against him. “I want this, I want you. Fuck me.”

Just like that, the foreplay was over. In her haze of need and desire, she barely felt him move as he freed his cock. One second, his tongue was dragging over her nipple, and the next, he was driving into her.

It had been so long. Pain mixed with pleasure, and he froze, buried to the hilt and panting hard. She could see the strain of control in his face, but she didn’t want control. “No,” she growled. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Bucking against him, she forced him to move, and then control was gone. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. She had no idea how long he fucked her, driving her upward until she barely had the breath to scream—but she shattered, and the only sound she could hear was his name, ripped from her lips.

One. Two. Three strokes. He cried out furiously as he jerked within her, and it seemed to take forever before she finally fell back to earth.