Chapter 4
Big mistake! He’d made an enormous error in judgment by allowing her to stay at the palace. These past weeks, she’d changed from a scared little mouse into a vibrant woman. And that meant trouble on so many levels. All of his concerns about her being part of a plan to kill him had been laid to rest. She’d had plenty of opportunities to assassinate him. Maybe she was just a woman. A woman who had accidentally witnessed something, or overheard a morsel of information that prompted this ‘master’ to issue her death warrant.
Malik studied her from his office window as she walked out onto the terrace. He’d been struggling since midnight to banish her from his mind. Had it really been only two weeks since he found her in the desert? Two weeks of lying awake at night fantasizing about her hair, those lips, and those incredibly long legs. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He shook his head and glanced away, but no matter how hard he tried to forget her, her face kept floating before his eyes, constantly enticing him, heating his blood like a pressure cooker. Every day the torture mounted. He’d mistakenly thought if he paced his office long enough he’d diminish some of the sexual desire building inside him. He’d been terribly, terribly wrong. One more temptation, no matter how tiny, and he’d blow. She was getting to him, on a level that no other woman ever had, and it both thrilled him and scared the hell out of him. He would no longer be responsible for his actions. Yesterday, he’d come close to acting on his barbaric nature. Waiting like the predator he was turning into, he’d purposely stepped in front of her in the hallway just to inhale her perfume. It was a concoction of the devil, all pheromones and musk mixed with an exotic blend of tropical flowers. Every time she came within twenty feet of him, his libido crippled him. He craved her with a hunger so intense it was all he could do not to take her on the dining room table for dessert.
The hypnotic scent still haunted him. Still saturated his fingers from where he’d touched her arm the night before. Every time he was around her, his mutinous body betrayed him.
His gaze strayed to the window.
Frustrated, he rubbed a hand over his face, momentarily blocking out the sight of her statuesque body. The way the sunlight infiltrated her hair, turning it to newly minted gold. And those eyes, they had enchanted him from the first moment they latched onto him. As the days progressed, he became more and more involved in her life. She was all around him, her laughter, her dancing eyes, the heat of her fingers when he handed her a book from his personal library which he’d given her access to. And his body responded. Even now, his blood hammered in his veins as all his blood rushed south. What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like a teenager. He drew in a deep settling breath between clenched teeth, the self-control he prided himself on maintaining . . . gone. He walked around aroused, every day, all day, just knowing she was in the palace and within his reach. Night brought its own form of torment. In his erotic dreams, she was beneath him, her head thrown back from the pleasure he invoked—his name on her satiated lips. Madness, utter madness. He grabbed the edge of his desk as his legs buckled beneath him. Never had a woman affected him like this. Never. She was killing him, messing with his ability to not only function, but do his duty for his people.
He ventured another glance out the window to where the water in the pool glistened like tiny mirrors beneath the sun’s rays, but it wasn’t the tranquil waters of the pool that enthralled him. No. His focus zeroed in on her with complete clarity. His penetrating gaze raked every delectable inch of her body as she glanced out over the sea. Simple attraction between a man and a woman? Hell no! This was an uproar of sexual need that made his body shake. Consumed him. And every time he saw her, that need skyrocketed. The driving passion within him acted like a living and breathing thing. His throat went dry, and the palms of his hands began to sweat. He moaned aloud.
This is ridiculous!!
She shimmied out of the short, breezy dress, revealing the smallest turquoise bikini he’d ever seen. Grr! His brain went on lock-down—he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk. Where had she purchased such a piece of clothing? The swim suit barely covered . . .
Needing to distract his thoughts from the amount of tawny skin revealed by her swimming attire, he glanced at her wound sites. They appeared to be healing quite nicely. Yes, quite nicely. Her skin was sun-kissed and utterly appealing. He closed his eyes as an earthquake of longing rocked him to his core.
He struggled, without success, to concentrate on the business of running his country. Fat chance. The sensuous image of her long blond hair blowing around her naked shoulders in the salted breeze off the sea beckoned him like tentacles of burning desire. Every cell of his masculinity prickled. As if that weren’t enough to make him detonate, he suddenly remembered her eyes laughing up at him last night at dinner as he commented on her new dress. That dress! Ha! Memories of that incredible dress filtered through him. The shiny red silk confection clung to every curve, every delicious mound, every perfect indentation, coaxing his hands to roam over her flesh. His eyes still burned from the indelible image of her in that dress . . .
The erotic flashback continued to pulse at the corners of his mind. Sunset, a table for two overlooking the aquamarine Arabian Sea. Candles flickering in the tropical breeze, an elegant white tablecloth dotted with silver place settings and domed serving dishes. He’d dressed in his favorite black Prada suit. He closed his eyes, gathering his wits that seemed to elude him every time she appeared. No way to get around it. He was bedazzled by her. Wringing his hands, he had glanced out over the tranquil sea, wishing for just a smidgeon of its calmness. Then, the doors had slid open, and his mouth went dry as a hot tide of passion seized him. Gah! The ache to have her was so intense it nearly bent him in half. He tightened his lips to prevent a moan from escaping.
