The Sultan's Harem Bride by Annie West

begun. Besides, he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms.
    ‘There’s no need.’ Ah, there was the door, just ahead.
    ‘I’m too heavy.’
    ‘Hardly.’ Asim shouldered the door open and let it swing shut behind them.
    ‘But I’m so tall.’
    He frowned at the discordant note in her words and paused mid-stride. Something was going on in that convoluted, surprising mind of hers that he didn’t understand.
    Heavy...
    Tall...
    ‘You’re tall for a woman,’ he said slowly, watching her expression freeze, ‘But that’s good.’ Her brows twitched in surprise. ‘It means we’ll be well-matched in bed.’ His erection throbbed in eager agreement. ‘I’ve been fantasising about those long legs of yours. I want to feel them wrapped around my waist when I’m moving inside you.’
    Her mouth popped open in an O of astonishment as if he’d shocked her to the core. Yet she hadn’t been shocked when he’d described his need for her, only eager.
    ‘As for heavy.’ He shook his head as he crossed the foyer. ‘You’re a lightweight. Even now with a little flesh on your bones you don’t weigh much.’
    ‘You noticed I’d gained weight?’
    Of course he’d noticed. He’d been fixated on her body since that first tantalising revelation.
    ‘This isn’t my room.’ Her head swivelled.
    ‘No, it’s mine.’ There was protection in the bedside table and it was beyond him to last out any longer. Already his hands shook, not from carrying her, but from the effort of not ravishing her on the way.
    Gently he laid her on the bed, his heart pounding with anticipation. Her dress flared like liquid silver, draping and cupping her delicious body. Already part of his brain was analysing the best way to rid her of it, even as he took a moment to relish the seductive picture she made.
    Without turning, he yanked open a drawer and fumbled for condoms, planting a handful on top of the bedside table. Those amazing eyes fixed on the movement and she swallowed.
    Dredging up the last grains of self-restraint, he dropped his arms.
    ‘I want you, Jacqueline.’ So much his chest felt like it was bound by steel bands. ‘Tell me now if you don’t want this.’ He prayed he had the strength to let her go.
    She shook her head and he nearly died. Then she stretched out one slender arm and his pulse revved into life again. ‘I want you too. You have no idea how much.’
    No game playing, no flirting, just honest need. Her directness was more arousing than any erotic foreplay.
    ‘Oh, I think I do.’ Asim snatched her hand and planted a kiss on her palm, then pressed it to his chest where his heart thundered.
    In one swift movement he was on the bed, reaching around her for the dress’s concealed zip. She stiffened.
    What now? His patience was worn paper-thin from holding himself in check. Was this after all some coy game? Yet a look at her face disabused him of that.
    ‘Jacqueline?’
    ‘You first.’ Her eyes didn’t meet his. Instead she fixed her gaze on his high collar as she fumbled to find how it opened. ‘Please.’
    No woman had ever asked him to strip for her. Usually it was him watching his latest lover with anticipation.
    ‘Very well.’ He stood, quickly shucking his shoes, his hands making short work of the fastenings on his jacket. Moments later it dropped to the floor and he hauled his collarless shirt up over his head, flinging it away. His eyes met hers and the current of sexual energy between them almost blew the back off his skull. Her gaze raked his torso as if he’d spread a banquet before her and she didn’t know where to start.
    He knew where he wanted her to start. He was hard as the stone quarried to build this palace. His hand dipped to his waistband, his temperature skyrocketing as her gaze followed the movement. Then he thought better of it. Once he was naked this would be over in minutes.
    Instead he untucked the end of his silk turban. His hand moved deftly in the familiar task but the intensity of