Page 24 of Sheikh's Quarantine Triplet Baby Daughters

Samyar grinned, and it was almost as if she could see some of the worry from the past few days drop away from him. He was so handsome he made her heart beat fast, but that wasn't the only thing, she realized as he took her arm.

They were together again, and she knew that she was right where she belonged. She wasn't sure that she had ever belonged anywhere before, not really.

She thought that he might lead her into gardens or perhaps even to the museum wing. Instead, he took her down a hallway in the residential wing that she had never been in before. The lights in this portion were even dimmer, and there was an oddly museum-like air to it.

"The parts of the palace where we spend the majority of our time are very modern," Samyar explained to her. "The original palace was built almost five hundred years ago, and over time, my ancestors have added to it, pulled it down and built it up again. There were some times when I'm sure that it was surpassingly ugly, given the fact that some of my ancestors were not known at all for their good taste. This is the oldest part of the palace, where my ancestors once lived."

"I've heard of this area," Diane said, glancing around at the walls hung with ancient art and stone that replaced the plaster. "This part is meant to be off-limits."

"Not to me," Samyar said simply. "It's my home. When our children are born, it will be their home as well. And yours. It is yours as well."

She wanted to tell Samyar that it was too much, that he couldn't say such things before they had figured out more about what they were doing and who they were, but he paused and opened a door, flicking on a hidden light switch as they entered.

The room was enormous, and the soft lights that had been cleverly hidden to avoid detracting from the antique charms of the room made it look as if it were bathed in candlelight. The room was round, and high above, there was a gorgeous clear skylight, where Diane could see the full moon peeking from one edge. The floor underneath their feet was mosaiced with tiny shards of what looked like marble, and the room was ringed with seating, littered with what must have been dozens of pillows.

"You have been studying Alraed history," Samyar said, his voice hushed. "Do you know what this place is?"

"It's an entertaining room," she said, her eyes wide. "It's a place where people gathered to celebrate, to eat, to watch performances in the round. But I've never seen one so large or so luxurious before..."

Samyar laughed.

"My ancestors didn't like to do things by halves. It is one of the largest of its kind, and it was created by one of my first ancestors, the king who built the original palace. There are stories told of the brilliant entertainers he brought here: dancers, fire-eaters, storytellers of all kinds."

"It's beautiful," she said, stepping from his side to stand in the center of the floor. As high as the room was, she could hear the soft shushing echoes of her own footsteps. She stood bathed in the light from above, but she realized that now it was difficult for her to see to the edges of the room. She could just make out Samyar by the seating, bathed in shadow.

"Can you imagine what it would be like," Samyar said, his voice deep and velvety, "to be at the center of attention in a place like this?"

Diane swallowed, a flutter of excitement waking in her chest. Suddenly she couldn't imagine being sleepy.

"I can try," she said. "From where I'm standing, I can't tell if there are a dozen people watching me or just one."

"Which do you think it is?" asked Samyar invitingly. "Or which do you hope it is?"

Diane stifled a shocked sound, because now she could imagine it too well. If the watchers were quiet enough, she would never know they were there, and they would surround her as she stood silent in the center of the room.

"I would—" There was a catch in her throat, and she tried again. "I would hope that there was just one," she said, and Samyar circled her in the darkness.

"What a good hope," he said with a smile in his voice. "Why don't you take off your clothes, darling?"

She whimpered at the thought and the command she could hear in his tone, and before she knew she was going to, her hands flew to her dress, pulling it over her head. She let it drop to the floor, and then she looked down at herself and laughed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't come dressed for a strip show," she joked.

She wore a dull beige bra, and her black leggings and a pair of ballet flats. They were fine for lounging around the house, but certainly not what she would have chosen if she had known she was going to be entertaining royalty.

"I think you're dressed perfectly," Samyar said smoothly. "After all, who cares about clothes when they're off?"

An aroused whimper escaped Diane's lips, and she stripped the rest of the way, letting her clothes drop to the side until she was naked and barefoot in the center of the room. She was on display, and her imagination had always been very good. Were there a dozen men in the dark watching her or just one? She hoped it was just one.

"Very beautiful," Samyar purred, and she jumped because his voice came from behind her. While she was stripping, he'd moved, and when she turned to face him, he spoke again.

"No. No, stand still. I want to see you."

There was something incredibly sensual about it in a way that she had never considered before. He was watching her at his leisure, and he could keep her like that as long as he wanted.

There was a part of her that wanted to protest. Diane had always been fiercely independent, someone who knew what she wanted and what she needed. She would never let him take that kind of arrogant and domineering tone in their real life, but this was another life entirely, an entire world that was designed only for their fun.

In this world, it seemed, she still knew what she wanted and needed – it was only that she wanted and needed to please him.

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