Fit for a Sheikh

by Kristi Gold

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest as if they had all the time in the world. “Tell me, did you find that man at the table to your liking?”

  She exhaled an impatient sigh. “Not that again.”

  “He seemed quite taken with you.”

  “He only wanted someone to toss his dice for luck.”

  “He wanted to toss you into his bed.”

  She shrugged. “So what? I wasn’t going to go anywhere with him.”

  “I am pleased to hear that. I doubt he could adequately satisfy you.”

  Oh, but Scorpio could. Fiona was well aware of that. And darned, she wanted him to satisfy her and soon—ridiculous, considering she should be irate. “We can talk about this in the suite.”

  “I do not want to talk any longer.”

  Surely he didn’t mean… “Then what do you have in mind?”

  “Come here and I will show you.”

  Did she dare do that? Did she really dare answer the plea in his dark eyes, her own desire for him, in a public rest room no less?

  True, she wanted adventure. And she wanted him. Oh, did she want him. That propelled her forward into his open arms to accept his kiss and his soft abrading tongue between her parted lips.

  He broke the kiss and whispered, “I admit, I could not stand to see that man’s hands on you, even if I have no claim on you.”

  She leaned back and looked into his eyes. “Believe me, you don’t have anything to worry about. The only hands I want on me are yours.”

  He slid a slow fingertip across her collarbone then down the valley between her breasts. “And I want to put my hands on you. My mouth on you. Everywhere.”

  He reached around her neck and tugged the clasp open, allowing the strips of green satin forming the halter to fall to her waist, exposing her bare breasts.

  “We can’t do this here,” she murmured without much conviction.

  He dropped his hands to his sides, challenge in his infinitely mysterious eyes. “Then redo your dress and we will leave.”

  She lifted her chin. “You opened it, you redo it.”

  His eyes burned hot, burned Fiona right to the feminine core. “No.”

  “You’re stubborn.”

  “True, I am. When I want something badly enough. And I want you. Badly.”

  Her pulse picked up speed. “Here?”

  “Now.”

  “That’s crazy.” Fiona reached down to pull the bodice back up, really that’s what she intended to do. But instead of raising the top back into place, she lifted her breasts and offered them to him. He bent his head and drew one nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth over her rigid flesh while he kneaded her bottom.

  She pulled the cloth from his head and tossed it aside so she could work her hands through his silky dark hair. He continued to finesse her breasts with his lips, the gentle scrape of his teeth, the steady pull of his mouth.

  In five more minutes Fiona would bet all the coins in Vegas that she wasn’t going to be able to stop him. She didn’t want to stop him, not even when she heard the rasp of his zipper. She had to know how it would feel to make love with him in wild ways, in a forbidden place. Even here. Even now.

  “Touch me,” he murmured. “I want to feel your hands on me.”

  Reaching between them, Fiona slipped her palm inside his open fly and appraised the territory with curiosity and care, exploring the varying textures and learning exactly which were sensitive just by listening to Scorpio’s breathing, or lack thereof, when she hit the right spot. This totally wicked foreplay made her body boneless and her breathing as irregular as his. Made her hot as a bonfire and weak with a need that only he could satisfy. She was only faintly aware of the impatient knocks at the door until the handle jiggled and a loud voice called, “Housekeeping. Is anyone in there?”

  Fiona wanted to shout, “Go away!” but thought better of it. The last thing they needed was to create a scene and get caught in a compromising position.

  After pulling her hand away, she said, “Let’s take this upstairs before they call in the guards.”

  “I could pay them to leave,” Scorpio murmured as he fondled her breasts with both hands, his eyes locked on to hers.

  Gathering all the strength she could muster, Fiona took a step back and redid her dress. “We have a perfectly good bed waiting for us. Unless you want to continue this pointless search for Birkenfeld.”

  Pushing away from the counter, he folded the cloth in precise creases and tucked it and the gold band in the inside jacket pocket. He then circled his arms around her without bothering to refasten his fly. “I will resume the search later, when I can concentrate.” He pressed her palm against his erection. “After I take care of this.”

  “The best idea you’ve had all night.” She raised his zipper. “But not here.”

  Before Fiona changed her mind and decided to ignore the chorus of protesting feminine voices outside the door, she disengaged the lock and walked out with Scorpio trailing behind her. She ignored the furtive glances, the nervous giggles as they strode past the line of fidgeting females, until she glanced to her right and saw the same woman from the boutique leering as if Fiona was the devil’s spawn. The uptight granny reminded Fiona of her aunt Oralene who hadn’t been happy unless she was sitting in judgment of someone. If Fiona wasn’t in such a hurry to get Scorpio alone, she’d stop and tell the lady to get a chin wax and an attitude adjustment.

  Scorpio came to Fiona’s side and entwined his fingers with hers as they maneuvered through the masses coming into the casinos. Fiona felt her heart beat in a crazy cadence. She was finally going to have what she needed, Scorpio’s full attention. But when they reached the elevator, fear replaced her anticipation, especially when she noticed all the people crowding into the car.

  As if sensing her trepidation, Scorpio pulled her against his side. “We will wait for the next one to arrive.”

