Ruling Sheikh, Unruly Mistress

by Susan Stephens

  Then Mac entered the room. Conversation dropped. Her heart stopped. He’d just showered; his hair was still damp. He looked amazing. Her insides clenched, relaxed, yearned.

  A look passed between them. It was nothing more than that—a look—but it made her thrill. It made everything perfect. She had vowed to behave with reserve and professionalism, but the look they had exchanged changed everything—and they had the rest of the week together…

  Her heart was pounding with excitement as she poured coffee. ‘Can I get anything else for you?’ she asked the men around the table.

  ‘Lucy has to get away,’ Mac informed the group. ‘She has an important appointment on the slopes this morning.’

  Her heart bounced as Mac looked at her. He was going to take her skiing!

  ‘Abu and Omar will clear up,’ he said, dictating events. ‘You’d better hurry up, Lucy.’ His eyes were glinting with humour that only she saw. ‘See you later,’ he said casually to her.

  ‘Yes, see you later,’ she replied, tugging off her apron.

  See you later. There was a world of promise contained in those three words and her spirits were soaring as she left the room. See you later cleared the mist on her immediate future another day with Mac.

  He blazed into the restaurant. Customers halted with soup spoons halfway to their mouths to stare at the impossibly glamorous man who had just walked in in a storm of testosterone and muscle. Lucy knew the owner of the cosy mountain retreat and had been helping out by doing a little serving while she was waiting for Mac, but now she stopped as Mac, oblivious to everyone staring at him, headed straight for her. ‘Ready?’ he said, flashing a glance at the chef who poked his head round the door.

  With arousal thundering through her she was already by his side, waving goodbye to the owner.

  ‘Do you really need to moonlight?’ Mac demanded, ushering her towards the pegs where her jacket was hanging and her ski boots were stacked. ‘Doesn’t the chalet company pay you enough?’

  ‘It’s not strictly moonlighting as I don’t get paid for working here.’

  ‘You do enough already,’ he said, frowning as he held the door for her.

  ‘The owner’s a friend.’

  ‘You let people take advantage of your good nature.’

  ‘I’m fine with it, Mac. Honestly, I’m no pushover.’

  The humour in his slanted glance made her blush.

  They skied down from the restaurant to the first lift. Mac was every bit as good as she thought he’d be—far faster and more confident than she would ever be. She tried to keep up with him and then found it hard to stop. It was quite a collision, but Mac caught her in his arms and didn’t even lose his balance slightly. ‘Speed demon,’ he commented wryly. ‘I can see we’re going to have some fun.’

  Taking in his athletic form, dressed in the latest closefitting performance gear, Lucy decided that was mainly what she was afraid of.

  For the first time that season she managed to catch a tip and fall off the lift as she got off—or she would have done had Mac’s awareness and reflexes not been lightning fast. Catching hold of her, he steadied her before she could suffer the ignominy of holding everyone up. ‘It happens all the time,’ he reassured her. ‘Even Tom took a tumble yesterday.’

  But there wasn’t even a bump in the snow here and she could only blame Mac for distracting her—Mac who was so utterly gorgeous everyone was staring at him to the point where she couldn’t understand why he wanted to be with her. Even though they’d slept together it wasn’t exactly a holiday romance.

  No, it was something more precious than that, she mused contentedly.

  ‘Shall I lead, or would you like to?’ he said, snapping her out of the daydream.

  ‘You’d better lead and wait for me at the bottom—I can’t ski as well as you.’ She doubted few people could.

  Mac stared at her, the customary amusement missing from his face. ‘I wouldn’t dream of leaving you—I’ll ride shotgun. Off you go,’ he prompted. As he spoke the clouds parted and the sun streamed down, illuminating his face almost as a Hollywood director would reserve the special lighting for the star, Lucy thought, dazzled for a moment.

  ‘Come on, let’s get moving. The sun might be shining, but it isn’t the desert,’ he pointed out.

