by Ella Brooke
“I’m the sheikh of Dubaya, and I do as I please.”
She snickered. “Am I what you want to do?”
“No, you’re the person I’m intrigued by; that’s very different. Now,” he said, grazing the bluntness of his teeth against the skin of her neck and causing goosebumps to spread over her skin. “Can you not argue for once, Tiger? I want to make you feel good.”
Normally Tiffany would never be in this predicament. Then again, what was normal anymore? Normal was a day her world wasn’t crumbling. Normal was a day when the hottest man she’d ever seen wasn’t literally begging her for sex. Normal was a time when she hadn’t downed most of a bottle of champagne. These were extraordinary, extenuating circumstances, and for once she just wanted to turn off her brain. Needed to turn it off.
“Alright, Sirhan, please. I need you but I can’t… Not everything, not tonight.”
He nodded, as if he could read her very thoughts. “I only want to make you feel good, to help you avoid feeling all the pain that’s plaguing you. You’re going to be able to stop thinking on it, at least for a while, Tiger.”
Then he was done talking. Sirhan had gifted hands and he was able to pull her soaked shirt off with little fuss, despite the way it had been clinging to her arms. Idly, part of her wondered if he had experience undressing women in every circumstance. It was a stupid thought to have, and would lead to nowhere good. So she banished it away and let the sensation surround her. There was the chill of the Swiss mountain air, the smell of the pine and freshly fallen snow from the morning, so clean and crisp. There was the slopping of the water as they moved and pushed their hips together as well as the gentle whistle of wind through the trees. Then there were the sensations, the feel of his hands on her shoulders, then of those strong palms cupping each of her breasts and massaging them.
“God, Tiger, what amazing curves you have.”
She wanted to argue that she was too short and too heavy, that she was perennially trying to lose that last ten pounds. But he was here, and he cared about her for whatever lucky reason. Besides, if someone as amazing as Sirhan said she was beautiful and amazing, it felt like she had no choice but to believe him. After all, he would know.
Maybe that was giving her part of the confidence she’d been lacking, that doubt that had been growing ever deeper in her since her mother’s call.
Then his eager mouth was on her right breast, suckling at it and she moaned, thrusting her chest toward him. While one hand held her steady on his lap in the water, the other traced lower, passing over the skin of her stomach and then resting on the waistband of her pants.
He pulled her mouth away from his ministrations long enough to say, “Those pants need to go.”
“I thought…”
He kissed her throat. “No, this is about you, only you. I’m going to make you feel so good. That’s all you need. Tiger, you have nothing to worry about with me. Do you want my fingers on you? I just need you to say the words.”
She hesitated, not sure where to go from here. Rationally, she needed to put her clothes on, get the hell out of there, and return his charity. He was a guest and she wasn’t, and rules and boundaries existed for a reason. But she had never felt this way, even with old boyfriends. This was something new, a fiery inferno that was building between them and that she couldn’t escape. Something that she needed to let consume her, if only because she couldn’t fight it anymore.
“Touch me everywhere, Sirhan.”
It took a few minutes of maneuvering. Even his smooth skills were flummoxed for a moment with the soaked leggings, but they peeled off eventually, and the anticipation of his fingers on her made the moment of contact that much sweeter. His fingers parted her folds, and she mewled again, squealing a bit like a kitten before she bit her lower lip. They needed to get through this and get out. If any of the staff noticed her, she was done. Making noise would be crazy.
Well, making more than she already had, but damn if Sirhan didn’t have magical fingers. His long digits found her core and two slid in easily. Tiffany clenched her legs around his waist and pushed her hips deeper, trying to take him in as best she could, even as his fingers plumbed her depths. While he did that, he put his mouth over her left nipple, the one that had been neglected earlier, and gave it a long, hard suck. His tongue swirled around the peaks of her areola and now the fire was consuming every cell of her body, blazing through every pore of her skin.