  By the time that happened, another group had gathered, smaller this time but too many for Fiona’s comfort. Scorpio held the doors open and she moved inside on noodle legs. But as the first occupants started to enter, Scorpio held up a hand to stop them. “My wife is very nervous on elevators. I should warn you that she sometimes loses control. You’re welcome to join us if you can tolerate her screams.”

  They simultaneously backed off, and Scorpio allowed the doors to close.

  Fiona hugged her arms to her middle and drew in a deep breath as the elevator started its climb. “Was that really necessary? I might hyperventilate, but I have no intention of screaming.”

  “Perhaps you will at that.”

  Fiona noted the heat in his eyes as he flipped a switch on the silver panel. The car came to an abrupt halt between the fifth and sixth floors and so did Fiona’s heart.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when she could finally speak.

  “Turn around and look out the glass.”

  “I can’t move.” Her voice sounding weak and shaky, complementing her legs. “I have to get out of here. Now.”

  “Not yet.”

  She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “Look, if this is your idea of therapy, trap Fiona in an elevator and force her to face her fears, it’s not going to work.”

  “We will not be here long, I assure you,” he said as he took her by the shoulders and turned her around. “In approximately five minutes, an alarm will begin to sound if the elevator does not move.”

  Alarms sounded in Fiona’s brain even when Scorpio slipped one arm around her from behind and pulled her against him. “Try to relax,” he whispered as he ran one palm down the back of her thigh then up again, taking her dress with him, exposing her bottom to the cool draft of air filtering into the elevator and the heat of his hand.

  “What are you doing now?” she asked, her voice no less shaky.

  “I am giving you good memories of elevators.” He kissed her neck. “I am going to give you something to make you forget your fears. Something good to make you scream.
”

  “You’re going to get us arrested,” she said as he slid his hand beneath her panties to work his magic on bare skin.

  “No one will see us,” he said in a low voice. “Not even when I do this.”

  Fiona gasped when he cupped his palm between her thighs and skated one finger over her flesh, back and forth in a tantalizing rhythm. She braced her palms on the glass to keep from wilting onto the floor. His insistent touch, his ardent stroking stoked the fire and blocked all her fears. She was entirely immersed in the sensations, wet from his caress and the fact that they were in an elevator with a glass wall and anyone who had a mind could look up and know by her face what was happening. Know because Scorpio’s other hand came up to weigh her breast, his thumb passing over her nipple in sync with his finger thrusting deep inside her.

  She leaned back against him, dizzy from the rapidly approaching climax, fearing she might slide to the ground. He held fast to her but even when the series of endless spasms began, he didn’t let up. And when the alarm sounded, Fiona shuddered and released a long moan that bordered on a scream.

  The elevator began to move again, but she truly didn’t care. She only cared about Scorpio and what he had done to her. She turned into his arms and kissed him, knowing that in a short time, he would be hers completely, at least for tonight.

  From the lobby below, a bespectacled, silver-haired woman watched the elevator’s ascent. To most observers, she appeared to be any tourist taking a break from the hustle and bustle of the casino craze. To most passersby, she could be someone’s cookie-baking, blanket-knitting mother up from Florida on a summer junket to Vegas.

  But she wasn’t a woman at all. She was a desperate man caught in the throes of madness, bent on revenge, filled with a hatred that knew no bounds.

  A clever man who had no job, no money to speak of and no pride. A man who a year ago would never have donned a shapeless black dress and ugly sensible shoes along with a wig that felt like a vise covering his pounding head.

  He couldn’t stop the noise racing through his brain, the voices that taunted him, voices of the people who thought they were smarter than him. In reality, they were stupid and careless and he would find them soon. Shakir and his redheaded lover, Natalie. No, not Natalie. But they were one and the same. Maybe he couldn’t recall her name, but he knew what she was and what she deserved. In a matter of hours he would watch her suffer, and he would watch her die along with Shakir.

  They could go to their high-dollar suite and screw like rabbits and he would be waiting for them when they came back downstairs, and they would return because Shakir wouldn’t give up that easily. And Roman Birkenfeld, once esteemed doctor, would be waiting with glee to slit Shakir’s aristocratic throat.

  Never before had a woman held so much power over Darin Shakir. Never before had he wanted someone so fervently that he would neglect his responsibilities. The mission no longer mattered once he had Fiona in the suite, divesting her of the dress between kisses as they made their way into the bedroom. Once there, he made quick work of the jacket and tie, tossing them aside, then struggled out of the confining shoes and socks. Fiona stood silently watching, clad only in sheer lace panties, stockings that came to her thighs and high heels.

  Wearing only his slacks, he sat on the edge of the mattress to look his fill and to reclaim his control. After a long visual journey over her body, his gaze came to rest on her tentative expression, fearing that she would change her mind, knowing that honor bound him to respect her decision, whatever that decision might be.

  He clasped her hands and pulled her forward between his legs. “What is it?”

  She worked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ve only done this a couple of times with one man.”

  Darin was somewhat surprised by the revelation, yet he would endeavor to put her mind at ease. “It is not something you easily forget.”