His gaze had zeroed in on the book in her hand, then flashed up to her face. What? Why had she brought a book to dinner? Did she intend to read it while they ate? Was he that boring? But all thoughts of books and libraries dissolved when his gaze connected with hers. Her eyes, those fantastic verdant eyes of hers, remained glued to him as she placed one stiletto foot in front of the other. Suddenly suffocating, his finger tugged his collar away from his throat as everything around him ceased to exist. The birds no longer sang, the waves no longer crashed against the shore, his breath no longer drew—everything stopped except for her. The way she moved, her laugh, that gorgeous, untamed hair fanning out behind her in the rising breeze, her expressive eyes outlined in black kohl. How his fingers itched to bunch that red material of her dress in his fingers, peel away the layers, until he reached her womanly heat. His breath swooshed out. What was happening to him? He was a man noted for his steel control. Why were his palms sweating?
“Good evening,” he had managed, his appreciative gaze inching over her as he rose from his seat and bowed. Pulling her chair out, she scooted past him to take her seat. Once again that damn perfume of hers melted his senses and his ability to function.
“May I have your permission to call you Jane until we solve the mystery of your identity?
He observed her as a plethora of emotions crossed her face. Silently, her lips formed the word Jane as she tested the name to see if it fit. His hopes soared, only to be dashed a few seconds when her brows drew together.
“Of course.” She lamented
He could tell by the confused look on her face that not knowing who she is was beginning to take a toll on her. If he could do anything to wipe away her stress he would gladly do it. He wanted her to be happy, to begin to enjoy her life again until her memories flooded back to her.
“How did you spend your day, Jane?” he inquired as he seated himself across from her. He shook his optic white napkin out and spread it over his lap, hiding his arousal. He grabbed the crystal glass filled with ice water and drained it, signaling for the waiter to refill his glass. At this rate, he’d need an ocean of ice water to resolve his desire. She laid the book on the table. Obedience in the Harem. He nearly choked on the water. Harem! Visions of the two of them entwined amid a bed of multi-colored silken pillows burned through his mind, heating his blood in the process.
Blinding longing flashed through him as an intense shiver of desire shook him to his masculine core. It was a miracle he didn’t ignite right on the spot. Or worse, shame himself like a school boy. But he was not a school boy, he was the sheik, and he needed to act accordingly.
“All the classics in the library, and this is what you chose to read?”
Her brilliant smile extended across the red roses of the centerpiece and smacked right into his heart.
“I was mesmerized by the content.”
He leaned in closer, his fingers tingling and crying out to touch her. “Really, do tell.”
Jane scooted her chair closer, then leaned in. In a voice just above a whisper, she said, “It explains a great deal about life in a harem.”
To say he was intrigued was a gross understatement. His gaze raked over her, taking in every aspect of that delicious body. His entire being hummed with excitement as he waited for her next words. “You do realize the harem disbanded years ago,” he said.
“Too bad.” She let out a great huff of disappointed breath. Again, ice water nearly shot out of his nose.
But not even ice water could dose the pressing need unfurling deep in the lower part of his body. He was hard. Harder than he’d ever been, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and his stomach hit his toes.
She was coming on to him? Now he was mesmerized. A seed of hope germinated. An eyebrow shot upward. “Are you saying you think the idea of the harem is romantic? That you wouldn’t mind being at a man’s beck and call?” Now that hot current of yearning ramped up to searing fervor. Any minute now, steam would shoot out his ears.
“With the right man . . . I wouldn’t mind at all. Are you that right man?”
Her bold suggestion startled the hell out of him. Shoving his fingers though his hair, he concentrated on breathing in and out. He didn’t dare pick up his ice water again for fear of humiliating himself further. Those damn tantalizing images kept flashing through his mind, getting more and more provocative by the second. “What exactly are you saying?”
Her thick eyelashes blinked one, twice, before her intense gaze locked on him. A sexy-as-hell smile teased the corners of her lips. “I’m saying I wouldn’t mind being in the harem with you.”
Kaboom! Explosive desire, savage in intensity, crippled him. He reached to grasp her hand, but in his excitement, knocked over not only their glasses of wine but the entire bottle. He jumped to his feet as the pinkish liquid soaked the tablecloth. Servants sprang into action, rushing to strip the tablecloth, and clean up the mess. The entire time, Malik refused to break eye contact with her. As soon as the tablecloth was replaced, the servants once again blended back into the darkness of the night.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t understand the concept of the harem. It would give me permission to . . .”
A small giggle escaped her, and the sound, so melodious, so feminine, sent a shock wave through him.
“Oh, Malik, I understand a lot more than you think I do. If I enter into this relationship, I enter with my eyes wide open.”
She leaned back in her chair and crossed those long legs of hers, her dress riding up her bronzed thigh. Spellbound, the inferno ravaged his body. He couldn’t swallow, couldn’t think of anything but that damn concept of her amid the scattered pillows, awaiting his pleasure.
“Of course, I would have a few demands of my own.”
Malik sat forward, waiting for her terms to be expressed. At this point, he’d agree to anything within reason, and within reason covered a broad amount of territory.
“State your terms.”
She flashed a smile so brilliant it lit up the night sky. “I would insist on exclusive rights to you.”
His lips eased up into a slow smile. “Done. I’m flattered . . . more than I can say.”
She reached across the table and patted his hand. His fingers immediately threaded through hers.
“Just think about it. There’s no rush.” She murmured, her voice as soft as a desert breeze.
What was there to think about? He wanted her. Had since the first moment he saw her. Yes. The answer was definitely yes, but he didn’t want her to make a rash decision based on something she’d read in an ancient book.
“For tonight, let’s change the subject. I think we both need some time to think about how to proceed from here.”
She cradled her face in the palms of her hands. “If you think you need time, then by all means take it. My mind is made up. I want you.”