She was so close…
Then he put the thumb of his other hand against her most sensitive bundle of nerves, adding a hint of pressure with his digit. Flame flared through her soul and she arched her back, beckoning him on further with her body with its need. Two fingers of one hand eased in and out of her at rhythm so fast she could barely comprehend it as his knuckles pressed against her precious pearl. Then she felt it, that final flare of that inferno surging through her, and she came, screaming in spite of herself.
When she felt whole again, she tried to lift her head up from his shoulder, but her entire body felt like a wet, overcooked noodle. There was no way she’d be able to hop out of the pool any time soon, not as relaxed as she was. Idly, she lifted her head up and stared into the sheikh’s eyes.
“That was amazing.”
“I know. Thank you for letting me help you find pleasure.”
A third voice sounded out. “I hope it was worth it, Miss Saunders, because you’re fired.”
Chapter Four
“Miss Saunders, do you have any idea the kind of disrespect you’ve shown the hotel and our policies tonight? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Mrs. Wagner eyed Tiffany over the rim of her half-moon glasses, her expression somewhere between ‘dour’ and ‘swallowed a live frog’ levels of pissed off.
How could she blame her boss? She was caught red handed, among other things, and not only was she breaking rules, but flagrantly ignoring them; shredding every last one to share one moment of passion with Sirhan. With her head clearing rapidly, she couldn’t even find a way to explain any of what happened. To her, there was a thin thread of logic outside of it all, even the alcohol. She had been shocked and scared by the news of her father, and Sirhan shared her pain in a way that she never anticipated. In a moment of stupidity and weakness, she reached for comfort and this was where it had led her.
After Mrs. Wagner found her, Tiffany scurried off fast to grab towels and her coat and flee back to the lockers through the hotel’s maintenance corridors. She always kept a few spare changes of clothes. In her line of work, you never knew what type of horrible things might happen to your plain clothes or your uniform. Now, she was grateful for being cautious. It would have been worse to be dressed down while wearing her birthday suit, something completely unthinkable. It was bad enough in jeans and a spare sweater.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“It was wrong, and I wish I could explain it. I got some bad news from home, and I just…I made a mistake,” she trailed off lamely, a blush rioting across her cheeks. How could she ever tell anyone what had happened? How could she find another job now?
“Well, Miss Saunders, that’s not good enough. You’re dismissed and don’t even think of trying to get a job in the hospitality business anywhere else, at least not in Europe. Your reputation is done here. I suggest you go back to the States. Maybe they take kindly to these things in America, but we certainly don’t here.”
“I know.”
“Now, Miss Saunders, get off the property before I have someone escort you out.”
***
Tears streamed down her face the entire ride home, and her chest ached with unfulfilled sobs. Tiffany was trying to keep any semblance of herself together after the worst, most unexpected, and somehow still most thrilling night of her life. She didn’t recognize herself, what she did, the level of mistake she’d made. It was a good thing she had a logical excuse to return home, and that no one in the United States would ever have to hear about what happened, even if she could
definitely kiss her best reference goodbye.
It had all happened so fast that she had rushed off to face her supervisor’s wrath and lost track of Sirhan. That burned even worse. As she was sobering up and the harsh light of her actions was hitting her, she wondered if Sirhan’s promise of helping to pay for her father’s treatment had all be pretty words.
“God, what an idiot I am,” she said as she walked up the two flights of stairs to the chalet-style apartment she shared with Greta.
When she walked through the door, her friend wrapped her up in a huge hug. “Are you all right?”
“How did you know?”
Greta pushed a long lock of blonde hair back from her face. “I was texted about ten times by ten different friends at the hotel. Everything spreads like wild fire there.”
Tiffany pulled back from her friend and groaned. “Oh, Christ, then I’m really glad I’m thousands of miles from home. I’d never live this down otherwise.”
“You can’t leave.”
“I’m pretty sure no other resort is going to have me,” she said, crossing into her bedroom and grabbing her suitcase.
