He hadn’t touched her until tonight, but in his fantasies, in his dreams, he touched her nightly. He touched her, and he watched as his third touched her. He psessed her, and he watched as his third possessed her.
He heard her screams of pleasure, watched her emerald eyes darken in ecstasy, and heard her beg him for release. And he woke with his dick so painfully hard, the need to possess her so strong, that no amount of mast***ation could ease the hunger.
“Abram, are you sure about this?” Tariq asked as he turned the limo from Khalid’s drive and headed for the private airport. “It’s not too late to change your mind. Go back, convince Khalid to allow us to protect Paige ourselves. If Azir and Jafar refuse to give us peace, then we’ll kill them ourselves.”
As a plan, it was simple, perfect, and it would complete the dark stain spreading across his soul.
“And we’ll always know we were the ones that killed him,” Abram reminded him. “His murder would unleash secrets both of us would prefer were never known, Tariq. We return, learn of their plans against the throne and Paige, take them to the emissary before he arrives in Mustafa lands, and allow the government to take care of him from there.
“The lands will be repossessed by the government. Azir will either be beheaded for treason or placed in a facility for the insane until his death. Either way, our secrets remain secret, and we’ll have a much better chance of safety when we return.”
“That or certain death,” Tariq stated tightly. “Mustafa lands are drenched in as much blood as their hands. They’re saturated in it. The name is synonymous with nothing but death, greed, and such cruelty against our women that neither of us have known anything but shame since the day our mothers committed suicide. I don’t know how we’ve refrained from killing that old bastard before now.”
“Because we’ve always known that we would have only one chance at happiness, Tariq. I won’t allow him to win by taking that from me.” Abram stared out the limo’s darkened windows to the sliver of light beginning to filter through as dawn edged in.
This was how he felt. Hope was there, edging into the shadows when he’d learned he would have to return to ensure Paige’s safety. She was his. Since the death of his first wife so long ago, Abram had known very little hope. He couldn’t turn away from it, he couldn’t allow Azir to risk it.
“There are very few of our men left,” Tariq reminded him. “Only those who hadn’t yet been able to slip over the borders. I managed to contact four, and they’ll see if they can find the others.”
“We’ll have to make do.” Abram glanced at the mirror and met Tariq’s gaze again. “We have no other choice, Tariq. We will have to make do, and we will have to succeed.”
Because defeat meant not just his death, but Khalid’s, Marty’s, and Paige’swould kill Azir himself before he would allow that to happen.
2
THREE DAYS LATER
“Paige, you’re more than welcome to come to the party with us tonight,” Marty said as she stood in the open doorway of Paige’s suite, resplendent in her amber evening gown and topaz jewelry.
Shoulder-length blond hair was swept up to the top of her head with artfully arranged wisps falling from the topaz combs. It lent a charming disarray to the effect.
Paige set her book aside before uncurling from the chair and faced her brother’s fiancée. She was still amazed that her dark, cynical brother had managed to capture Marty’s heart. She had hoped the woman would help him chill out just a little bit. So far, though, it wasn’t happening that she could see.
“I’m really not in the mood for a party, even one of Tally’s.” She grinned.
Tally Conover was becoming known as a premier hostess and seemed to enjoy it. The fact that Tally found the patience for it managed to surprise all her friends.
“Tally throws a damned good party,” Marty reminded her. “She also somehow managed to secure a promise from Anger Thornton to be there. I want to see if he actually arrives.”
Anger Thornton, CEO of Thornton Holdings and Acquisitions rarely attended anyone’s parties but his own. And even those, he was known to be absent from.
“That’s almost tempting,” Paige agreed. “I think I’ll finish my book instead.”
Attending the party meant being civil to Khalid. She just didn’t think she had it in her at the moment. They had existed in a state of warfare for the past three days, and Paige didn’t see that changing anytime soon.
“Finish the book or continue to ignore Khalid?” Marty finally asked.
Paige stared back at her. Her lips pursed and her teeth clenched for one angry second.
“It’s better that Khalid and I have the least amount to do with each other as possible, Marty,” she finally stated.
The other woman shook her head, the wisps of silken hair brushing about her face as she chuckled lightly.
“You two are just too much alike,” she accused. “And as I understand it, Abram Mustafa is just as bad. Khalid, Abram, and their cousins, Tariq and Jafar are all cut from the same cloth, trust me.”
Paige rolled her eyes. She knew all four men. They were so much alike they all could have been brothers rather than cousins. Hell, they could probably be clones—at times they were so equally arrogant and conceited.
“They’re all four equal pains in the ass,” Paige stated.