Her Sheik Protector

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Her Sheik Protector Page 12

by Linda Conrad


  Gripping her hips as she lifted her bottom, he helped her rise up, inch by incredible inch. He waited, holding his breath until she hesitated at the very tip, and then he rammed his hips up at the same time as she brought hers down with a hard slam.

  His breath exploded from his lungs on a sharp rush. Her breathing became labored as he continued guiding her up and down. Between one lungful of air and the next, they began moving as one. The pressure built. The pace increased.

  They worked together in a frenzied motion that belied how he felt. He wanted this to last forever, yet he was racing toward the finish line. It was too much. It was not nearly enough.

  He gazed up at her, watching as her chest rose and fell. Watching as she fought her release. He couldn’t help himself. He pinched her nipples between thumb and forefinger. Once. Twice. Her eyes opened wide in her pleasure.

  “Keep your eyes open,” he begged her. “Look at me.”

  Higher and higher they climbed toward the peak. But she did as he asked and locked onto his gaze.

  In one of the most erotic moments of his entire life, he watched her eyes as he reached down between them and rubbed a thumb against her sensitive nub. He felt the electric shock as it careened through her body. Her eyes rolled back in her head.

  She finally gave in to it and came on a long, delicious shudder. Her internal muscles sucked and milked at him like a dangerous undertow. The sheer power of it brought him to his own release.

  Too soon the astounding sensations totally consumed and inflamed him with majesty and euphoria. The enormous explosion of heat and fire seemed to go on and on.

  He rolled with it, let it arc over them both. She collapsed against his chest, melted and boneless. Both of them gasped for air, hearts pounding and sweat pouring. His arms cocooned her against the outside world as he let her fall asleep in that position.

  There would be no sleep for him. It took a moment for his head to clear. But when it did, thoughts zinged around his brain.

  This woman was his. Had to be his.

  Embarrassing emotions he had ducked his entire life leaked out of his heart right along with the tears leaking quietly from his eyes. When she shifted in his arms and breathed against his chest, he knew his obsession was going to be a lifetime curse.

  How had this happened? He’d never wanted anyone to become this important. This necessary to his very existence.

  The last time anyone had meant this much, she’d died. His mother had died. And he had failed her.

  Darin knew he’d failed her because his father had always acted as though he believed it to be true. Believed that his sons had contributed to their mother’s demise. Crazy or not, Darin had done everything he could to make up for it. To prove he was strong and smart—and worthy of a father’s love.

  Now here was yet another person whom he felt he should prove something to. Whom he could not fail. Darin’s only mission in life from now on was to protect Rylie. Keep her from any harm. It was no longer a choice but a command that came from somewhere so deeply buried that he would never admit that he recognized it for what it truly was.

  Love.

  Looking down at her peaceful face and her thick auburn lashes lying quietly against her cheek, Darin knew only one thing. Felt the certainty of only one thing.

  Mine to cherish, he thought. Mine to always protect.

  Chapter 11

  Rylie woke up groggy and disoriented. She’d just had the sexiest dream imaginable.

  Trying to roll over, she found herself entangled in broad, buff arms and pinned down by heavy, muscular thighs. Darin. Not a dream at all, but the most sensual experience of her entire life. Without thinking, she almost turned into him, ready to show him how much what they’d shared had mattered to her.

  Damn it. She froze, her mind reeling over exactly how much being with Darin had really mattered. Now what was she supposed to do?

  She’d been counting on having so-so sex with the man. Instead, he’d turned her whole theory about them being incompatible on its head. She had pushed him and teased him, sure he would never give her the mutual respect she knew she must have.

  And what did he do? He gave her magic.

  Damn it. She’d seen a whole new side to Darin, and it scared the hell out of her.

  Torn now, with one part of her wanting to wake him up with kisses and declaring her undying love. And the other part of her wanting to sneak out of the room without waking him so she could run like hell. Rylie was on the verge of becoming unglued.