She didn’t have many things, especially since she loved to travel so much, but she would still have to prepare a modest sized box to ship home with her favorite trinkets from the Alps. The tears hit her harder when she picked up the golden cow bell at the end of a long red velour strip. It was a favorite cheesy souvenir favored at airports, and one of the first things she bought when she came to Switzerland. It would go home with her on the plane.
Greta’s hand was on her shoulder. “This whole thing isn’t like you, and I know you didn’t hear back from your parents yet…” Tiffany watched a wave of realization wash over Greta’s face as she trailed off, “...At least not when I last spoke to you, so now I know exactly what happened.”
“So what happened, then?” Tiffany asked, her voice taking on an accusatory pitch she loathed. Greta was her friend, and she was trying to understand everything. Except maybe there was nothing to explain. “Do you want to psychoanalyze me?”
“No, but I’m worried it was bad news about your father.”
She wiped at her eyes and set the little bell down. “Let’s put it this way: I’d have had to come home anyway. There was no way I could have stayed. There was no way I could be here when he’s in chemo, if we can even afford it.”
There was a knock at their door, and they frowned at each other. A few of the other staff lived in the apartment complex. It was possible a few gossip-hungry coworkers were coming over to see if everything they heard was true. Greta must have figured the same thing because she patted Tiffany’s shoulder and rushed off to the front door, a determined look etched like granite onto her face.
As few moments later, she called out, her voice oddly strained, for Tiffany. “I think you have a visitor.”
“I can’t see anyone right now.”
“I think you’ll want to see this one.”
Confused, Tiffany stepped away from her bed and rushed back to their modest front room. Her jaw dropped when she found Sheikh Sirhan Hakim standing there in a well-cut pair of trousers and a plain, charcoal grey silk shirt. His jade eyes studied her as if she were a bug under the microscope, and she tried to hope the scrutiny was a good thing. After all, why else would he be tracking her down?
“You’re here?”
He reached out and put his hands on both of her shoulders. “Tiger, of course. I just needed to clean up, and then Ibrahim and I figured out where you lived.”
“How did you do that?”
“I have an entire army and security agency at my disposal, but to be honest I bribed a bellhop. I was worried about you, but was hardly in a state to follow you into the meeting with your boss. By the time I was dressed you’d fled.”
“I’m not exactly ‘employed’ anymore.”
Beside them, Greta crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him, her protective nature surfacing. “You didn’t exactly help with that.”
“Ma’am…”
“Greta. And you probably think it was fun to lead my friend on, but she needed this job.”
“I know, and that’s why I’m trying to make it right,” Sirhan said. “Please, Greta, can I have a few minutes with Tiffany?”
Greta eyed them both and then nodded stiffly. “Five minutes, but if you need anything, Tif, just call and I’ll be right there.”
Sirhan shook his head when her roommate was gone. “She’s intense.”
“She’s worried about me, and I can’t say that I blame her. I’ve gone crazy in the last few hours. It’s not your fault. It’s totally mine, but I think I need to go home. Clearly, I’m going nuts.”
He stroked her cheek and, even after everything, that warmth and attraction thrummed strongly between them. She shuddered at his touch and wanted desperately to make their situations different, to make her anything other than the maid he just met, to make their affair more permissible.
Then again, she wasn’t a maid anymore, was she?
“I was being honest about your father’s treatment. It’s the reason I tracked you down. I’ll move to a different hotel and we can discuss the details at dinner in town tomorrow if you wish. I have an idea, as well.”
She blushed and shook her head. “I jumped so hard into whatever this is. I’m not usually easy.”
“I didn’t say you were, and the other idea I had wasn’t about sex.”
“It wasn’t?” her voice was quiet, and she hoped she didn’t come off as disappointed. She wasn’t after all. It was too much. Sirhan was like a whirlwind, and, even if she’d only known him a couple days, she already knew it was too easy to be swept up by him. “I thought you were always about that, that whole debonair sheikh image?”