Good God! This temptress was going to bring him to his knees.
“I hope I’m not being too forward, but when I see something I like . . . I go for it.”
He growled his pleasure. He needed to change the subject and do so in a hurry before he tested the strength of the dining table. “Let’s get back to your day.” He choked out. Before I explode.
She picked up her wineglass, taking a long sip. As her tongue snaked out to capture a wayward drop remaining on her lips, he glanced out over the sea. His hands began to shake and sweat. He was in tune to her every movement, and the sensual magnetism between them was off the charts. He could already think of nothing but being inside her. After dinner, he’d have to stand in a cold shower for a couple of hours. Her next words interrupted his carnal musings.
“I started to volunteer at the orphanage.”
What the hell? Who had okayed that? Certainly not him. Tomorrow, when his brain started functioning again, he’d go to the orphanage and install cameras, locks, and anything else he deemed necessary to keep her safe. And if required, he’d strike out time in his schedule to accompany her. Nothing was going to happen to her. Not after he’d just found her. Nothing, he reminded himself. He swallowed down his apprehension. “How wonderful. We can use all the help we can get, and I’m sure you’ll be a great fit with the children. Just make sure a bodyguard or I am with you at all times.”
She tore her gaze away from him and glanced out over the darkening sea. “Nazem won’t let me go anywhere without one.”
He chuckled. “Nazem is a very smart man, so you would do well to follow his advice. Your safety is our utmost concern.”
A faraway look overtook her features. Could she be remembering something?
“How is your memory? Has anything come back? Any hints about your past?”
Servants swarmed around them as they began to serve dinner. Their constant hovering was meddlesome, so Malik dismissed them with a flick of his hand. “We’ll serve ourselves tonight. If we need any more assistance, I’ll ring for you.” The silent army of help slowly receded from the terrace, leaving them alone at last.
He reached for the serving platter, but her hand stopped him.
“Doctor Hajjah, tell me about your family.” Her soft voice blended with the current of the tropical wind.
“After the last few moments, don’t you think you can call me Malik? I think we’re past formalities.”
“Malik,” she corrected, tossing her hair over her shoulder. His gaze followed the gentle movement of her blond curls.
The sound of his name on those tempting lips did things to his body he had never experienced. Leaning against the back of his chair, he struggled to find the right words. “It’s a ghastly tale, and not one I’m comfortable reliving.”
He intercepted the faint glimmer of compassion in her eyes before her smile slipped into a frown that bunched the area above her brilliant eyes. “No, I’m not interested in how things ended. Tell me about your childhood.”
An emotional lump the size of a chicken egg sealed his throat. He sat forward and once again began to serve the meal. “My father was known as the ‘lion of the desert.’ He ruled this land with an iron hand.” For a brief second, he closed his eyes as memories overtook him.
“And your mother?” Jane’s hand snaked forward to grasp his, and after a nanosecond, his fingers closed around hers.
He drew in a deep breath before continuing, “My mother was a gentle creature. She loved us with her whole being.”
Her gaze swallowed his. “And your brothers and sister?”
A heaviness lacerated his heart, but the nearness of her gave him a comfort he couldn’t explain. His relaxed grip tightened on her hand as a storm of hot emotion welled up inside him. He blinked several times, battling to maintain his composure. Glancing out over the moonlit sea, an immense sadness shadowed him. “As children we were hellions, running through the palace, yelling at each other, fighting with each other, but we began to assume our responsibilities as we grew older. We were as close as siblings could be.”
His appetite disappeared.
“I would love to see some pictures of them.” Her voice was breathless, as if she experienced the pain stabbing at his heart.
“I will show them to you,” he replied, “but right now you need to eat. You are still regaining your strength.”
He spied the longing in her eyes, and when those oh-so-plump lips of hers lifted at the corners, her smile knocked the breath from his lungs. She leaned back and smoothed the napkin on her lap. His gaze followed the motion, envious of her fingers.
~ ~ ~
That was last night and he’d managed to get through the night without taking her to his bed. Today . . . he didn’t know if he could continue to hold back his sensual nature any longer.
Malik shook his head, returning his mind to the present. That sleek red dress would haunt him for as long as he lived. He swallowed the cotton clogging his throat, lust bubbling inside him like a witch’s brew.
Damn that bathing suit of hers and all that delicious skin it revealed.
He froze.
What the hell was wrong with him? He was lusting after a woman who was under his protection. What type of a man did that make him? He sniffed with disgust—yeah—he had a name for that type of man. He had plenty of them. Cad, selfish bastard, womanizer—they all fit. He’d had other women—lots of women—but this was different. This was . . . instinctive.
He should go out. Take a drive for an hour or two, long enough to get his body to cool. Yes, that’s what he would do. He picked up his keys from his desk and started for the door, but then remembering his wallet on his desk, he whirled around. That’s when he made the grave mistake of glancing toward the pool area.
“Son of a . . .” he grumbled aloud. Shoving his hand behind his neck, he rubbed at the tension there.
The small triangles of her swimwear were not big enough to pass for postage stamps. Her exquisite breasts bounced with her movements. His eyes followed her, glued to the sight of creamy, gyrating flesh. Hypnotized by her movements, he groaned and couldn’t look away. He was on fire, all of his senses vibrating with an urgency that longed to be fulfilled.
He hurt from it. A cold shower would no longer do the trick. He was beyond that . . . way beyond that.
