Wrapped in Pleasure Read Online Free

cottage on the grounds not far from the palace, as well as personal servants to see to her every need. At no time had he ever craved a woman.
    Until now .
    “Tell me about your homeland, Jamal.”
    Jamal arched a brow, surprised at Delaney’s request. He shifted his gaze from his cup of coffee and back to her. Her honey-brown face glowed in the sunlight, making her appear radiant, golden. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, so her beauty was natural, awe-inspiring. He swallowed hard and tried once again to ignore the urgent need pounding inside him, signals of desire racing through his body.
    “What do you want to know?” he asked with a huskiness he almost didn’t recognize.
    Delaney placed her empty bowl aside and leaned back on both hands as she looked at him. “Anything you want to tell me. It must be an interesting place to live.”
    He chuckled at the curiosity in her voice, then stared down at her for several moments before he began speaking. “Yes, interesting,” he said slowly, “and quite beautiful.” She couldn’t know that he had just referred to his country…as well as to her.
    Fighting for total control, he continued. “Tahran is located not far from Saudi Arabia, close to the Persian Gulf. It’s a relatively small country compared to others close to it like Kuwait and Oman. Our summers are intensely hot and our winters are cool and short. And unlike most places in the Middle East, we get our share of rain. Our natural resources in addition to oil are fish, shrimp and natural gas. For the past few years my people have lived in peace and harmony with our neighbors. Once in a while disagreements flare up, but when that happens a special regional coalition resolves any disputed issues. I am one of the youngest members of that coalition.”
    “Are both your parents still living?”
    Jamal took another sip of his coffee before answering. “My mother died when I was born and for many years my father and I lived alone with just the servants. Then Fatimah entered our lives.”
    “Fatimah?”
    “Yes, my stepmother. She married my father when I was twelve.” Jamal decided not to mention that his parents’ marriage had been prearranged by their families to bring peace to two warring nations. His mother had been an African princess of Berber descent, and his father, an Arab prince. There had been no love between them, just duty, and he had been the only child born from that union. Then one day his father brought Fatimah home and their lives hadn’t been the same.
    His father’s marriage to Fatimah was supposed to have been like his first marriage, one of duty and not love. But it had been evident with everyone from the start that the twenty-two-year-old Egyptian beauty had other plans for her forty-six-year-old husband. And it also became apparent to everyone in the palace that Fatimah was doing more for King Yasir than satisfying his loneliness and his physical needs inthe bedroom. Their king was smiling. He was happy and he didn’t travel outside his sheikhdom as often.
    King Yasir no longer sent for other women to pleasure him, bestowing that task solely upon his wife. Then, within a year of their marriage, they had a child, a daughter they named Arielle. Three years later another daughter was born. They named her Johari.
    Arielle, at nineteen, was now married to Prince Shudoya, a man she had been promised to since birth. Johari, at sixteen, was a handful after having been spoiled and pampered by their father. Jamal smiled, inwardly admitting that he’d had a hand in spoiling and pampering her, as well.
    He simply adored his stepmother. More than once during his teen years, she had gone to his father on his behalf about issues that had been important to him.
    “Do the two of you get along? You and your stepmother?”
    Delaney’s question invaded his thoughts. “Yes, Fatimah and I are very close.”
    Delaney stared at him. For some reason she found it hard to imagine him having a “very close”