  Damn it. And damn him for making her want to believe in happily-ever-afters for the first time in her life.

  How crazy must she be? Crazy enough to be stupid, that’s what. They’d known each other for a grand total of what? Three whole days? Lifetime commitments didn’t come in such neat little packages. Her parents had known each other for most of their lives when they’d finally gotten married. Her mother said it took that long to develop respect and deep regard for another’s feelings. Besides, every quickie overnight affair Rylie had ever heard of had ended sooner rather than later. And had ended badly to boot.

  Yet all of her knowledge, all of her warnings to herself, meant exactly nothing when she thought about how he’d gazed into her eyes. With looks that seemed to say he wanted her to be his Cinderella. The more she thought about it, the more she went into panic mode. She’d been playing at some kind of crazy, stupid game and now it looked like she would get burned as a booby prize.

  Trying to quiet her traitorous pounding heart, Rylie searched her mind for sensible reasons for why she should be feeling this way about him. Was it simply a matter of an adrenaline letdown? She’d read about how people who had been in life-and-death situations sometimes needed to have a sexual encounter in order to prove to themselves that they were really alive.

  That might be true in some cases, but it was not applicable here. Surely they were safe. At least for a while. Furthermore, it had been all her idea long before they’d done that scary top-of-the-train balancing act.

  Well, dang. Where did any of that leave her?

  Falling in love?

  But she didn’t want that. Could. Not. Have. That. Not with a man whose family took part in international espionage and covert wars of retribution with centuries-old enemies. It was crazy—stupid!

  Again she asked the question: Where did that leave her?

  The answer came into her head loud and clear. It left her running for her life. As soon as she could get dressed and find her way back to Geneva.

  She tried to slide out from under his arm, but Darin only tightened his grip around her.

  “Hi,” he said in a rough voice. “I don’t guess we have enough time for a repeat performance?”

  She twisted out of his embrace and sat up, dragging the shawl around her chest as she went. “No way. In fact, I’m beginning to worry about our clothes being ready in time for us to catch the train. Can you check on them while I clean up a little?”

  She wasn’t going to talk to him about splitting up at the train station and each going their own way. Not yet. One glance at Darin told her he was already staring at her like she’d slapped him.

  Not ready to face any after-the-fact discussions, Rylie scurried from the bed, still trailing the shawl. How could she talk to him about something when she hadn’t even settled it in her own mind yet? She took two steps toward the bathroom before he spoke.

  “Aren’t we…can’t we talk first?”

  She refused to turn around. “Talk about what? Everything’s all set, right? I mean with your brothers and the Taj Zabbar.”

  “Yes, that part is all set. That’s not what I want to talk about.”

  “Oh?” She bounced on her toes, ready to make a mad dash into the bathroom. “What did you want to say?”

  “I wanted to talk about what just happened to us in this bed.” Now his voice was sounding all edgy and pissy.

  Well, too bad. She did not have time for either recriminations or regrets. “Um… It was great
. Really. Best sex ever. But you know we can’t take a chance of missing that train. Please go check on our clothes.”

  “Great sex?” The sound of his voice was…hurt…and it made her finally turn around.

  “Darin, I don’t know what you want from me. It was really, really terrific sex. But we can’t be late.”

  He turned away from her to step into his slacks, though first she’d seen the most heart-wrenching look pass over his face. What had he wanted her to say? Obviously something she hadn’t given him. Now Rylie was totally confused. She certainly hadn’t meant to hurt him.

  “Get ready,” he told her as he opened the door to the hall. “I’ll get our clothes from the innkeeper. Be back in a minute.”

  Twenty minutes later, Rylie still felt a little crazy-stupid. Neither she nor Darin had spoken one word since he’d left to pick up their clothes. But at this point, the two of them were dressed and nearly ready to leave for the station.

  Darin was pocketing his things. He’d stored his weapon, passport, phone and cash in the nightstand’s drawer alongside her waist purse. A casual thought occurred to her out of the blue. Where was the leather portfolio that he’d been carrying? She hadn’t seen anything of it since before they’d gotten on the train. Had he left it in Geneva? She thought about asking, but it was time to go.

