by Erin Snihur
Rolling her eyes at her sister’s logic, Teresa threw up her hands in frustration. “I only noticed his glasses. Nothing else. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in meeting another guy right now, Sammy. You know that. After Gerry, I just…”
Holding up her hand to stop Teresa from continuing, Samantha’s voice hissed, “We promised each other we wouldn’t bring up that jerk’s name. We can’t let him ruin your vacation. Thus, the radio silence with our phones in the room safe. If you get the chance to be with a guy for the first time in years, take it. I don’t see what the big deal about it is.”
Snorting, Teresa continued on their walk toward one of the resort’s clubs with Samantha hot on her heels. As she did, she slipped her camera back into her purse, her fingers itching for her phone. It had been her sister’s foolish idea that they needed a phone free vacation. What if there was an emergency?
“That’s just it. I haven’t been with anyone else since college, Sammy, and Gerry...he was just awful. It was always bad when we did…that,” Teresa murmured nervously as she pulled on the hem of her skin tight wrap dress. Its dark, maroon color really brought out the color of her pale skin.
“You can say it, Teresa, had sex. When you had sex, Gerry was lacking,” Sammy murmured and patted her on the shoulder.
“Yes, I mean, no. What if it was me? Like he said?” Teresa asked worriedly. “What if I am…defective.”
Sammy pulled Teresa to a stop, her anger clear as day as she fumed, “I’m going to kill him when we get back home. You’re not defective, Teresa. It’s him. He’s the creep who can’t get it up. Trust me, I’ve been with guys like him. He needs to get a grip.”
Not letting Teresa protest, Sammy pointed down the cobbled path. “There’s the club. One of the waiters told me about it and it’s supposed to be a lot of fun. I figure we have a few drinks and dance until we drop. Maybe scope out the guys a bit. Your pool buddy might be there, too.”
Blushing again as Teresa recalled the way the man’s gaze seemed to sear her skin, “He’s not my anything.”
Ignoring Teresa’s comment, Sammy pulled her toward the club entrance, waving their matching resort bracelets at the bouncer who pushed open the door. With the door now partially open, the thumping music, heat and smell of sweat were everywhere. Samantha pushed Teresa further down the long hallway that eventually opened up into a large bar area with an open dance floor sitting at the back. By the bar, Teresa could see a set of stairs that led up to what looked like a VIP area.
Avoid that area at all costs, an intimidating large man seemed to say with his eyes as he stood before the roped off stairs, glaring at any who passed by. Teresa shivered when the large man’s gaze met hers briefly before shifting to a group of well-dressed men who approached and appeared to slip the bouncer a few bills. At the man’s acknowledging nod, the well-dressed men were let up the VIP steps.
As if finally realizing what had her sister distracted, Samantha whispered, “We need to get up there. Look at all the cute guys going up!”
Rolling her eyes, Teresa pointed to the bar, “Go find us a booth while I get the drinks. Margarita, right?”
Samantha only barely nodded as Teresa watched her sister wink and send a flirty wave to a few guys already on the dance floor. Sighing to herself, Teresa marched over to the crowded bar and waited until a few people vacated their seats to snag her own stool and wait for the bartender to come to her. Teresa preferred to wait, she enjoyed people watching while the bartender moved to and fro with the many club goers.
Finally, when the bartender arrived and took her order, Teresa watched as the good-looking man wove his way around the bar, putting their drinks together. Sighing in relief when he speedily delivered them back in a few minutes, Teresa thanked him and left a generous tip at the bar before turning to search the growing crowd for Samantha.
Sociable and an all-around party girl, Teresa watched as her sister wined and dined a few men at a partially empty booth. Not wanting to put a damper on their evening, Teresa moved in their direction, gaining her sister’s attention who pointedly introduced the two men.
“T! This is Carlos and Enrique,” Samantha practically squealed, shooting a pointed look at Carlos as if to say, he’s yours.
Great, just what I need, Teresa muttered inwardly and tried to smile kindly at the handsome man and his friend who both stood to allow Sam and Teresa into the booth.
