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Book online «Bride Behind The Desert Veil (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Marchetti Dynasty, Book 3) Abby Green (primary phonics TXT) 📖». Author Abby Green



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it took to keep his hips still.

Eventually it became too much. As much as he wanted to find oblivion in Liyah’s far too tempting mouth, he wanted to be buried deep inside her more. And that was a revelation he refused to look at now—usually this form of release suited him just fine, feeling like a lesser form of intimacy.

He pulled back and Liyah looked up at him, her eyes unfocused. Her hair was wild and tumbling over her shoulders, almost obscuring her breasts.

Sharif couldn’t even speak. He just pulled her up and lifted her, carrying her over to the bed before laying her down. He felt off-centre and, despite the clawing need to plunge deep and find satisfaction right now, he forced himself to go slow, to prove that he hadn’t lost it completely.

Liyah was still dizzy from the headiness of what she’d just done, from how it had felt and tasted to have him in her mouth. At her mercy. She’d felt the tension in his hips, the way his hands had trembled in her hair. But now he seemed intent on proving that any notion she might have that she had the upper hand was sadly misplaced.

He came between her legs and pushed them apart, moving his big hands up to her thighs, spreading them even wider as he bent down, pressing kisses along the tender inner skin, his breath feathering closer and closer to the centre of her body, where her flesh pulsed.

And then he put his mouth on her flesh. She arched her back and grabbed the sheet with both hands, straining to contain the pleasure building at her core. But it was impossible. One flick of his wicked tongue and she was tumbling over the edge, and her body was still contracting when he reared over her and plunged deep, sending her into another spiral of ecstasy, showing her all too comprehensively who was the expert.

Liyah lay there for a long moment afterwards, her skin cooling and her breathing returning to normal. She was shell-shocked all over again at how this was between them. But surely it would begin to fade? This intense need and desire?

She heard Sharif’s breathing return to normal beside her. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

And then he surprised her by saying abruptly, ‘Actually, Callaghan isn’t entirely wrong. I do have plans for the Marchetti Group. My plan is to destroy it.’

Callaghan. The reporter who had followed them to London. Liyah turned on her side to face him, shocked. ‘What?’

Sharif didn’t look at her. ‘I’m going to reduce the Marchetti Group to nothing. That’s what I’ve been working towards. Building it up until it’s powerful beyond anything my father could ever have imagined and then selling it off, piece by piece, until his legacy no longer exists. All the success he garnered off the backs of the women he seduced and stole from will be forgotten.’

Liyah went very still. ‘But...but all that stuff you told me earlier about appreciating the industry...’

‘This won’t affect the industry at large. It’ll cause a few waves, yes, but the brands will continue to exist. Just not under the Marchetti name.’

‘But what if they don’t survive without your support?’ Liyah thought of the women who worked in the atelier in Paris.

‘That’s part of my reasoning in making sure we’re in a strong position. All the brands and labels will be desirable lucrative concerns.’

Liyah came up on one elbow. ‘What about your brothers? They don’t know about your plans, do they?’

Sharif threw back the covers and got up from the bed in a fluid movement. He walked over to a set of drawers and pulled out a pair of sweat pants, put them on. They hung low on his hips as he walked over to the window, arms folded.

Liyah sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest. Feeling cold all of a sudden.

Eventually he said, ‘No, they don’t know.’

‘Because you don’t trust them?’

He turned around. ‘In a word, no. Even if we do have an accord now, I can’t say for certain that they wouldn’t go against me—and I can’t let that happen. Not when I’m so close. They hated our father as much as I did. Nikos’s mother committed suicide because of him. Domenico made Maks’s and his sister’s life hell when their mother had affairs and ultimately divorced him. I still can’t trust that they feel the same way I do, but they won’t go without recompense. They’ll be billionaires, no matter what.’

‘You could talk to them,’ Liyah suggested. ‘Perhaps not telling them everything but sounding them out? They deserve that, don’t they?’

She could see the lines of Sharif’s body tense.

‘They’d suspect in a second. They’re not stupid.’

Liyah pulled up the sheet, feeling exposed. ‘I think that you’re underestimating them. I think you can trust them. Didn’t they come into the group when you suggested it after your father died? They’ve helped you build it up.’

‘They’ve helped you build it up.’

Sharif was so tightly wound that he felt as if he might crack open. Everything Liyah was saying was hitting him in a place that stung. And he had no idea what had compelled him to tell her any of this. It had started coming out of him before he could stop it.

The truth was that on some level he knew she was right. But he’d been alone for so long, living with his plan to grind his father’s name and legacy to dust, that the prospect of it not happening was unconscionable. Too much of a risk.

As if reading his mind, Liyah said softly, ‘Would you risk putting a rift between you and your brothers for this?’

‘Yes,’ he answered, swiftly and emphatically. Except this time it felt hollow.

He’d always figured a rift between him and his brothers would be the unfortunate outcome, but in the past couple of years he and Nikos and Maks had gravitated more and more towards one another. It was easier

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