Page 117 of Bred By the Sheikh

“What?”

“The royal decree about lunch.”

“Come eat.”

“You’re very lucky I just agreed to marry you.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

***

That evening, the rooftop terrace belonged to us.

There were no presentation boards, gala staff, or table set for a formal dinner.

The terrace fans moved the hot night air around us. Low lights lined the planters, and the city spread below. The same pink bougainvillea Chrissy had stopped to admire on her first night in my home moved lightly in the air.

She noticed them immediately.

Of course she did.

“They’re still here.”

I stood behind her.

“They haven’t had reason to leave.”

She glanced back at me.

“Very funny.”

Chrissy wore the sapphire silk dress from our first dinner. She’d chosen it again herself.

When she turned, the ring caught the terrace light.

I wanted to see it on her while I fucked her.

The thought hardened my cock immediately.

Her gaze dropped.

Then she looked up again.

“You’re looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to become extremely pleased with the engagement.”

“I already am.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I understood.”

She walked toward me.

“You behaved yourself all afternoon.”