  Darin seemed satisfied that everything was stashed and after giving the room one last going over, he turned to her. “Ready?”

  His eyes were still brooding, sad. Rylie couldn’t manage to say a word for fear she would break down entirely and spill words that she hadn’t had the time to consider.

  She nodded. He turned the doorknob and stood aside to let her go first.

  Stepping across the threshold, Rylie felt as if she were leaving behind a special place. And a special time. For one second she wished they could go backward for a few hours. She turned to give the room one last glance and caught Darin’s gaze.

  He was watching her closely, and it seemed to her that he was blinking back a sheen of wetness. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, when all of a sudden his gaze flicked away to glance at something over her shoulder. Before she could judge whether this new look was one of anger or terror, she was roughly grabbed from behind and shoved hard.

  Darin reached for the gun at his back, but a deeply accented voice came from right behind her. “Don’t try it, Kadir. Not if you want her to live.”

  A strong arm, clothed in rough cloth, came around her throat. Immediately she was pulled up tightly against the solid wall of the man’s chest. A man whom she had yet to see.

  Darin took a step forward. “Don’t hurt her.”

  Rylie felt the sharp edge of a knife blade digging into her throat. She squeaked when the blade broke her skin.

  Darin raised his hands, offered up his weapon and stepped back. “Okay. Okay. Stop! I’ll do whatever you say.”

  The shadow of a man dressed in Middle Eastern–style robes brushed past her and disarmed Darin. After pocketing the gun, the fellow casually slammed his fist into Darin’s face. Hard. Darin’s body stumbled backward and hit the wall beside the bed.

  Rylie could do nothing but whimper.

  Then a third man, a great bear of a guy, stepped around the man who was holding on to her. This third, huge man had his fist wrapped around the throat of a much smaller man, and he was dragging the poor little fellow beside him.

  Rylie was stunned to realize the smaller man was their porter from the train. Blood trickled from the porter’s ear and he was crying.

  Instead of feeling panic, Rylie became angry at such injustice and furious over the treatment they and the porter were receiving from these thugs. But she was in no position to help. So she silently swore to get even as soon as she could get the chance.

  The Middle Easterner grabbed the front of Darin’s shirt and pulled him forward to spit in his face. “You have property that does not belong to you, Kadir dog,” he snarled.

  Darin started to shake his head, but he never got the chance. The big bear of a guy dropped the half-conscious porter in a heap on the floor like a rag doll. Then he reached out and raised Darin off his feet, using only a two-fisted grip. Slamming Darin down hard again, bear-guy held on to him with one enormous hand while ripping Darin’s jacket right off his body with the other. As Darin’s arms were yanked from his sleeves, Rylie swore she could hear popping sounds as if his shoulders were being pulled from their sockets.

  Darin winced and tried to fight, but bear-guy backhanded him and rocked a fist into his gut with such force she was surprised when it didn’t rip his body in half.

  Oh, Darin.

  Rylie tried to inch out of the hold she was caught up in, but with her first move, the man behind her tightened his grip and pushed the blade farther into her skin. She felt blood leaking down her neck and realized she had no choice but to stay quiet and watch as Darin was stripped, frisked and beaten.

  When he lay moaning on the floor, minus all clothing except for his slacks, the Middle Eastern–looking man turned to her. “Are you carrying our property, whore?”

  She was afraid to speak. Couldn’t even move enough to shake her head.

  Everything was mostly a blur after that. She remembered the big man moving into her space and roughly patting down her body. When he felt her travel purse, bear-guy stopped, and in a move so swift it shocked her stupid, he tore the T-shirt up and over her head. Standing there with only her bra for cover from the waist up, she began to shake. The next thing Rylie saw coming at her was the tip of a sharp, slender knife.