Amoz barely registered the thumping music and crowded club down below as he stood in the upper VIP lounge. A deep groan from behind him only barely registered and the tall figure to blame brushed against Amoz’ shoulder. The movement broke his concentration away from the mysterious woman from the pool. She was here, having drinks with her friend and two men.
Clenching his fists around the railing, Amoz turned his gaze away from the mysterious woman and leveled his own harsh glare on his friend, Tariq Abadi, Crown Prince of Hattan, who only grinned knowingly back.
“Something of interest have you distracted, my friend? Or perhaps it is someone,” Tariq crooned before turning to gaze over the club searching for who Amoz had been looking at so intently.
“Forget it,” Amoz answered tersely and took a sip from his glass. “When did you arrive? I thought your father called you back to Hattan.”
Tariq grimaced into his glass before turning away from the balcony and perused the lounge area. His gaze landed on a few beautiful women clustered on a pair of lounge chairs.
“My father can bark orders all he likes, it won’t make me move faster toward the crown. Besides, Khalid is off honeymooning with Amelia and Malik took Samara to England to see her sister. Kasin, well, Kasin hasn’t exactly been acting the same since Malik’s wedding. He’s off in his own world at the moment. You’re all I have left, my friend. Let’s make this night count,” Tariq lifted his glass as he tried to gain the attention of a waiter.
Rolling his eyes over his friend’s carefree ideas, Amoz turned back to stare over the balcony ledge at the mysterious woman and her party sitting in their booth. He clenched the balcony tightly at the sight of the flirty man reaching across the table and touching the mystery woman’s hand.
It was brief, but Amoz saw it. Her flinch at the flirty man’s touch. The man didn’t notice, because he didn’t remove his hand, even when she tried to remove hers under the guise of picking up her drink.
Amoz was only a few seconds away from racing down the VIP steps to punch the foolish man into a pulp before the flirty man’s attitude seemed to change. He was clutching the woman’s hand so tightly that Amoz gestured to security, intent on sending them to deal with the insolent man.
In an instant all hell broke loose. One moment the man had leaned over the table, his hand still clutching the woman’s and the next the woman’s free hand swung across the table and connected with his face.
Stunned, the man released her hand and the woman spared no moment as she grasped her glass and dumped it over the man’s shocked head. The man’s friend protested loudly and, soon, a few people joined to defend the women. Ignoring Tariq’s protests, Amoz ran out of the lounge and down the steps to a few of the security guards who watched the women’s defenders arguing with her assaulters.
“Break that up and get those men out of here. I want them off this resort by morning,” Amoz growled, his eyes flared with heat as he pointed to the group. Not waiting to see if his orders were carried out, Amoz pushed through the crowd.
Just as he reached them, the first punch was thrown and a feminine scream erupted from the crush. Growling under his breath, Amoz pushed further through the pulsating crowd and thankfully saw a flash of maroon and a pale, soft arm pushing against a flailing man.
Pushing the fallen man aside, Amoz didn’t think and instead just grabbed both women by the arms and dragged them from the club. Ignoring the sound of Tariq’s voice calling after him, Amoz didn’t stop dragging the women until they were far enough away from the club.
Both women appeared stunned when A
moz finally released them as they stared up into his face stunned. The other woman’s face shifted from shocked to a big grin as she stared between Amoz and the woman he’d taken an interest in.
His woman still continued to stare at him, shocked with her perfect mouth gaping open.
When did you start thinking of her as yours, Amoz?
Now that he had her before him, Amoz was equally as stunned by her beauty as he had been at the pool. Her eyes were sparkling green in color and sent blood straight to his cock.
The woman standing next to his beauty elbowed her softly and that seemed to stir the woman out of her dazed expression as she blushed bright red before crossing her arms over her chest. Inwardly suppressing a groan at the way her bosom swelled under the pressure, Amoz watched as her lips began to move.