  She laughed too. They were as far away from the desert as she could imagine. But as she was about to start off Mac caught hold of her arm. ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ he said. ‘Take off your skis.’

  ‘What?’ She looked at him in surprise. ‘You are joking?’

  ‘I’m perfectly serious. I’ll put them in the rack and arrange for them to be collected.’

  ‘And what do I do—slither down the slope on my backside?’ It might be faster, Lucy conceded as several people turned to stare at her in amusement.

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’ Mac murmured, holding her gaze until she blushed.

  ‘You know I do.’

  He was remembering how his brother, Ra’id, had done this for him once—though under very different circumstances. He’d been about ten years old, and on his first trip to a ski resort. Eager to show his big brother he could keep up with him, he’d watched Ra’id take the lift up the glacier and had followed him. Ra’id’s instincts had saved his life. Sensing his foolish little brother was in trouble on the slope behind him, Ra’id had made a dangerous ascent of a perilous incline to rescue him. The weather had closed in, and it had taken Ra’id almost an hour in blizzard conditions to reach the snow bridge where Razi had been stranded. Even then Ra’id had been all patience, all control. He had checked for injuries, before taking him slowly down the slope to safety, as he would now take Lucy under much happier conditions. ‘Take your skis off,’ he prompted, seeing Lucy was still hesitating. Taking matters out of her hands, he snapped her bindings open so the skis fell away and she had no choice but to step out of them. He put her skis in the rack by the side of the slope and then beckoned to her. ‘Stand on mine.’

  ‘Now I know you’re joking.’

  His stare didn’t waver. ‘Come on, my skis are stronger than you know. Come in front of me and rest against me…Closer…Yes, that’s right…Lean right into me.’

  Was she really doing this?

  ‘Relax, Lucy. Let me do all the work. I’m going to show you what living in the fast lane is like.’

  ‘Please don’t,’ she said, suddenly anxious on a number of fronts. She’d broken so many of her own rules over the past few days—skiing fast might seem the least of them, but once again she was entirely in Mac’s hands.

  And that was something new?

  Maybe she had invested so much in her feelings for him already she was frightened to invest more…

  ‘I promise you—it’s exciting.’

  She was tempted. She stared round at him. Exciting? Had Mac got the slightest idea how exciting her life had become since they’d met? She guessed not.

  He nuzzled his face close so now they were sharing the same sparkling champagne air. ‘Don’t be frightened,’ he whispered.

  She heard the smile in his voice and tried to relax.

  ‘I’m going to take you places you’ve never been before, and show you what travelling at speed through the mountains should feel like.’ With that he tipped her over the edge of the slope and they were off. She shrieked as her stomach flipped. ‘Relax,’ Mac yelled, tightening his grip on her. ‘I won’t let you fall.’

  They started to build up speed and it gave him a buzz to know Lucy was gaining in confidence with every yard they travelled. Had Ra’id felt like this? That it wasn’t so much an inconvenience taking someone he cared for down the slope, but a sacred trust? ‘Feeling safer now?’ he demanded as they cruised some flatter ground.

  ‘Thanks to you.’

  He tried to remember when he’d had so much fun outside the bedroom. Fun was in short supply when women had one eye on his throne and the other on his fortune, and anyway, he had no time to invest in relationships. He felt a hit
of anger and frustration at the thought that this trip to the Alps would soon be over. He’d enjoyed keeping Lucy safe—perhaps more than he should have done.

  Mac had asked her if she felt safe. She was safe. He kept her safe. With Mac’s arms around her and his body moulded tightly to hers, she wasn’t skiing, she was flying.

  Mac’s arms were firm around her waist and his warm breath was on her neck as he steered her down the slope. She’d only felt closer to him when they’d been making love. As Mac took her into a wide, sweeping turn she even wondered if this was the most erotic experience of her life—out in daylight where everyone could see them moving as one, breathing as one—her body welded to his—feeling his muscles working and hers respond.

