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At the Sheikh's Bidding(13)

By:Chantelle Shaw


‘With a  woman who tricked his father into marrying her so that she   could inherit  a house and a huge fortune,' Zahir finished grimly.

‘I did not  trick Faisal. He asked me to marry him and, as I've already   told you, he  begged me to adopt Kazim. I have had more than enough of   your  outrageous insults,' she muttered, trying to edge past him and   failing  when his big, muscle-packed body barred her way. ‘I want to   leave as  soon as it can be arranged.'

‘Suits me!' Zahir reached into his  jacket and withdrew her passport.   ‘I'll be more than happy to arrange  your immediate departure.' He met   Erin's gaze, his eyes hard and cold as  he watched her nervously finger   the passport.

‘I need Kazim's passport too,' she said shakily, sick fear swilling in her stomach.

‘No.'

‘What do you mean-no? Legally he's my son.'

‘In England maybe. But we're not in England,' Zahir said, with a grim finality that set Erin's temper alight.

‘You  can't kidnap him. I'll go to the British Embassy,' she cried   wildly. ‘I  agreed to bring him to Qubbah to visit your father, and I   trusted that  you would not stop me taking him back to Ingledean. You   can't go back on  your word.'

‘I did not say anything about you taking Kazim away  from Qubbah,' Zahir   shrugged his shoulders impatiently, as if bored with  the argument.   ‘You are free to leave whenever you like. But he is  staying here at the   palace-for good.'

‘No! You can't do that.'

Erin's  face drained of colour, and Zahir felt the faintest tug on his    conscience. Her eyes were huge in her pale face, and her vibrant hair    seemed to have a life of its own, fighting free of the pins that  secured   it to tumble around her shoulders.

She was so beautiful, he  thought angrily, infuriated by his body's   unbidden response to her. He  had never met a woman so exquisitely   lovely, or wanted one with such  shaming hunger. But the level of his   desire for her surprised him. He  had spent his adult life enjoying the   company of beautiful women-women  who were sophisticated and worldly  and  who played the game by his rules,  and who did not have a criminal   record for theft. So why did his libido  go into overdrive whenever he   looked at Erin?

She had been  Faisal's wife-his sister-in-law, for pity's sake! He gave a   bitter laugh  and swung away from her as an unwelcome thought seeped   into his mind.  Did he want her because she had been married to Faisal?   Was his feeling  of satisfaction that she shared this wildfire sexual   awareness more  acute because he still had a score to settle with his   dead brother?  Faisal had stolen the woman he loved, and now he wanted   to turn the  tables? Or was he simply a man who had taken one look at a   woman and  been consumed by a desperate, overwhelming hunger to possess   her, and  nothing-not even the knowledge that she was an immoral   gold-digger-could  detract him from that need?                       
       
           



       

He glanced at her again, his eyes  narrowing on the frantic rise and   fall of her small breasts. She looked  hot, and her thin skirt was   clinging to her thighs. No doubt she wanted a  shower after the long   journey from England. To his self-disgust he  pictured her stripping off   her clothes and standing beneath the spray,  smoothing soap over her   flat stomach and then lower …


Heat  surged through him and his nostrils flared. She was glaring up at   him,  clearly incandescent with rage that he had outwitted her, but the    chemistry between them was so intense it was almost tangible, and the    message in her stormy grey eyes was one he could not ignore.

‘Of  course you don't have to leave,' he murmured. ‘I appreciate that   Kazim  is emotionally attached to you, and for his sake it might be   better if  you remained here-at least until he is settled.'

Erin shook her  head so that her curls flew about her face. ‘Wild horses   couldn't drag  me away from him,' she vowed fiercely. ‘I will never,   ever leave him.'

‘In  that case it looks as though we're stuck with each other-but there    could be compensations for our enforced union      ,' he drawled, his   voice  suddenly soft and sensuous, sliding over her and sending a  shiver  of  awareness the length of her spine.

Suddenly he was too close,  although Erin hadn't been aware that he had   moved. She could feel the  heat of his body, and her senses quivered as   she inhaled the exotic musk  of his cologne. He was watching her with   eyes that were suddenly hooded  and slumberous, focusing intently on  her  mouth. She knew what he was  thinking, but reacted seconds too late   when he suddenly lowered his head  towards her.

‘Don't you dare touch me.' The words that had  started out as an angry   cry left her lips as a desperate plea that he  ignored with supreme   arrogance, claiming her mouth in a hard, possessive  kiss that drove   every logical thought from her mind and left nothing  but her   overwhelming awareness of him in its place.

His arms  closed around her, caging her against his hard body, and she   gave a  shocked gasp, muffled beneath his mouth when she felt the rigid   proof of  his arousal nudge insistently between her thighs. She hated   him, she  reminded herself desperately. He was a cheat and a liar, and   his threat  to keep Kazim permanently at the palace was nothing short of   diabolical.  But the determined thrust of his tongue between her lips   was a  temptation she was pathetically powerless to resist, and she   opened her  mouth, allowing him access to her moist inner warmth. He   slid his hand  to her head and released the few remaining pins, and as   her hair  uncoiled in a sheet of rippling red silk down her back he made   a low  feral noise deep in his throat that sent an answering quiver of   desire  through her.

Every lesson she had learned about self-protection  seemed to have   deserted her. Nothing mattered except that she should  assuage the   clamouring need that started low in her pelvis and radiated  out until   every nerve ending was acutely sensitive to the feel of  Zahir's hands   and mouth on her skin. He released her lips, leaving them  stinging and   swollen, and trailed his mouth down her throat and along  her   collarbone, then lower still, his fingers deftly freeing the buttons  of   her blouse to reveal her small round breasts cupped by her lacy bra.

‘Zahir!'  She gave a startled cry when he suddenly lifted her, and the   room  whirled in a kaleidoscope of rich colours before he laid her on   the bed  and came down beside her, one heavy thigh anchoring her to the   satin  bedspread. This was dangerous, and she should stop him now, a   voice in  her head warned. But it was also new and exciting, and when he   trailed  his lips over the swell of her breast she shivered and held   her  breath-wanting more, wanting him to …

He eased her bra cup aside  with long, tanned fingers that contrasted   starkly with her pale flesh.  She heard him mutter something in Arabic   when he exposed her dusky pink  nipple, and for a few seconds he stared   down at her, his eyes glittering  with a fierce hunger, before he   lowered his head and stroked his tongue  delicately over the rosy crest.

Sensation speared her and she  whimpered with pleasure, sliding her   hands to his shoulders and digging  her nails into him in her   desperation for him to continue. She felt weak  and boneless, and when   he drew her nipple fully into his mouth she  arched her back, giving   herself up to the new and exquisite delight of  sexual desire flooding   through her veins.


‘Undress me.'

The  command was a low growl that resonated through her, and when she   lifted  her heavy lids she saw that Zahir's sharp cheekbones were   stained with  dull colour, his face a taut mask of undisguised hunger.   Once again the  voice in her head advised caution, but her body had a   will of its own.  Her fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons until   eventually the last one  was freed, and she pushed the material aside   and ran her hands over  olive-gold skin that felt like satin beneath her   fingertips, while the  mass of black hairs that covered his chest   tickled her palms.