“I care about you, and I can’t say that I don’t love brining you pleasure, but I should have refused, too. I should have given you the space you need when you were hurting. Now, I’m trying to make up for what I’ve ruined. Please, would you like to work for me and for the palace? We could always use an experienced housekeeper to add to the staff. We have over one hundred rooms, and I don’t think even now I’ve seen half of them.”
Her eyes grew wide, confused by the offer. “You’re giving me a job?”
“If you wish to go home, I understand, but if you want to have a job in Dubaya with five times your old salary, then the job is yours on top of your father’s treatment.”
“I need to see him.” She stopped, and thought about her father’s stubbornness and how he was so desperate for her to carry on her normal life, even if she had no idea what that was anymore. She’d get to Chicago, and he would hem and haw with her extra attention for about a week before he sent her home. She’d have to be there when the therapy made him too weak for her mom to deal with but, until then, he would need to wrap his pride around everything. He was already going to blow his top when he figured out she found a way to cover his treatment.
Charlie Saunders was a man of pride and principle.
If she showed up this fast with a golden ticket in hand and in person, his pride would take a huge hit and he may refuse the generous gift she was offering by way of Sirhan. That couldn’t be allowed. She would be damned if she was going to let his manly stubbornness get in the way of his health.
“I can come back for a while, but I’ll have to be allowed to commute when my dad starts treatment. He’s not one to take a bunch of gifts at once. He’s so stubborn!”
Sirhan laughed and nodded back at her. “I know the feeling. Then, my Tiger, you’ll come back to Dubaya and work for me?”
“…Is that all you want from me?”
He stilled and shook his head. “I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t love making you hit the heights of pleasure. I don’t regret making you happy, only regret that it caused so much pain too. But if you’re mad at me, I understand. I’m offering this to make things right.”
“Five times more?”
“You arguing me
up to six?” he asked, arching an eyebrow wryly back at her.
“No, you don’t understand. That’s so much.”
“I can cover it. Make it six times whatever the hotel paid you. I know you’re worth it. No strings, no expectations, and I’ll fly you home as much as you need to see your father. I insist.”
“You couldn’t keep me from him.”
“So, my Tiger? Do we have a deal?”
She stepped back and then held out her hand for him. “We do, and thank you!”
Chapter Five
The palace loomed up before her as the private limo Sirhan hired drove her up to its gates. It towered over the surrounding skyline of the capital city of Dubaya like a star in the night sky, its spires twisting into rounded domes like something out of Disney’s Aladdin. Her jaw dropped at the sight of all of it, and she couldn’t believe how fast her life had changed from the cold winds of Switzerland to the hot, arid desert air of this current sheikdom in only a week.
Sirhan had gone on ahead to prepare for her arrival and to help her set up all the treatment details for her father. They came up with a cover story to tell her mother, that an angel benefactor, a fan of Charlie Saunders’s work from The Tribune, had stepped forward to cover treatment. It was one thing to play to flattery, but another to try and get her father to accept charity outright.
If that’s what all this truly was. Yes, they’d connected over the death of his mother and her father’s illness. Yes, Sirhan had given her an incredible job opportunity and a salary she could only dream of. It was still too much. Despite everything and how badly events had ended at The Cambrian, this current change in her fortunes felt overwhelming, as if far too much would be expected of her. She wasn’t sure what Sirhan wanted. Hell, she barely understood the passion burning between them, that mutual release that felt stronger and more powerful than both of them combined.
Did he expect her to be a kept woman? Did she want that?
Tiffany wasn’t sure of any of that, and she was left even more confused when the limo driver opened the door and revealed a small, wizened woman who had to be in her mid-sixties to Tiffany. The older woman had a kind smile and eyes that seemed to see beyond their years. She widened her grin when Tiffany made eye contact with her.
