Sheikhs of Hamari: The Complete Series by North Leslie

Author:North, Leslie [North, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

10

Chloe stretched, rousing out of a deep sleep, and let the sensations come slowly to the front of her mind. The sheets—they were so soft. Kishon must use linens with a thread count in the millions. The gentle weight of the coverlet. It pressed the sheets onto her skin like a whisper.

She opened her eyes to the sight of a tulle canopy above her, sparkling in the morning light coming through the giant windows in Kishon’s room. Who would have thought that tulle would send an aftershock of delight humming through her body? Her smile felt too big for her face. Chloe put up a hand to cover it, then dropped her hand to her pillow. For this moment, she could let herself enjoy the afterglow of the wedding as if the marriage were as real as the decorations in Kishon’s suite. Chloe had never once thought of carrying the wedding theme all the way to the royal apartments, but then again, she’d never been married to a king before.

He wasn’t here, that king—the sheets were cool and the air empty. But he’d be back soon, she was sure of it.

Chloe curled onto her side, pulling the blankets tight around her and grinning. The wedding night had been on another level. Making love with Kishon while her wedding dress fainted on the floor at the foot of the bed had been enough to sweep her feet out from under her, if she’d been standing. He’d been ravenous for her, and she’d lost herself in her own hunger for him.

And now they were going to fly to Paris. Her heart skipped, light and free and so excited that it almost made her want to leap out of Kishon’s bed, throw on the nearest clothes, and run to the airport. Kishon was probably preparing some surprise on the plane right this very minute. He knew how much it meant for her to finally go to Paris. How many times had she sketched the Eiffel Tower from pictures she’d found on the internet? Too many. It was time to paint it in person.

Oh, it was coming true, this pipe dream that she’d turned over in her mind while she dried the glasses at the bar and smiled for drunk businessmen and walked home late at night to her tiny apartment—it was coming true. She could practically feel the brush between her fingers, the pull of the bristles over the canvas. She laughed out loud. Even the breeze in Paris was going to feel different. She knew it already.

A rumble of a voice, like approaching thunder, boomed outside the bedroom door. Chloe pulled the sheet up high.

“Yes. Of course.” Kishon. His voice got closer. “Yes, I understand. I wouldn’t say I’m thrilled about it, no.” The door at the opposite end of the room opened. Kishon wore a pair of dark slacks, a pristine white button-down, and a frown. Except for the frown, his appearance reminded her of standing across from him at the bar, pretending not to be completely obsessed with every twitch and curl of his perfect lips.

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