  The steep descent to the village was over all too soon, and as Mac skied to a halt Lucy realised people were staring at them. Women were smiling; some of them enviously, but all of them a little dreamy-eyed at the most romantic sight they’d seen that day. She was sorry it had ended and wished they could start over when Mac nudged her off his skis.

  ‘So—did I convince you?’ he demanded, lifting off his helmet and ruffling his thick, wavy black hair. ‘That skiing fast is great?’ he prompted, dipping his head to stare at her.

  Had it only been an adrenalin rush for Mac? With the sudden blinding force of understanding she knew the warm, pulsing effects of what had been a night of love for her had been sex for him. Mac was everything she wanted and more—and could never have. He was enjoying a brief affair—she had fallen in love.

  ‘I’ll take you back,’ he said, shouldering his skis.

  ‘Don’t you want to meet up with your friends?’ She wanted to give him an out and herself space and time to think.

  Mac looked at her and frowned, his lips pressing down in his habitual amused expression. ‘We’re big boys now,’ he said, catching hold of her with his free arm. ‘Come on,’ he insisted, linking arms with her. ‘It’s time for an early bath.’

  And the rest…?

  Lucy’s heart bounced with joy as Mac put his arms around her and drew her close. She put her arm around him too, like any other couple in the resort, telling herself she worried too much. Maybe.

  The rush of being in the mountains, the sheer glory of the scenery and the indescribable joy of being with Mac had left Lucy on the highest peak of the highest high.

  ‘You feel the charge too—don’t you?’ Mac challenged, nuzzling her cheek as they strode along.

  ‘Maybe,’ she admitted playfully, trying and failing to keep the smile off her face.

  ‘You do,’ he said confidently.

  There was a sense of urgency to their stride—they weren’t running exactly, but it was purposeful and heading one place fast. The urge to be together, to be even closer than they’d been on the mountain, had infused both of them with unusual energy. Lucy felt like the most alive person on the planet—sight keener, hearing so acute her own heartbeat was hammering in her ears like a kettledrum, while the scent of Mac, deliciously spicy, clean and warm, filled every part of her with happy anticipation. It was as if every sense she possessed was keenly tuned to Mac’s extraordinary energy levels. Surely everyone knew…They were attracting glances, as if the sexual bond that joined them was a palpable thing. She glanced up at Mac and saw the set of his jaw, the faint tug of his lips, and the look of absolute focus in his eyes. When Mac wanted something he radiated determination. No wonder people were staring at them. Knowing what he wanted—suspecting other people knew about it too—aroused her shamelessly. She wanted to feel like a sexual being, to be desired, to be…necessary.

  ‘We’re here,’ she said a little self-consciously when they reached the chalet.

  ‘What do you know,’ Mac teased, opening the door. His eyes were wicked as he stood back to let her inside.

  He shut the door behind them and suddenly all the energy that had spread in all directions was cooped up in one small space. The air crackled with electricity, though both of them suddenly took to acting as if it were a normal day. Tension simmered as they shed their boots, took off their jackets and hung them up. They walked upstairs almost at a leisurely pace, as if their feelings towards each other had been mastered. But it was an illusion, and without needing to say a word they both knew it. The sexual cord between them had never been stretched so far or so thin—the explosion had to come. Even the air they breathed seemed saturated with particles of lust that only added to Lucy’s arousal.

  ‘We’re alone,’ Mac murmured when they reached the landing.

  ‘So we are,’ she said, wondering if they had time to reach the bedroom.

  Mac acted decisively. ‘Kitchen,’ he husked, backing her down the hall.

  ‘What if someone comes?’

  He grinned. ‘Someone will.’

  By the time he’d shut the door behind them her top was on the floor. One stroke of his hands and her briefs were round her ankles. He freed himself and lifted her, practically in the same moment.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she gasped, clinging to him as he plunged deep.