As Jane ran a finger under the waist of her suit bottom and snapped it into place, his tongue wet his suddenly dry lips. He threw his keys back on the desk, all desire for escape forgotten. He wanted to rip away the tiny barriers of her suit. With shaky fingers, he reached for the electric fan atop his desk and flipped it on. Fiddling with his collar, he leaned over and forced the cool air down his shirt. His cell phone rang. He ignored it, unable to pull his gaze away from her. Geez, he had it bad.
I will not survive this day. After their romantic dinner the previous night, his body craved more. He craved more. He already knew her feelings. She’d stated them quite explicitly.
Edging toward the pool, she arched her arms over her head in preparation for a dive. His gaze froze the image in his memory, searing it in his mind for all eternity. He flipped the fan onto high and let the circulating cool air blow over his face.
Long tanned legs, bent knees, exposed womanly flesh. He wiped a hand across his brow as desire of volcanic portions racked his body. “Help me,” he murmured, looking heavenward.
Arching her delicious body in the air, she plunged into the royal blue water of the pool. He strode closer to the window as she surfaced. When she heaved herself out of the pool, water sluiced over her body, plastering the translucent material of her suit against her puckered nipples. Blood hammering in his ears, he could do nothing but stare.
It was the last straw.
His self-control in tatters, he’d made his decision. He must have her. Now, if his body had any say. He strode out of his office and headed for the pool.
~ ~ ~
She lounged in the cushioned pool chaise next to the gigantic infinity pool, staring out at the cerulean Arabian Sea, her thoughts centered solely on the sexy sheik. Groves of palm trees rippled in the mounting breeze, their fern-like fronds whispering a soothing song. The flagstone terrace appeared to be a mile wide, with numerous sophisticated umbrella tables, along with Moroccan-influenced wicker seating groups, that lined the perimeter of water. A stone wall partially secluded anyone swimming in the expansive pool. The tangy breeze immersed her in delicious mix of citrus and sea. The delectable aromas stirred around her, ruffling her swiftly drying hair and setting her large hoop earrings dancing against her cheeks. Drawing a large-toothed comb through her hair, she struggled with a stubborn knot, working it until the comb slid smoothly through. Picking up her sun tan lotion, she squeezed a dollop into her palm, applying a thick layer. She didn’t have the pale skin that required constant monitoring in the sun. No, she could spend hours in it without burning.
She paused, her mouth dropping open in surprise. How did she know that? She sat forward, drying her hands on her beach towel. She’d give anything to have the entirety of her memory back, anything. If only those insistent flashbacks would put themselves into some sort of order, she could begin piecing the puzzle of her life back together. Her frustration was growing daily. Settling back against the comfort of the chair, she endeavored to calm the emotions threatening to propel her into a panic attack. She paused and reviewed Malik’s instructions. She mustn’t push herself. Relax. The memories would come back. She just had to give her brain time to heal. When . . . when . . . when, beat the mantra in her head.
Disheartened, she felt like throwing something against the wall. Okay . . . okay, you need to calm down. Getting upset won’t solve the problem, and it certainly won’t heal your mind any faster. She opened the magazine she’d brought to the pool and, sliding her sunglasses on, compelled her body to de-stress. Taking deep, calming breaths, she stretched out on the opulent chaise like a lazed cat on a sunny afternoon.
Concealed within the pages of her fashion magazine was Rapture, one of those trashy tabloids everyone reads to get the scoop on celebrities. This particular one was her secret obsession. She’d been known to travel to a multitude of stores in order to get the latest edition, hot off the presses. She gasped—it was another small piece of her memory. Maybe this relaxing thing could prove advantageous to her recovery.
She flipped through the magazine. This copy was of interest because Sheik Malik el Hajjah dominated the pages. Her infatuation with the sheik was growing daily. She desired his company constantly, and when he wasn’t with her . . . she fantasized about making love to him. About being in those oh-so-strong arms of his. About having those luscious lips of his taking hers. It had been excruciatingly hard to walk away from him last night after she’d stated how much she craved to become involved with him. She fanned herself with the magazine one whole minute before she glanced around to see if any of his servants were present. She didn’t want any of them to come out and catch her reading up on him; they were sure to gossip. She didn’t need gossip.
One picture showed him looking breathtakingly handsome in a black tux at a charity event. The blonde on his arm, curvaceous and strikingly beautiful, gazed up at him adoringly as if he were a god. Another exhibited him streaking across a polo field in full gallop, scoring the winning goal. Then a full-page displayed him sharing a candlelit dinner with a redhead in an expensive restaurant. The caption read: International playboy Sheik Malik el Hajjah changes women with the ease that other men change shirts.
“Hmm,” she murmured, tapping a nail against her lips.
She glanced up when she heard the terrace doors opening, and her breath caught when the man himself stepped onto the terrace. She lowered her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose to get a better look. She’d never seen him in anything casual. Usually he was dressed in long desert robes, loose fitting hospital scrubs, or the mesmerizing suit he had worn last night, which had fully captured his royal aura. But not today. Today his black designer polo shirt hugged his biceps, emphasizing the powerful sculpture of his chest. Well-worn jeans molded his thighs and waist, drawing her attention to his . . . anatomy. His mirrored sunglasses gave him an added air of mystery. Certainly, the pictures in her magazine didn’t do him justice.
His inky hair caught a breeze, disheveling the sexy layers around his face. The illusion gave him the appearance of a satisfied man who’d just been tossed out of a women’s bed. Of course, a woman would have to be certifiably insane to topple such a fine masculine specimen.
