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 flic
ked 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.”
The Sheik's Dangerous Temptation Page 8
