Under the Sheik's Protection

by C. J. Miller

  The lean strength of his body indicated he must work out. Probably had a personal trainer or a gym in his house. She was no fan of exercise, but to keep up with him, she could be talked into it. She ran her hand down his chest where a long scar reached from his shoulder to his abdomen. A tight, muscled abdomen.

  “What happened here?” she asked, tracing the line with her finger.

  “Military training injury from my youth,” he said.

  A military man? He had the body for it. Her curiosity about him heightened. He had a tattoo on his biceps.

  “What is this?” she asked, tracing the small dragon.

  “Another remnant of my time in the military,” he said. Sarah wondered about it and sensed it had deep, personal meaning to him.

  He set his hands on her sides and inhaled, letting out his breath slowly. “Is this moving too fast?”

  She shook her head. Fast was good. She was afraid reality would catch up to her and she would realize some great flaw in her plan to sleep with this man. They would be safe about it and she would preserve her heart. She wasn’t a virgin. She knew the mechanics of sex and how easy it was for a woman to fall for a man once she’d slept with him. But that wasn’t what this was about.

  Barr hadn’t lied to her about what he could offer or made promises about the future. He was traveling from some place halfway around the world. This was about tonight and making each other feel amazing. As turned on as she already was, she knew this would be incredible.

  He slid her panties down her legs and tossed them over his shoulder. He reached under her and with a snap of his fingers, undid her bra. It came free and he rid her of that, too.

  He pulled a foil packet from the bedside table, opened it and rolled it on. “To make sure you are safe,” he said.

  Despite the preparation, he didn’t rush to push inside her. His mouth explored her body and his hands worshipped every inch of her.

  It was her that wanted more, faster. “Please, Barr, please hurry.”

  He laughed low in his throat. “I want to take my time with you. Every moment is already too fleeting and precious.”

  His mouth dropped to hers in a long, lingering kiss. His lips trailed south along her body to her breasts. He took them in his hands, using great care with her, sucking each pert tip into his mouth. As he slowly explored her, she strained against him.

  She lifted her hips in invitation and then clasped both sides of his face. She wanted to feel him moving inside her. Making her wait was driving her wild with lust. “Please.”

  Surrender in his eyes. He wanted this to be good for her, but he couldn’t say no to her plea. He tilted her chin to look at him. Their eyes locked and then he came into her. She was on the brink of release and went off the moment he was inside her. Mind-blowing, soul-shaking tremors rocked through her.

  He stilled as her climax eased. She was embarrassed by her quick finale, but Barr didn’t give her a chance to apologize or explain. He kissed her and then began moving again, long, slow glides of his body inside hers.

  She accepted him as part of her, meeting his thrusts and undulating her hips. More. Longer.

  Only when she came apart again in his arms did he crash with her in a tangle of limbs, panting breaths and racing hearts. The room was utterly still and quiet. The crisp sheets were now tangled and damp, the pillows in disarray. The single bedside light in the room cast a glow across Barr’s face, illuminating again how handsome he was.

  She had a hard time believing this had happened. It was so unlike her to meet someone and have an instant connection with him, but it had been so great, she didn’t have room for worries. Sarah accepted the night and Barr for the gifts they were. After the last several years, she figured the universe owed her some good luck.

  Barr didn’t speak, though his breathing was deep and still and his eyes were closed.

  What now? Did she get up and leave? Thank him? Wish him well?

  He was still inside her and she was thinking of an exit strategy. Not because she was eager to leave. Sex with Barr was the best she’d had in recent history. Well, he was the only man she’d slept with in recent history. She didn’t want to overstay her welcome or worse, mar the night by him asking her to leave. Sarah wanted to walk out of this room on her terms, her head held high. She shifted, extracting his body from hers.

  “What are you thinking?” Barr asked, running a hand down her hair.

  “Nothing much. Just going over my agenda for tomorrow.” A lie. She was watching him and he had every ounce of her attention.

  He laughed and opened one eye. “That stings a bit. I hoped you were basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking.”

  What man called it lovemaking? This was most assuredly a fantasy. Was she asleep? “I’m not sure what I need to do now.” She wished she had said something smoother and practiced, some witty response to his comment or to allude she was more worldly and confident than she was.

  “You don’t need to do anything except tell me what you’d like to eat or drink or if I can get you anything. And then you lie here with me and let me take care of you and hold you.”

  He’d confirmed it. This was make-believe to the nth degree.

  “I’m not hungry really,” she said.

  “If I didn’t exhaust you, at least a little, that means I didn’t do it right. Give me an hour and I’ll try again.”

  She laughed. “You did everything very, very right.” She kissed his forehead. She lay in his arms for a few minutes and closed her eyes.

  The phone on the bedside table rang. “I need to answer that.” He pulled away from her slowly and picked up the phone.

  Was this his exit strategy? Tell her to stay, give her the royal treatment and have one of his associates call with an emergency. She refused to think about how many times he had done this before.

