That evening, she smoothed the burgundy silk dress down over her figure, trying to decide if it was okay for the occasion or if she should change clothes. She was just about to run back to her suite so she could change into something different when a whistle from her doorway caught her attention. Tarek stood there, his eyes moving up and down her figure with avid appreciation. “I think I’m going to have to hide you away tonight,” he said and moved into the receiving room where they were going to meet the three other men and their wives for pre-dinner drinks.
He picked up her hands, placing both of them on his broad shoulders. He was just bending down, obviously intent on kissing her when a voice boomed from the doorway. “Get your hands off of that woman, old man. You’re not married.”
Kylie was so horrified by that statement, as well as getting caught about to kiss Tarek, that she snapped her hands away from his hands and stepped backwards. But Tarek only laughed and moved closer to her, sighing against her ear. “I might just have to kill him after all,” he said with mock humor.
“Behave,” a female voice said and Kylie turned just in time to see a stunning woman smack an incredibly tall man on the shoulder.
Kylie wasn’t sure what was going on, but she was fairly certain that she wouldn’t have the courage to hit that tall man. Tarek was about the same size, but he wasn’t nearly as ferocious looking as the man standing beside the dark haired beauty.
“You have rotten timing, Garon,” Tarek grumbled, pulling Kylie against his side and ignoring her resistance at public displays. He was going to touch her and he didn’t care if these men noticed.
The man laughed, winking at Kylie. “You can thank me later for keeping you from being mauled by this big brute,” he told her.
The brunette rolled her eyes. “Ignore him,” she said. “I’m Layla and he’s a horrible man that just needs a good beating.” She stepped closer and shook Kylie’s hand. “I’m Layla and welcome to the group, Kylie. The wives of these four men stick together. Otherwise, they get a bit too annoying. We’ll give you tips on dealing with their obnoxious arrogance.”
The man wrapped his arms around his wife, nuzzling her ear and causing the beauty to blush. “And who, my love, is going to provide the beating?” he asked.
“I’ll volunteer,” another voice called out.
The four of them turned and once again, another huge man entered the room, this time with a lovely, gentle looking blond woman on his arm.
“If you show your ugly face, you need to bring Luca,” Garon exclaimed. “I haven’t seen that adorable boy in months.” And he wrapped his arms around his wife’s pregnant belly very gently.
Kylie couldn’t believe how jealous she felt with that gesture. She thought about her lonely nights lately and unconsciously squeezed Tarek’s arm. He patted her hand but also pulled her closer, as if he were responding to her feelings.
The blond stepped into the room and hugged Layla. “You’re glowing,” she said.
Layla hugged her as well, then stepped back to look at the blond. “You’re…”
The blond woman smiled brightly, her expression lighting up the room. “Yes,” she said, almost jumping up and down with the news.
“Another baby?” she whispered.
The man beside her was smiling, love shining in his eyes and pride in the woman even while his arms gently surrounded her.
“Congratulations,” Layla said, hugging the blond again.
“Thanks,” she said, then turned to Kylie. “I’m so sorry,” she said. Extending her hand, she smiled graciously. “I’m Callie and this is my husband, Zahir. He’s a very nice man so just ignore the growling sounds he makes. The four of them pretend to hate each other but they really are best friends.”
There was a growling sound as well as a few bursts of sounds that Kylie didn’t want to identify. She looked up at Tarek and laughed because she’d already guessed as much. He’d indicated his respect for these men over breakfast and she was already honored to be in the presence of the two women who appeared to be madly in love with their husbands.
“I hate them all,” another voice said.
Kylie looked around the two large men, leaning as far as Tarek would allow. When she spotted yet another dark haired behemoth, she almost laughed out loud. No wonder these four men were such good friends. They were so similar and she could even see the similar arrogance in the way they stood and their swagger when they walked. All were proud and tall, muscular and handsome but in different ways. Zahir was possibly the most handsome and, if he ever wanted to give up his throne, he could make millions as a male model. Garon was rough and tumble, but the love shining through those dark eyes for his wife softened the edges. The fourth man, Sheik Dassar bin Sarook, looked as if he was carved out of stone with jutting jawline and cheekbones. While Tarek was just raw power in every fiber of his being. Or maybe that was her own perception because of the nights spent in his arms.
“You’re late,” Zahir said when Dassar joined them with a lovely woman on his arm, her platinum hair piled high on her head. And yes, she was pregnant as well.
Dassar’s slashing eyes came to rest on Kylie and she held her breath, feeling as if she was being judged suddenly. But then the man smiled and she relaxed. She’d just passed some sort of test, she realized.
“You must be the lovely Kylie,” he said and took her hand, bowing courteously over her fingers. “I respect the fact that you are ignoring your better judgment and marrying this buffoon. You will definitely make him a better man.”