Shaking his head, Amoz inwardly cursed as he realized too quickly that his woman had spoken to him. Ignoring her friend’s snickers, Amoz cleared his throat and met the woman’s green eyes, “I apologize. What was it you were saying?”
The woman blushed once more and murmured, her voice soft and hesitant, “I was just saying thank you for getting us out of there. It got out of hand way too fast.”
Amoz swore under his breath. “You shouldn’t throw yourself at strangers like that. You could get hurt.”
Both women stared at him as if he had two heads. His woman’s friend literally face palmed herself before wearily shaking her head. His woman, however, wasn’t so silent in her condemnation.
“Excuse me?” His woman asked, incredulous as she stared up at Amoz with venom in her eyes. “You think we asked for that asshole to put his hands all over us and demand sex for the drinks he offered to buy us?”
Clenching his fists and grinding his teeth, Amoz exhaled, trying to rein in his temper and possessive nature. “No, of course not. But when you come into the club, like a kitten going into a lion’s den, dressed like…”
His voice trailed off as he waved his hand in her direction and nearly groaned at the sight of her. Her breasts were pushed up in the maroon colored cocktail dress and her pale skin shone from her bare shoulders and down to her beautifully toned legs. What Amoz would give to have those pale legs wrapped around his waist.
Damn it, Amoz, control your dick.
The woman scoffed and snapped her fingers in front of his face. “You’re just as bad as that jerk was. Thanks for the help, qadib!”
Amoz snorted in laughter at her use of the Arabic word for male genitalia. It was funny to him. As a Sheik, he’d never been called such a thing unless it was by a truly close friend. He found he liked hearing her attempt to insult him in Arabic. When she saw the humor flooding his face, she hissed back in frustration, grabbed her friend by the hand and stormed off down the cobbled stone path.
Hastily trying to pull the angry woman to a halt, his woman’s friend called out, “Teresa! Slow down!”
“Shit,” Amoz swore as they disappeared around a bend. “That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to happen.”
“What exactly were you trying to do?” Tariq’s voice answered back from behind him and Amoz nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to face his confused and mocking friend with a raised eyebrow.
“Nothing,” Amoz murmured and began striding back toward the club to oversee the chaos and security measures.
A hand grasping him by the shoulder stopped him. Tariq laughed and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “You’ve been celibate for too long, my friend.”
Rolling his eyes, Amoz shrugged off Tariq’s hand and pushed him playfully toward the club entrance. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Amoz made a mental note to see if he could find the green-eyed beauty, Teresa. Even her name was beautiful. All he wanted to do was throw her down in his bed and never let her leave, Amoz knew he had to apologize. Big time.
3
How Teresa had managed to sleep with her sister babbling on and on about their crazy night and sexist rescuer, she had no idea. It was only when there came a faint knock at the door and her sister began squealing that Teresa rose from her bed and blankets. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Teresa’s blurry vision was met with whiteness. A beautiful vase of white, star-shaped flowers with black centers was instantly in her face and the sweet smell perfumed the air.
Blinking the blurriness away, Teresa looked from the vase of flowers in Samantha’s hands to her sister’s cheerful face. Her sister was bouncing on the tips of her toes as she excitedly squealed.
“There’s a card!” Samantha finally shrieked, ignoring Teresa’s wince as her overly excitable sister set the vase on Teresa’s bedside table.
Nervously plucking the envelope from the bouquet, Teresa scanned the envelope. Her first name was the only thing written on the envelope, but on the back where the envelope was sealed lay an embossed image of what appeared to be a lion roaring. Surrounding the roaring lion was a beautiful decal and palm leaves.
Glancing back up at her sister who continued to bounce, Teresa winced, “You don’t suppose these are from Gerry, do you?”
Samantha stopped bouncing, as if finally realizing the great possibility. Silent for only a moment, her sister began shaking her, “The only other person who knows we are here is mom and she’s back home. She promised she wouldn’t tell Gerry where we were going.”