He dripped sex, oozed it from his pours. She blew a heated breath through her bangs. Way out of her league, she cautioned. Think self-preservation. She had no business ogling him like he was a tempting pastry. Oh, for heaven’s sake! This could only be a short-termed relationship. Any day now, her memory would come flooding back, and she’d be gone. No sense complicating her life any further. As mouth-watering as he was, she could almost bet the ranch that she didn’t belong in this realm of high society, let alone as the houseguest of a powerful sheik.
Wise up, Cinderella, soon it will be pumpkin time . . . and when the clock strikes midnight, you’ll be standing on the side of the road with your suitcase. She let out an exaggerated sigh, closed her eyes and decided to indulge herself just this once. People had summer romances all the time. Didn’t they?
He prowled closer with all the superior grace of his elevated rank. As she continued to stare, she sensed some purposeful new determination in his stride. He bee-lined toward her as if in pursuit. Pursuit, really? Now she was becoming delusional. Too much time in the sun had cooked what was left of her brain; soon she’d be seeing flying carpets. Closer he came, a symphony of masculine movement, and a shiver racked her body. The candid conversation they’d had last night upped the sexual ante. He knew she wanted him. And she knew he wanted her. The heat of the day only made the situation more explosive. Her eyes drifted over him again, taking in every splendid detail, from his bare feet up.
Her wobbly confidence of a few minutes ago disintegrated. This man was dangerous, more so now that he’d let her see his tender side. Last night they had talked for hours while dining. The sadness he felt about his family was tangible. A monumental tragedy. Her heart went out to him. And that was a precarious spot for her to be in. Her heart was thumping so hard she feared he could hear it. She removed her sunglasses as she closed her magazine.
In little more than an instant, he was standing beside her, staring down at her. He was big and masculine, and a primal power haloed him. The sight of his body literally stole her breath, not to mention the way he talked and walked and those lips of his—their shape and size calling to the deepest feminine part of her.
“Am I disturbing you?” he asked.
Disturbing her? Hell yes, he was disturbing her, but not in the sense he meant. Her mind struggled to form a mere thought when she was this close to him. Disturbing her? She almost laughed aloud.
She finally managed to form a sentence. “No, I was just perusing this magazine.” Hurriedly she tucked the magazine under her leg, hiding the scandalous articles about him.
He shifted his weight, cocking his leg into a lazy stance. “I was about to order some lunch. Would you care to join me?”
Impeccable manners, but something told her he had more on his mind than lunch. Raising her hand to shield the sun obscuring her view, she replied, “Of course.”
He looped a thumb through his belt loop before continuing, “Can I have the pleasure of ordering for you, or is there something special you’d like.” As he spoke his lips twitched into a melt-your-brain smile.
Oh. My. God.
Were they still talking about lunch? Because she had a strong impression he’d moved on to a more heated menu. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”
He dragged his sunglasses off. The blatant heat in those translucent sapphire eyes scorched her skin. The smoldering flames she spied within the depths of his eyes confirmed her suspicions No doubt about it, he was talking about something other than lunch. Her whole being skittered away as she waited for whatever he’d say next. She was hoping he was about to order a little afternoon delight. Her pulse ramped up, hammering against her temple. His next question confirmed her fondest wish.
“Whatever I want?” he questioned, the whiteness of his even teeth contrasting starkly against his tanned skin. He slung her beach towel out of his way as he sat down beside her. “A woman should be careful about blindly agreeing to a man’s appetite,” he counseled.
“All I’m agreeing to is sustenance, Sheik Hajjah. Nothing more.”
Again, with the sexy smile. “Malik,” he corrected, his eyes tracking unhurriedly across every inch of her body, devouring the sight of her as if she were his noon meal. “Yes, sustenance,” he added. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Obtaining sustenance. A man needs sustenance.”
Although the day was sweltering, his words made her shiver, even as her cheeks glowed like the core of a pottery kiln.
He stood, turned, and walked a short distance away, giving her an excellent view of his backside. He pulled out his cell phone, and as he ordered lunch, she continued her scrutiny from beneath lowered lashes. Long, muscular legs propelled him to the far side of the pool. The arrogant tilt of his head unequivocally proclaimed that he was master of all he surveyed. Seasoned regal power radiated from his every movement. Instead of taking away from his appeal, it amplified it. Strong, handsome, sexually overpowering . . . she craved him with a fever that would pop any thermometer. Still, something told her that becoming intimate with a man like him would be the biggest blunder of her life . . . or life as she now knew it. Stop! Stop! Stop doubting yourself. Stop doubting this! Go with the flow.
She shook off the warning that flashed through her brain. No. For once in her life she was going to take a chance. Walk on the wild side, and if it ended in heartbreak . . . so be it. At least she’d have given it her best shot. If any man was worth her best shot . . . this sexy sheik scored in the stratosphere.
He turned to face her, and a smile spread across his face. Those fantastic eyes of his latched onto hers. Bluer-than-blue, their color mirrored the sea surrounding them. Everywhere his gaze touched, her skin buzzed. As he approached, the breeze mingled with the spicy scent of his cologne. She inhaled, dragging his scent deeper into her lungs.
He escorted her over to the umbrella table on the terrace that overlooked the sea, his fingers cupping her elbow, scorching her skin.