Tarek made a sound and Kylie looked up at him. There was mock anger in his eyes and she glanced back at the other man, laughing suddenly. “He’s joking, Tarek,” she told him, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Tarek looked down at his beautiful fiancée and shook his head. “He’s a pain in the ass.”
Dassar laughed softly. “You’d better marry her soon or some other man is going to sneak in and steal her away.” The white-blond beauty smacked his arm. “I apologize,” he said and took the woman’s hand. “This is my wife, Luna. And she has no secrets to managing her husband. She loves me exactly the way I am.”
Luna rolled her eyes and extended her hand to Kylie. “We’ll talk,” she whispered. Layla and Callie both nodded their heads, both in on the conspiracy. “We stick together. Otherwise…” Luna shrugged her shoulders and shuddered at what must be a horrible fate.
“She doesn’t need any of your tips or tricks, ladies. She’s just fine on her own in her dealings with me,” Tarek grumbled and pulled Kylie back against his side.
The other men laughed outright now. “I daresay that the lovely Kylie might have some advice to give to our ladies. We’ll have to keep them separated.”
Kylie glanced nervously up at Tarek, then back at the man, not sure what was going through Tarek’s mind.
But the mood was broken when Zahir punched Tarek on the arm. “You’re the last man out. Can’t convince her to marry you, old man?” he asked.
Kylie’s mouth dropped open at the force of that punch but Tarek just laughed. “I had to search a bit harder for my bride.”
“Marry her quickly. We’re all way ahead of you.”
Dassar’s eyes dropped to Callie’s and Layla’s stomach. “I see you have both been busy.”
Six pairs of eyes then turned to look at Kylie and she blushed. Raising her hand, she shook her head. “We’re not even married.”
“Yet,” Tarek added and his arms squeezed her gently.
“You’re a horrible host,” Zahir said, changing the subject. “But what can one expect of a Neanderthal?”
Tarek chuckled. “I hid all the liquor,” he countered. “I remember the last time when we drank together, none of us could walk the next day. And there’s no way I’m letting you the three of you stay here tonight.”
“He doesn’t handle his liquor very well,” Dassar commented, winking at Kylie.
Tarek rolled his eyes. “I don’t have enough food!” But even as he said that, a waiter arrived with a tray filled with drinks, obviously knowing the favorites for each man. For the ladies, he offered a fancy drink that looked like some sort of citrus flavored concoction.
“Come with us,” Callie said as she, Luna and Layla accepted their drinks. “They’re going to stand there insulting each other until dinner is ready and it gets to be a bit tedious,” she said. The four women walked over to the overstuffed sofas, unaware that the four men were standing still, admiring their women.
“You men are pathetic,” Dassar grumbled. “How about a game of pool? Winner hosts next month’s dinner.”
The other three men turned to the other man. “What the hell are you talking about? Loser hosts. And most likely, you’re hosting,” Zahir replied, smacking Dassar on the back as they walked to the pool table.
“Okay, so how are you holding up?” Callie asked Kylie as soon as the four of them were alone
Kylie looked at the three women, her stomach tightening as she read the pity in their eyes. “I’m fine,” she tried to reassure them.
Layla, Luna and Callie exchanged a glance with each other, then looked back at Kylie. “You’re marrying a sheik. An arrogant, annoying man used to getting his way.”
“And one big enough to enforce his will despite your objections,” Callie added.
Luna shook her head. “And one who always thinks he knows what’s best without even discussing the issue with you.”
Layla and Callie nodded and Kylie grimaced. “You three as well?”
They all nodded their heads.
“Does it get any better?” Kylie asked, feeling an instant kinship with these three beautiful women.
Callie, Luna and Layla all shook their heads. “No way,” they all said almost simultaneously, then burst out laughing, Kylie laughed right along with them. None of them were aware of the four men turning to look in their direction for a long moment, then turning back to their game of pool.
“But there are moments when our men can be simply divine, so sweet and gentle, wonderfully romantic and incredibly touching,” Callie sighed. “And of course, there are some compensations.”
Luna covered Kylie’s hands gently. “The moments we mentioned are sometimes few and far between.”
Layla sighed. “Yes, but the compensations are pretty often,” she replied. Luna and Callie both nodded their heads with emphasis even while they blushed.
“So has he ignored your objections about getting married?” Layla asked.
Kylie bit her lip. “Um…”
Callie nodded her head. “That’s a yes. Has he driven you screaming mad with frustration?” she went on.
Kylie wasn’t sure what to say. She glanced over at Tarek who must have sensed her look because he was about to hit the ball but he paused and looked up, winking in her direction.