  She lowered her eyes to their joined hands. “Unless it was forgettable.”

  “Did the man you were with not treat you well?”

  “Let’s just say he didn’t appreciate my…problem.”

  Darin’s understanding began to dawn. “Your fear of confinement, you mean.”

  “Yes. I never told him about it. He just thought I wasn’t all that interested in lovemaking.”

  He reached up and lifted her chin, seeking her eyes. “I will make certain that you experience pleasure. That our time, together—” he entwined their fingers, symbolizing the joining they would soon undertake “—will be unforgettable.”

  Her expression relaxed somewhat, and desire replaced the concern in her eyes. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  He released her hands, unfastened his fly and snaked out of his slacks. After working his way onto the bed, he laced his hands together behind his head and told her, “Undress for me.”

  She slipped off the heels, shimmied out of her panties but when she reached for the stockings, he said, “Leave those on.”

  Fiona acknowledged the request with a sensuous smile. “Wow. This is a rush, stripping for a man. Anything else you want me to do?”

  He held out his hand to her. “Come to me. Come with me.”

  She complied, straddling his thighs, leaving her completely open to his eyes, to his touch as he sifted through the shading between her legs, touching her again and again while watching her eyes grow hazy and soft, her full lips slack. But before the climax claimed her, Darin reached for the condom he’d left on the nightstand and sheathed himself.

  “Now,” he murmured, lifting her hips so he could guide her onto his shaft. He met some resistance and touched her again, more insistent this time, until her body gave in to the climax, pulling him into her heat.

  Darin gritted his teeth in an effort to hold on to his sanity when she matched the movement of his hips as he sought his own release. She ground against him, her hair a wild tangle of curls surrounding her face as she took him on a journey into the deepest realm of pleasure. Pure, unrestrained pleasure unmatched by any lover he had ever known, and he had known many. Perhaps the feelings arose from wanting her more than he had wanted anything in a long while, from waiting for what seemed like infinity to have her. Perhaps because she made him feel truly alive for the first time in years.

  In the past this was the point when he closed his eyes and immersed himself in the sensations, escaping to a place that included only physical release. Yet he kept his eyes open, drawn to the freedom he witnessed in Fiona’s expression. That sense of liberation overtook him as his own climax began to build, harder and harder, faster and faster until everything around him disappeared, dissolved by this woman who had shed her inhibitions to give him what he needed, what he so desperately desired from her. Only her.

  He pulled her down to join their lips as securely as they had joined their bodies. His heart thundered against his chest, his body shook when the climax ripped through him with the strength of a tempest. Fiona collapsed against him, and he clung to her as if she were a lifeline, his life force.

  As the effects began to subside and reality took hold, Darin recognized he had been here before, replete, physically satisfied. Yet for the past few years, he had gone there alone, detached, a self-imposed seclusion that involved only primal need as protection against emotional involvement.

  But as Fiona rested her cheek against his chest and he stroked her hair, as he drew in her perfume and felt the beat of her own heart against his, he realized he hadn’t been alone at all. Tonight he had taken her with him.

  Instinct told him to withdraw from her body, from her. Yet he could not consider pushing her away, not with her so sweet and soft in his arms. Only a few more moments, he told himself. Then he would leave her to return to the mission and the only life he had dared to embrace. A life that included no one.

  Several minutes passed and he still made no move to leave. Her breathy sigh acted on him like a magical spell, beckoning him to remain until morning, to make love to her again. And again.

 
After a time she rolled onto her side, keeping her arm draped over his abdomen, her head tucked beneath his chin. All he had to do now was kiss her briefly and move from the bed, from her warmth. Still, he stayed.

  “That was incredible,” she murmured. “Definitely unforgettable.”

  Darin heartily agreed. Almost too incredible. “What time is it?” he asked.

  Fiona lifted her head and peered at the bedside clock. “A little after eleven.”

  “I should go back to the casino,” he said, surprised by the lack of enthusiasm in his tone.

  Fiona feathered his neck with kisses. “You should stay here for a while, see what else comes up.” She topped off the comment with a sultry stroke across his abdomen, traveling lower with each caress.

  Darin laid his palm on her hand to stop her downward progress, otherwise he would again disregard his duty. “I should continue the search. Birkenfeld could return here at midnight.”

  Rising up onto one elbow, she stared down at him, disappointment in her eyes. “And that’s still an hour away.” She winked. “We could find something interesting to do until then.”

  “I need more time to recover.”

  She sent a direct look at his growing erection. “Well, you could have fooled me.”

  Darin rolled to his side and cupped her jaw in his palm. “Were you not completely satisfied?”

  “Oh, yeah, but you’ve turned me into this wild creature who just can’t seem to get enough of you.”

  “Then you wish more from me?”

  “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”

  He outlined her lips with a fingertip then did the same to her nipples. “Perhaps we can continue this later, after I’ve made sure the fugitive has not returned.”

  She pretended to pout. “You know, I like this guy less and less. But I do owe him one big favor.”

  Darin frowned. “What would that be?”

  “If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have met you. And frankly I wouldn’t have wanted to miss that for the world.”