Teresa rolled her eyes at her sister's comments. While Teresa knew her mother loved her in her own way, Teresa always got the feeling that her mother would have preferred Teresa not have separated from Gerry and instead tried to work things out. No matter what Teresa said, her mother would always see the good in Gerry. When she and Gerry married, Teresa and Samantha’s father had just died leaving their mother with considerable debt to manage. Gerry had swooped in with his trust fund and saved the day. He was a hero in her mother’s eyes and Teresa often wondered if her mother would have believed her about Gerry’s abuse if she hadn’t seen the proof of the bruises, he doled out in the last few years of their marriage.
“They still talk. I know they do, I’m the one helping pay for mom’s telephone bill, remember? I see his number on the statements.” Teresa mumbled and, at her sister’s urging, carefully began to open the envelope.
The scent of the flowers tickled Teresa’s nose deliciously as she pulled the small card from the envelope. The same roaring lion, this time embossed in black at the back of the card stared back at her. Intrigued, Teresa flipped the card over. There was a simple phrase on the card in English and then another in Arabic. The swirling black letters in masculine scrawl confused Teresa.
Enjoy, ya helo.
~A.
Samantha’s squeal was enough to rattle Teresa’s eardrum, causing her to nearly drop the card. Shaking Teresa’s shoulder, Samantha quickly pulled away and went bouncing around the room in search of something.
“It’s from a secret admirer! You have been holding out on me! Where is the Arabic to English translation book?” Samantha screeched from inside their shared closet.
While Samantha frantically searched for the book, Teresa stared at the card and the writing. She already knew what it said. It had been her dream to visit the Arabian Coast and immerse herself in the culture. She had taken a few online lessons on the Arabic language. Learning the bad words had been fun. Learning the sweet, romantic phrases that possessive Arabian men often said to their women in romance novels had sent Teresa into a warm tizzy.
“Aren’t you going to help me find that confounded book? Don’t you want to know what it says?” Samantha shrieked from the other side of the room, knocking Teresa out of her flower-scented daze.
“I don’t need it,” Teresa said, finally looking away from the card to her confused sister and then back down at the flowers. “I know what it says.”
Jumping onto her own bed, Samantha smiled widely at her sister, “What does it say?”
“Ya helo means my beautiful in Arabic,” Teresa mumbles softly as she carefully reaches over to caress a flower petal.
Screeching once more, Samantha
bounces off the bed and begins talking a mile a minute, “Who do you think sent them? It couldn’t be Gerry, he doesn’t know a lick of Arabic! Ohh! What about the guy who saved us at the club last night? He looked Middle Eastern! He was so handsome and wasn’t he the same guy who was checking you out at the pool? Oh my gosh, he wants you! There’s so much to do! We need to get your hair done and your makeup, then you’re going to go down to the front desk and ask them to send a thank you card for the flowers! Soon you’ll have that man in the palm of your hands! What a perfect way to start your holiday!”
Finally standing from the bed, Teresa called her sister’s name a few times before holding up her hand to interrupt her sister’s words. “Samantha stop! I’m not going to send that man anything. He’s a sexist jerk who probably only wants to get in my pants. If you want him, you can have him, but he is not for me. I already have one too many jerks in my life. I don’t need another one ruining my chance at seeing all that Elish has to offer.”
Gaping with her mouth open, Samantha’s face morphed into a disappointed frown, “What…but the flowers are so pretty. Maybe he wants to apologize!”
Rolling her eyes at her sister’s romanticized version of events, Teresa marched around the room quickly pulling on a casual sundress and pulling her long hair into a loose braid.
“Men like him don’t apologize. Trust me. Been there, done that. I’m returning the flowers to the front desk. He’s lucky I don’t throw the whole vase at him,” Teresa said, her voice final.
Grabbing the vase, Teresa headed for the door, ignoring her sister’s protests. As she opened the door, Samantha called out.
“Fine. Send them back. I just wanted you to live a little crazy for once in your life!”
Before Teresa could respond, Samantha had slammed their room door closed, effectively locking Teresa out. Shaking her head at her sister’s dramatic words, Teresa made her way to the front desk.