  Mac stretched her beyond anything she once would have thought possible. The feeling was so far beyond pleasure that to begin with she could only let him take her with firm, deep strokes, while she did nothing but enjoy, but then the urgent need for release overcame her, made her fierce, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, shouting his name and rocking furiously while Mac pressed back against the door to support her weight. He was hers to please and enjoy. No one could get into the room while she had her legs locked around his waist, and she was beyond caring what anyone heard. They were both brutally aroused, and from here it was a short, fast ride to pleasure and oblivion.

  Chapter Eight

  HE LEFT Lucy to take her shower. He kissed her outside her room, brushing silky strands of hair away from her flushed face. For a moment when he released her her eyes were bright with hope, but then she understood. Pressing her lips together, she quietly left him.

  He’d stood outside her closed door without moving before taking the stairs two at a time to his own apartment on the top floor. There was no point in wishing things could be different when he was chained to destiny.

  Lucy had set the tradition for canapés and an aperitif before dinner. He settled for a coffee and a croissant in town. He chose an anonymous café none of his friends frequented. He needed space. He needed time to think, but whichever way he played it one thing was non-negotiable. He had to make a clean break from everything in his past in order to give his future to Isla de Sinnebar. He shouldn’t be thinking about Lucy at all, let alone thinking about her in terms of taking her with him—

  Forget it!

  He pushed his chair back so violently the other customers turned to stare. He paid the bill and clattered outside in his ski boots to harness himself first to his skis and then to the challenge of the mountains where no troubling personal thoughts could intrude.

  But they would.

  Lucy already meant more to him than he, in fairness to her, could tell her. She always would. She had won his heart in no time flat, and when it came to things he had to give up to be the type of leader he intended to be, she was turning out to be the biggest sacrifice of all.

  She was back in uniform, having showered, dressed and cooked dinner. Tom had asked her to hold everything for an hour as Mac had gone out again to ski. That news only added to everything Mac hadn’t said to her outside her room. Fast sex was all part of his race to the finish. She could sense the fact that Mac would be leaving soon, though he was chatting to his friends now he was back as if an aperitif of hot, heavenly sex was an everyday occurrence for him.

  Perhaps it was, Lucy reflected, handing round the canapés. Perhaps she was the one who needed a reality check to see those looks he kept flashing her way were just that—concerned looks. He didn’t want her burning dinner, after all.

  The meal was a triumph, the group of men told her, and now they were going out skiing on the floodlit slopes while she cleared up. ‘Have
a good time,’ she called after them. ‘Breakfast at seven?’ she confirmed with Mac, acting bright and businesslike as if she weren’t hoping for some words of reassurance long before then. He’d changed into jeans, boots and a hooded sweater after taking a shower and looked hot beyond belief, making the gulf between them unbridgeable and herself a fantasist for even imagining it could be any different.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help you clear up?’

  She did a double take, while his friends laughed goodnaturedly as if this was the most hilarious suggestion Mac had ever made. ‘Thank you, I’m good,’ she said, smiling a casual smile as if there were nothing between them.

  She thought Mac’s look was almost one of disappointment, but then he flashed a glance at his watch and his expression firmed up. ‘We’d better get going,’ he announced to his friends. ‘Time’s running out.’

  She shivered inwardly as Theo clapped a hand round Mac’s shoulders as if he understood. They all understood—while, for all her intimacy with Mac, she knew nothing about his private life. ‘Have a good night,’ she said on autopilot, keeping her smile in place until Mac led the men out of the room.

  But then her smile faded. She felt sick, weak, foolish and the rest. Someone should have warned her how much love hurt—she’d have been more careful to avoid it. But she could hardly blame Mac for wanting to ski with his friends when the slopes were floodlit for the torchlit procession down the mountain to the village. Skiing was what he was here for, after all. He was hardly going to stay behind on one of the best nights of the year to help her clean the chalet. Plucking a clean cloth from the drawer, she set to. However many knocks life threw at her she was going to bounce back and start over. The next stage would be to forget him.