  She hated to be made a fool of, so she stood and searched for her underwear and dress. She was still wearing her shoes. She refused to let her awkwardness post-sex ruin the memory. That she was holding close and preserving.

  He was speaking into the phone in another language and he sent her a questioning look. He hadn’t dressed, nor had he made any attempt to cover himself. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of. He was the most ripped man she had ever seen naked in real life.

  Barr shook his head, one corner of his mouth lifted and he pointed to the bed. He wrapped up the call quickly, never taking his eyes off her.

  “Please don’t leave so soon,” he said, sincerity in his voice.

  How could she say no to that? If he’d wanted her to leave, he hadn’t needed to stop her. “I’ll stay. For a little while.”

  She returned to the bed and he pulled her into the crook of his arms and held her. Sarah rested her head against his shoulder and found sleep tugging at her. She’d rest for a few minutes and then she would say goodbye.

  * * *

  Saafir cursed inwardly. Sarah Parker. Her name was Sarah Parker and she was the event coordinator for his trip while he was working with the Americans on the trade agreement.

  It had been Adham who had encouraged him to take the night off and enjoy some time in an American bar. As one of his last weekends as an unattached man, Saafir would forget his responsibilities for an evening. Adham had implied it would do Saafir good to have a fling with a woman. Flings were more complicated than the word implied and Saafir had learned to be careful both with a woman’s heart and with jumping into bed with her. Saafir hadn’t been sold on the idea until he’d seen Sarah, spoken to her and listened to the warmth in her voice. Her dress fit close to her body, showing off her curves, the right amount of softness and strength. They’d had a sense of connection, that rightness that came when two people clicked on a level beyond first impressions. Something primal had stirred in him and he’d known he’d needed to have Sarah in hi
s bed.

  Having a drink and a meal in the bar had been a last-minute decision, like many of his social plans. Last-minute didn’t allow for security preparation, but it also limited anyone knowing where he was scheduled to be and using that information to plot an assassination. Though he didn’t like it, he had to think in those terms to protect his life.

  Though Saafir had told Adham not to, Adham had dug around and found out more about the woman who had approached him in the bar. Saafir would have connected who she was when she’d shown up at their meeting Monday morning.

  Did she not know who he was? The Americans wouldn’t try to manipulate him in such an obvious way. No one could have predicted the chemistry he had with Sarah. No one could have known he would desire her as strongly as he did. Even holding her in his arms a few minutes after sleeping with her turned him on.

  Her long brown hair hung over his arm and her skin was soft against his. She was different from the women in his country, no less sophisticated or beautiful, but more free and uninhibited. She hadn’t waited for him to take the lead on their meeting or remained passive when they were alone in this hotel room. Fire and passion simmered inside her and Saafir wanted to be close enough to share her heat.

  If it was a setup, he would have expected an Arabic woman or someone who spoke his native language. Still, he’d never had this combustible attraction with a woman before and he wondered if any part of their relationship had been architected. She hadn’t been the first woman to approach him in the bar, but she was the first woman who he’d been interested in talking with.

  “You never said what you did for a living,” he said. A test. Would she lie?

  “I’m an event coordinator,” she said, sleep heavy in her voice.

  Was she evading his question? He didn’t detect anything in her voice. He didn’t want their connection to have been a fraud. He wanted her to like him for him. The thought was desperate, perhaps a remnant of the relationship he had wanted before becoming the emir. “Do you focus on certain types of events?”

  Sarah yawned and rolled over to face him. She opened her eyes and he was caught by the shades of brown in her irises, flecks the color of sand and of cedar.

  “Do you really want to hear about this? Most people find what I do boring. Unless it’s a bride and it’s her wedding. Those conversations last well over an hour.”

  He found nothing about her boring. But if she was here to pry information from him, he wanted to know it now. “Tell me about it. I bet I won’t find it boring.”

  She tilted her head up to look at him and brushed some of her long brown hair away from her face. “I started my business about four years ago. It’s still small, but we’re growing every year. I take any contracts I think I can do well. I’ve done dog birthday parties, a Pi Day event and a divorce party where the client wanted every menu item to include strawberries, which her ex had been allergic to.”

  Saafir laughed.

  Sarah drummed her fingers on his chest. “I’ve done some charity events to raise money for a local substance abuse support group.” She brought her hand to her mouth in thought. “I’ve turned away a few elaborate weddings, but I did take an important contract recently. If it goes well, it will be great to have on my resume for other jobs. It’s already been a wild experience.”

  She must be referring to the trade summit contract. “What was the contracted event?” he pressed. He could have dropped his line of questioning, but he wanted to know if this was a happy coincidence that they’d met and not that she was a spy. He expected a spy to lie, flat out and without so much as a blink.

  Sarah shifted, appearing uncomfortable. “I’ve been asked to keep the details private. It’s an important client.”

  Unless she was a world-class liar who could lie even while naked, she didn’t know he was the important client.