Beyond them was nothing but water. A few steps down, and you were on the private sandy beach. She stumbled at his nearness, but strong fingers kept her from falling. Moments later, a servant appeared from behind the terrace doors with a tray of crisp salads, a pitcher of iced tea with lemon, two glasses of ice, and a bowl of delicious strawberries buried under whipped cream. He could order all her meals if they looked this delicious. The servant left after setting the tray on the table and bowing to the sheik.
When they were alone once more, he pulled out one of the chairs, waiting for her to sit.
“I’m starving,” she said, practically drooling at the sight of the delicious food.
Pushing her closer to the table, he leaned down, his warm breath fanning the hair next to her ear, “Yes, I’m absolutely famished.”
Her insides turned to jelly, and she tittered like a ditzy schoolgirl. Oh, God. He enjoyed gorgeous, sophisticated women, and she was giggling. Get a hold of yourself, moron.
Taking the seat beside her in the over-sized wicker chair, he acted as host, serving them both.
They talked nonchalantly as they polished off their meal. Then he offered her dessert. Lifting a ripe strawberry to her lips, he coaxed her to bite. As her teeth sank into the meaty flesh of the fruit, a slight moan escaped those sumptuous lips of his as his fingers wiped away the excess whipped cream. He brought them to his lips and slowly, seductively, licked his fingers.
Her insides knotted into a tense ball of need.
Before she succumbed to the squall of lust in her body, she managed, “Sheik Malik, you’re trying to seduce me.”
A burst of masculine laughter enveloped her, deep and husky. He leaned in closer. “What an outrageous idea! And it would please me greatly if you would call me Malik.”
“Malik,” she corrected, and she noticed the way his eyes glowed when she said his name. She reached up and smoothed an errant strand of hair away from her eyes. “You might think it’s an outrageous idea, but I would like nothing more than to spend the entire afternoon alone with you in your harem.”
“I think you’re referring to my bedroom. Stop reading that damnable book.” Sliding back into the plushness of the chair, creating space for her, he pulled her down onto his lap, dragging her so close, his body imprisoned hers, giving her the ultimate sensation of being protected. His knuckles feathered along her cheek before his thumb brushed the rest of the cream from her lips.
A lightning bolt shot through her.
She swallowed with difficulty.
Time suspended as he studied her like she was an exquisite piece of artwork. “Nothing would please me more. I want you with every fiber of my body.” His voice drifted into a lower octave, raspy with emotion. Deep down inside her, longing unfurled—tightened—became insistent.
“Are you sure?” she countered, hopelessly ensnared in the blueness of his eyes.
“Does that surprise you?” His large hand cupped her chin and held it as he continued to stare at her.
“Yes, it does,” she fired back, her voice breathless. “You’ve been avoiding me for these past two weeks.”
The tension between them increased.
One hand wrapped around her waist, holding her to him. “With good reason. I was afraid of what I might do. And then last night, I decided I could no longer pretend. I want you.”
If the arrogant sheik was dangerous, the playful sheik was lethal. Her heart contracted in her chest. She knew if she leaned in a fraction of an inch, her lips would mesh with his. Tempting. Beguiling. She held her position, millimeters from his encroaching lips. “Your Highness, I think you mistake me for an easy conquest?” she teased.
He sat upright inching closer to her, than nearer still, closing the gap between them. Their warm breaths mingled. If possible, his voice became even lower and more seductive. “Just the opposite.”
“Now I know you’re tormenting me.” If she took a breath, his lips would meet hers. How would his lips feel pressed against hers? Aggressive? Soft? After last night, she yearned to find out. She reached out, her hands grasping his shirt, and pulled him into the heat of her body.
Her breath stilled, but she recovered quickly enough to advance the game, wholeheartedly enjoying the flirtation. Her arms encircled his neck, pulling his head down to her as her lips pressed against the flesh she’d daydreamed about for weeks. She’d apparently shocked him with her bold move, but as his lips traced hers, the tender kiss turned fevered. Then, without warning, he broke the kiss.
Warning bells tolled inside her head. This was it. The point of no return. But she wanted him. Oh, how she wanted this.
She turned, reached into the bowl, and dragged a strawberry through the rich succulent cream. His gaze tore away from her and focused on the berry as she lifted it to his waiting lips.
He bit into it . . . chewed. Their eyes locked, and the hunger she saw in his gaze made her tremble.
His gaze held on to hers, the intensity making a prisoner of her. “If you have any misgiving about being with me, now would be the time to express those concerns.”
He was direct, she gave him that. He’d moved their relationship to a new level. Giving her head a little shake, “None. I have absolutely no concerns about being with you. I trust you, Malik.”
She dredged another berry and held it up to his juice-stained lips. When his tongue darted out and licked the cream, her insides contracted. “It seems my lord’s appetite has wandered away from food.” She followed the movement of his Adam’s apple as he struggled to swallow.
“Your lord is about to lose control of himself.”
“Are you saying things might get out of hand?” she taunted. She corralled the flowing strands of her hair, pulling them back.
Catching a wayward tendril in his fingers, he brought the golden strands up to his nose, inhaling their fragrance before continuing, “Define out of hand.”
The simple motion of him burying his nose in her hair had her sinking her teeth into her lower lip to keep a little gasp of delight from escaping. Her heart was beating so hard it was a miracle it didn’t fly out of her chest. Oh, how she enjoyed flirting with him. In fact, she enjoyed everything about him.
“I think we need to set some ground rules,” she teased, releasing her hair and running her hands along his forearms, the solid muscular flesh contracting beneath her fingers.
