Page 25 of The Billionaire's Timed Wife

But then I remember that when those weeks are over, I might lose my freedom forever, and the arousal disappears like magic.

Freedom for what?a voice mocks.To add more Ingrids to your list?

It’s been a while since I’ve felt any excitement about chasing new conquests. The names and faces change, but the relationships are always the same.

The thrill of a new encounter, one built purely on desire, has lost its appeal, because after the first night, I already know every step that follows leads straight to the end.

I hear movement behind me and see Jazmina entering the room, Adeela right behind her.

I notice they got off the plane wearing hijabs and not chadors, as Naim had decreed. Personally, I don’t care. They should have the right to choose whether to cover their hair or not, like it was before my brother became sheikh.

As always, my sister wears her hair loose down her back, but her friend hasn’t dared to remove her scarf. Both wear light spring dresses, modest by European standards.

“I forgot my purse,” my sister says, but I barely register her leaving, completely hypnotized by the girl who fascinates me.

“Good evening, Your—”

“Kaled,” I correct.

“Good evening, Kaled.”

One step closer. Then another.

I slip my hands into my pockets, because the urge to touch her is overwhelming.

I’ve never felt so torn between two worlds as I do now, standing in front of the woman I want but can’t have.

“Did you get everything you needed at the store?”

Yes, that was cruel. I knew she would blush at the question, and I asked it anyway.

Adeela seems so modest and innocent, seemingly unaware of how deeply her presence affects me, and I wanted to shake her composure just a little.

“You shouldn’t talk about lingerie with me,” she protests, and I almost smile at the glimpse of claws behind the shyness.

“I didn’t say anything about lingerie. You’re the one who brought it up.”

“But you asked about the store and...” The color in her cheeks deepens.

“Yes, about the store. Not lingerie.” I hide a smile.

Then guilt hits me. It’s not fair to tease her with games she doesn’t know how to play. Adeela is far too innocent for my world.

“You look beautiful,” I say, trying to undo the damage.

“Thank you. The dress is actually your sister’s. I didn’t know where we were going and didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You don’t have your own clothes?”

She shakes her head, looking intimidated, and I mentally curse myself. I didn’t mean to embarrass her, but I can’t explain why it bothers me so much to see her wearing someone else’s clothes, even if that someone is my sister.

“You’ll be here for three weeks. I’ll tell Jazmina to pick the stores you want to visit, and I’ll have them closed for your private shopping. Buy whatever you like.”

She shakes her head. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to accept your gifts. You’re not a relative.”

She’s right. Completely right. It wouldn’t.

But considering all the other inappropriate thoughts I’ve already had about her, what difference does one more make?