  Saafir couldn’t stand the thought of her showing up with breakfast Monday morning and realizing he was the emir of Qamsar. Being fastidious about security, Adham had booked this hotel under Saafir’s mother’s maiden name, Barr, the name Saafir used when he wasn’t representing himself as the emir, two days earlier than he was expected to arrive in the United States.

  “Is your client someone famous?” he asked, wondering how trustworthy she was. He hated testing her. If she admitted something, it was akin to entrapment.

  “I can’t discuss that,” she said, her tone serious. She slid her leg off him and he grabbed her thigh.

  He didn’t want to lose the closeness and his questions were making her uncomfortable.

  He gave her credit for integrity and discretion in not revealing his name. Another woman might have bragged about the connection or caved under the pressure and given away more about the event.

  “This is Washington, D.C. You have me thinking it’s someone infamous,” Saafir said.

  Sarah laughed. “Isn’t everyone in D.C. infamous?”

  Saafir smiled, pleased she hadn’t given away any details of the contract. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He would tell her in the morning who he was and hope she forgave him.

  * * *

  Sarah was walking on air as she entered her apartment building and tiptoed up the stairs. She didn’t want to risk the neighbors complaining about the early morning disturbance. The sun had begun to rise and though she’d had little sleep, she wasn’t tired.

  For the first time in months, she’d had fun. She was awake and alive and she’d had a wonderful time with a man. A handsome man who had treated her like a queen. His sexual appetite had been insatiable and she’d been as surprised about her response to him. She’d wanted him as much and as often as he’d wanted her. It had been the best birthday she’d had in years. Maybe this was the beginning of a new chapter in her life.

  When she told Krista and Molly about the night, she felt confident she had done everything right. She hadn’t lingered too long or created an awkward morning situation. A quick kiss on his forehead and she’d dressed and bolted.

  She pulled her keys out of her handbag and froze when she found the door ajar. Had she forgotten to pull it closed behind her? Another more distressing thought raced through her mind. Alec had bailed on rehab and had broken into her home. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  Sarah pushed open the door and turned on the light, expecting to find her ex-husband passed out on the floor.

  If Alec had been here, he had been in a rage. Her home was destroyed. The stuffing from her couch was bursting from the cushions, papers were strewn across the floor and dishes and glasses were smashed on the ground. Her granite countertops were scratched and chipped. Red spray paint covered her furniture and the carpet. A nasty word was scrawled across the wall in blinding orange.

  A sob caught in her throat. She didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t turn away, either. Who had done this? Another thought tripped her shock into fear. The person who had done this could still be inside.

  Why would someone do this? She had nothing worth stealing, except maybe her computer, a five-year-old laptop she used for work. Her jobs! She would be lost without her lists and spreadsheets. Had they been destroyed, as well?

  Torn between wanting to run inside and to run away, she hesitated for a moment. But then logic prevailed and she rushed out of her apartment and down to the street level. Fumbling for her phone, she took four tries to dial 9-1-1.

  Chapter 2

  Sarah held her cell phone and listened to the caterer apologize for the tenth time. She didn’t need to apologize. She needed to get to the meeting so Sarah would have the breakfast spread ready when the trade committee arrived.

  Months of preparing and rechecking and confirming—and yet the meeting room was in a state of chaos. She blamed whoever had ransacked her apartment. She had located some of her printed documents on the event, but some were missing in the mess. Her laptop had
been smashed. It was with a computer repair and data recovery company, but they’d told her it was unlikely they’d recover anything since the hard drive had been removed and mangled.

  Alec’s whereabouts had been confirmed as still in the rehab facility, and Sarah felt guilty for suspecting that he could have vandalized her place. Holding him accountable for her problems wasn’t fair. She had to take responsibility for the successes and failures in her life. The way the day was shaping up, the first meeting would be a big check in the fail column. She couldn’t let Owen down. He’d stuck his neck out getting her this job.

  Without the benefit of her notes, Sarah was relying on memory for the event details. She’d decided to temporarily stay with Molly who had helped her reconstruct what she could remember. Sarah was missing huge chunks of information that would be needed at the worst possible time. This was the biggest event she had ever planned: a week-long series of meetings, hotel accommodations, meals and entertainment.

  Her resume-boosting event was quickly turning into a reputation smasher.

  Sarah needed to stay unemotional and think on her feet. Handling a late caterer went with the territory. Could she find a local donut shop and buy some hold-over food? Getting off on the right foot with the trade agreement committee—in other words, having something to serve more than coffee and tea—was crucial.

  “My GPS says I’ll be there in ten minutes,” the caterer said.

  In D.C. morning traffic, that meant thirty. Sarah reminded herself that losing it on the caterer wouldn’t make the food arrive faster. “Come directly to the back entrance. I’ll meet you there.”

  Sarah disconnected her call. After sending someone to buy muffins and donuts at a nearby shop, Sarah turned her attention to the meeting room.

  Owen, the chairman of the committee, had arrived and was sitting at the end of the conference table, his leather binder open in front of him. Happy to see a familiar face, Sarah hurried to greet him.