A hint of a smile touched his lips before his blue eyes captured hers. “Oh, by all means, let’s set some ground rules so I can immediately break them.” His smile broadened, flashing his optic white teeth. “Are these rules things you discovered while reading your book?” he growled, moving closer, trapping her within his spread thighs. Her awareness of his maleness intensified. Her breath halted in her throat.
His dark eyebrows arched. “Rules. Let me see. You want harem rules.” He leaned forward, his lips feathering a kiss against hers. “I’ll give you rules. How about rule number one—you’re mine.”
“Is this where I bargain for my weight in gold, Your Highness?” She drew back, feigning shock. His left eyebrow flicked a little higher only a second before his potent gaze caressed every inch of her body. “You are worth a thousand times your weight in gold.”
A small laugh spilled from her lips. She was absolutely mesmerized by this man. “And what will I get in return for my affections? Rapture proclaims you have quite a reputation with women.”
He looked at her as if he were memorizing every detail about her. He blinked, and her legs wobbled. “Is that a fact?”
Their eyes met. “Prove what they say,” she teased, throwing him an I-dare-you look.
His gaze focused solely on her lips. Using her tongue, she licked the moisture back into them.
He groaned, a deep masculine sound that sparked liquid fire along her limbs. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. Prove it.”
He pulled back. “Are you daring me?”
For a moment, she thought she’d gone too far. Flirting with a man like him was one thing, daring him was quite another. Now, he was deliberately stroking the fire blazing out of control between them. Was she crazy? Never before had she been more aware of a man’s sexual magnetism. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Her nipples budded into hard peaks.
In one swift movement, his fingers were beneath her knee. Carefully he raised her leg up and over his granite thigh, using caution to keep from hitting her against the arm of the chair. It was a snug fit, but he liked her right up against him. He jerked her roughly higher onto his lap, straddling him, his strong muscles contracting beneath her thighs. Large hands framed her butt, hitching her up higher against him, pressing her into his arousal.
“Jane, what other type of proof do you require? I want you. Here . . . now. Every moment I’m not inside you is torture.”
For a long moment, they both held their breath as their bodies jostled against each other. Sex with him would be explosive—an atomic detonation.
“I’m afraid that I do require further clarification, my lord,” she said, running her fingers through his hair, enjoying its rich, satiny texture. Her palms cupped his cheeks, the dark-skinned features of his face.
He tossed his head, sending one of the locks of hair down against his forehead. Her fingers eased it back into place. “I feel as if I’ve waited an eternity for this moment.”
That sexy grin of his was back, its intoxicating power going straight to her feminine center. He was cocky as hell, but she caught the small tick vibrating in his lower jaw. His breathing sounded labored as his voice broke, “Suppose I don’t live up to your expectations?”
Tenderness flooded his gaze, and her heart dropped to her toes.
Right? In what parallel universe would he not live up to her expectations? No, not a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening. “Just see that you do,” she playfully demanded, giving him an impish wink.
His eyes widened.
She laughed, a giggle actually. She’d shocked him. Her. The girl who never did anything extraordinary. She’d managed to shock the worldly sheik.
His brows furrowed over those delectable eyes of his. Their blueness deepened as they searched hers. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”
Her smile broadened as a feeling a feminine power surged through her. “I’ll let you know in the morning.”
He rose, letting her slide to her feet. He started to pace a few feet away, staring heavenward as if collecting his thoughts. She hoped he hadn’t changed his mind. After a few moments, he turned to face her. “Be careful, my little minx, or I’ll take you right here on the terrace. That would give you all the clarification you require.” Electricity sparked through the air around them. She held her breath, anticipating his next move. What would he do? What would she? It all boiled down to this moment in time. Did she have the nerve to go through with this? Did he? Gooseflesh flooded her body. Suddenly making love to him was the center of her universe. Nerves strung tight gave way to a teasing playfulness.
“Oh?” she huffed, placing her hands on her hips in mocked shock. “And who’s to say you can have me?”
He ate up the distance between them in the blink of an eye. He pulled her close, dropping his head a fraction as his hands threaded through her hair. He twisted her blonde locks around his fists, reeling her in, so close his hot breath washed over her face. He jammed his lips down against hers. It was an incendiary kiss, igniting every cell in her body. He tasted of sweet, sweet strawberries, and pure man, the nectar invading her mouth along with his tongue.
He pulled away and stared into her eyes, the heat from their encounter blistering her cheeks. “Any other questions?”
Grabbing him by the material of his shirt, she pulled him hard into her, her breasts smashing against his chest, and kissed him long and hard, his guttural moan honeyed music to her ears. When she released him, he mirrored a man well into the throes of passion. “I would not want to disappoint my lord either.”
Far from satisfied, she bumped seductively against him, teasing him, and was rewarded by his low, visceral growl.
“Disappoint me?” he said in a breathless whisper. “I am your captive.”
Oh, God! Could he hear her sigh? She was ready to swoon. Laughter bubbled in her throat. Swoon. She sounded like some innocent heroine in an historical novel. She wasn’t. But this man, this incredible sexy man, robbed her breath and promised endless delights and satisfaction. She wanted him with a longing she was sure she had never experienced.
She tilted her head toward him, and he lowered his lips to hers. Sexual energy surged between them, zinging every cell like a shock from an exposed outlet. At first his kiss was teasing, gentle, but then he pulled her hard against him.
Things changed instantly.