Layla laughed again. “That’s another yes.”
Kylie chuckled as well. “Okay, so the three of you have endured their kind of courtship, I’m assuming?” she asked, only pausing to receive their nods of agreement. “So how do you deal with it? How do you not pull your hair out with frustration?”
Layla, Luna and Callie then spent the next forty minutes giving Kylie examples of how their husbands drove them crazy as well. By the time the men walked back over to tower over their women, the ladies were fast friends, laughing and enjoying the stories of how their men were arrogant to the marrow.
“What are you talking about?” Zahir asked, pulling his wife up and into his arms, kissing the top of her head.
“How you drive us crazy,” she told him honestly.
Zahir nodded. “I’m pretty good at it,” he claimed.
Callie blushed and she smacked his shoulder. “Not that kind of crazy,” she whispered.
Her husband only laughed softly and kissed her neck. “But you love me,” he said. And his wife had no argument.
Layla was also pulled up into her husband’s arms, her neck nuzzled and he whispered something in her ear that made her cheeks turn a becoming shade of red as well. Luna didn’t need to be pulled into Dassar’s embrace. She jumped up as soon as he approached and curved into his arms. Kylie was a bit slower, but Tarek was having none of that. He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t listen to anything they tell you,” he teased.
Dinner that evening was fascinating. The laughter among the participants rang out and Kylie was amazed at the teasing nature of the conversation. However, by the time coffee was served, the men turned serious. Kylie waited for the women to stand up and let the men discuss the issues, but Layla, Luna and Callie actually leaned forward, more than ready to add their opinions to the conversation. And instantly, Kylie understood why. Apparently, more fighting was breaking out along the borders.
“You saw the men?” Dassar was asking of Zahir.
“Yes, and the guns were soviet era but well preserved.”
Dassar’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly the kind of weapons my father started the war with,” he added grimly.
Kylie waited for Dassar to tell the others that his fighters hadn’t been involved but the words were not spoken. And as they started to brainstorm about the culprit, Kylie started to understand why. All four men and the three women instantly accepted that the people fighting were not doing so at their ruler’s commands. No one needed to say the words, it was simply assumed that someone else was behind the fighting.
She should have known better, she thought. These men were friends. She’d sat through enough diplomatic lunches and dinners to recognize a friendly conversation where diplomats masked threats with smiles and offered polite acceptance of words, then went and did the complete opposite. That was not what was happening among these men. They were genuinely friends, respecting each other enough not to ask insulting questions like who was breaking the fledgling peace treaty.
At the end of the evening, they’d all shared the results of their investigations into other, similar, incidents and came up with a plan that they would individually put into place. Apparently, everyone already knew about the attempted assassination of Garon but Kylie was touched when, as the subject was discussed, Garon took his wife’s hand, pulling it under the table as if she needed reassurance that he was still okay. And Kylie was once again amazed at how creative and brilliant Tarek was. She loved listening to him brainstorm about the probable culprits who were trying to dissolve the peace and she wanted to be a part of this friendship. Very badly.
As the servants led the others away at the end of the evening, she looked up at Tarek only to find that he was staring down at her already.
“What?” she asked, lifting her hand to her face. “Did I do something embarrassing or wrong?”
Tarek laughed. “Just the opposite. You were lovely and kind and I enjoyed your company tonight.” And with those words, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Within moments, she was clinging to him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight, Kylie,” he warned as his mouth moved down her neck, stopping to tickle all of those sensitive spots he knew of along the way.
“Okay,” she sighed, happy now that she was back in his arms.
He stopped for a moment and lifted his head, looking down at her. “I’m warning you. I’ve stayed away from you for several nights and you’re going to pay for that.”
She laughed. “Are you going to punish me?” she offered, her eyes turning sultry.
Tarek immediately caught her look and growled again. A moment later, he lifted her up into his arms and walked quickly down the hallway towards his room. “Oh yes. You’re definitely going to be punished,” he promised.
Her arms were already wrapped around his neck as he eliminated the distance to his goal. “What exactly were my crimes?”
He slammed the door behind him, then lowered her legs to the floor. “You scared me,” he told her. “I didn’t like that so you’re going to pay for that incident by the river.” She started to argue that point but he kissed her instead. When she was once again clinging to him he said, “You hurt yourself. And I didn’t like that either.” Once more, she opened her mouth to defend herself, but he kissed her yet again. “So you’re going to be punished for all of that,” he finished off. After that, there was no point when she could have tried to defend her actions. Tarek was ravenous for her and she discovered that her body, well, and her mind, didn’t like not being in his arms for a few days either. She couldn’t keep her hands off of him. Throughout the whole night, she felt as if she needed to make up for the lost time.