  In the background, she heard Darin calling out for them to stop, but the knife’s arc never halted. She cried out, sure she was about to die. With one long downward slice, bear-guy cut the purse right off her body, leaving an angry-looking gash down her rib cage.

  Too hysterical to cry, Rylie bent over and grabbed her shirt from the floor while bear-guy stayed busy demolishing her purse and tearing into her passport and cell phone. Next thing she knew, the Middle Eastern–looking man nodded at bear guy. Rylie was afraid of what came next.

  The bigger man proceeded to tear the room apart, using both the knife and his bare hands. He ripped the mattress to shreds. The nightstand was turned over and smashed to bits. It occurred to her that all this commotion should bring the innkeeper—or the police. But all remained silent.

  Trembling, but not being held at knifepoint at the moment, Rylie slipped on her shirt again and went to kneel at Darin’s side.

  “How badly are you hurt?” she whispered.

  He turned his head and tried to wink at her out of an eye already swollen and blue. “I’m okay. Stay alive, Rylie. No matter what else happens. You stay alive.”

  “I will, Darin, I promise….”

  At that moment, the big man stopped tearing up the room, reached down and yanked Darin to his feet. Darin swayed but stayed upright.

  “Once more, Kadir,” the Middle Eastern man began. “Where is our property?” Then he turned and grabbed Rylie by the hair, jerking her up beside him.

  He placed a long-barrelled gun to her temple. “Quick. Tell me or she is dead.”

  “It’s on the train. I swear I left it in our sleeping car.”

  The Middle Eastern man exploded in a voice at once low yet loud in his throat. “Liar! We checked that car.”

  Silently, bear-guy put his big, meaty hands around Darin’s throat and began to squeeze. Darin tried to fight him off, but the other man was at least twice his size.

  Rylie closed her eyes so she couldn’t see down the barrel of the gun and held her breath, waiting for her end to come. I’m sorry, Darin. I tried to stay alive.

  She expected to hear the last click and explosion she would ever hear coming from a gun before it was all over and everything went black. Instead, Rylie could hardly believe what she heard. The Middle Eastern man began speaking a few soft words to his comrades in an odd language. Her eyes popped open and she saw bear-guy drop a still-breathing Darin like a hot r
ock. The Middle Eastern–looking guy, apparently the boss, was now holding a phone to his ear and not a gun to her head.

  Ohmygod. Both she and Darin were still alive. And if she could stay alive like she’d promised him, there was always a chance of clocking these dudes. Of showing them a little Texas justice.

  Rylie bit down on her tongue to keep her mouth shut and bided her time until she could make a move against them. And oh man, she couldn’t wait.

  Hamad Taj Zabbar was seething as his hired man tried to explain the situation over the phone. “The communiqué!” he shouted into the speaker. “We must have it.”

  “We have searched both the train car and the entire villa, master. And we have searched the persons of the man and woman. The communiqué is not to be found.”

  Never trust a subordinate to do what you should do yourself. “Is the man still alive? What has he told you?”

  “Yes, he is alive. The Kadir dog swore he left the papers on the train. But we searched. It is not so.”

  Hamad hesitated over his next move, wishing he knew more about this particular Kadir brother.

  His assassin-trained employee spoke up out of turn. “Shall we kill them both, my sheik?”

  “No, you fool. Kadir is the only one who knows where he put the papers.” Hamad quickly sifted through what little he knew of Darin Kadir. “You found the man and woman together in a room at the villa. Is that right?”

  “This is true.”

  Then without question, Hamad knew what he must do. “Bring them both here to me. Keep them alive.”

  “Yes, master. Shall we eliminate their conspirators?”

  “You mean the porter and the innkeeper? It is not necessary. Tie them and leave them. It is very possible we may yet need them alive.”

  Hamad felt certain the porter had no knowledge of the whereabouts of the communiqué. The man had fallen apart with only minor torture and quickly disclosed everything he’d known. Yet if the Hunt woman did not prove to be the impetus for obtaining the truth from Darin Kadir, then the porter’s life might be worth using in trade.

 

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