Muscular arms crushed her against his chest. His hands slid around her waist as he drew her even closer, their bodies molded from chest to knees. She marveled at the way their bodies fit together, as if designed for each other. For the first time in weeks, she felt content. Like she’d come home.
“No more games, you’re driving me crazy.” Malik growled, his warm breath pulsing against her cheek.
Not waiting for a response, his lips descended on hers again, his tongue invading her mouth. She clung to his shirt, unable to get herself close enough, suddenly impatient for him to be inside her, filling her. The world spun as his tongue slid against hers again, tangling in a mating dance. He reached down between her parted thighs. Using his fingers, he brushed her most intimate womanly spot. She moaned. He steadied her when her legs gave way, his hands bracing her hips. For a long, stunned moment, it was all she could do to just breathe. Shaking off her inability to move, to respond, she took action. Sliding her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt, she bunched the soft material in her fingers. “This needs to come off.”
Tossing the shirt aside, she explored his naked chest, her fingers playing with the dark hair before sliding to his nipple. Already erect, she teased the nub with her fingers. She felt the breath contract in his chest. Empowered, she fanned her fingers across the waistband of his jeans. When her fingers slid below his waistband, he jerked, mumbling something crude. She felt a certain feminine competence as she continued to glide her fingers along his impressive shaft.
As she was gloating in her success, his fingers trailed with agonizing slowness across her rib cage, climbing to her breast. He brushed the nothing material of her bathing suit aside, cupping her flesh in his teasing fingers. She watched as his tanned fingers enclosed the snowy flesh of her breast, the contrast striking. She nearly exploded within his arms. Another second and her bikini top hit the stones of the terrace. He chuckled—a low, primitive sound that made her head spin with pleasure.
“Your body was made for me.”
She bit her lip to keep from crying out in delight. God, this man . . .
His laughter died on his lips as her fingers crawled across his rib cage again, and his sharp indrawn breath contracted his muscles into compact ridges. Her fingers moved into the taut valley of his pectoral muscles, teasing as they once again drifted downward. Turning her fingers slightly, she dipped them below, teasing the contracting flesh of his lower abdomen with long, unhurried strokes. His nostrils flared as her fingers undid the button of his fly, his flesh so hot, so smooth beneath her fingers. She stood on tiptoe, kissing him with a fervor that amazed her. His fingers captured the back of her head, holding her in place as his lips seared into hers. He was her private fantasy—one hundred percent virile male. She wanted more. Craved everything he was capable of giving her—the whole shebang.
He captured her seeking fingers and brought them up to his lips. “I think we should continue this in a more private setting.”
“The harem?” she teased, gazing at his big hand on top of hers. When she looked up and she saw the laughter in his eyes.
“Again with this harem stuff.” He injected, smiling a heart-melting smile. “For your information, the harem has been a schoolroom since my mother married my father,” he teased, his voice a smoky, erotic treat. “Let’s move this to my bedroom.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving him a coquettish smile as she said, “Oh, I’m so disappointed in you, Sheik Malik. Where is your sense of adventure?”
“I’ll save my sense of adventure for under the sheets.”
Before he finished talking, she felt him tense, his entire body going rigid under her fingers. “Damn,” he muttered against her ear. The dark slash of his brows lowered into a scowl as he stooped and retrieved his polo shirt. He pulled it over her head, covering her from her shoulders to mid-thigh. She stared at him in questioning disbelief.
Between clenched teeth, he spat out, “Jane, we have company.”
Confusion narrowed her eyes as she glanced from side to side, her gaze taking in the entire length of the terrace. She saw nothing. “What?” she questioned.
He flipped his head toward the open sea. “Out there, the cabin cruiser.”
More than anything on this earth she wanted to turn around and look, but he prevented her movement by grabbing her chin. “Don’t,” he said. “They’re taking pictures. As much as my security force can protect me, the sea leaves room for telephoto lenses to capture my every movement.”
The pictures she’d been ogling in Rapture flew through her mind. How long had those men been there? Oh, God! She was going to be in some awful magazine with her breasts exposed for the whole world to see! What if her family was somewhere out there and they saw horrible semi-naked pictures of her? How could she have been so foolish? Though they were at his private palace, it still was out in the open. What had she been thinking to behave in such a wanton manner out here where anyone could and apparently did see her? For God’s sake! She clutched his chest, leaning into him, concealing her face from the photographers. He wrapped one arm around her in a protective gesture, using the other to pull out his cell phone and dial a number. Speaking in rapid Arabic, he issued orders to his security force. Holding her close, hiding her from any more explicit scrutiny, he started to inch toward the terrace doors. When they were halfway there, suited men rushed past them with weapons drawn. Malik kept walking, but she sneaked a peek under his arm. She watched as a boat overtook the cabin cruiser. Malik’s bodyguards swarmed the paparazzi’s boat, handcuffing the four men aboard.
“Nazem is on it. They will not be so eager to break the law after they spend time in our prison,” he reassured, kissing the top of her forehead.
“Can we just go inside, please?” She was shaking. He held her away from him, his gaze swiftly taking her in.
“You have nothing to fear with me beside you. You are under my protection, and I’ll never let anything hurt you. You must trust me to take care of you.” He inched her chin up with his finger and gazed into her eyes. “Trust me, I will not disappoint you.”
More than anything, she wanted to believe him. Over the past two weeks, he had protected her well. There hadn’t been any more attempts on her life, but a girl could never be too cautious.
“Just get me out of here.”