'Here is your copy of my projections,' she said, forcing her mind back to business before closing her file to signify the end of the meeting.
'I have my own projections, thank you.'
She bridled at that before reminding herself that just a murmur from the Black Sheikh could rock a government, and that his envoy was hardly going to be a pushover when it came to negotiations.
'Before we finish, there's just one here on the second page,' he said, leaning towards her.
'I see it,' she said, stiffening as she tried to close her mind to Emir's intoxicating scent. And those powerful hands...the suppleness in his fingers...the strength in his wrists...
He caught her staring and she started blushing again. This was ridiculous. She was acting like a teenager on her first date.
Exhaling shakily, she sat back in the chair determined to recover the situation, but Emir was on a roll.
'You seem to have missed something here,' he said, pointing to another paragraph.
She never missed anything. She was meticulous in all her business dealings. But sure enough, Emir had found one tiny thing she had overlooked.
'And this clause can go,' he said, removing it with a strike of his pen.
'Now, just a minute-' She stared aghast as Emir deconstructed her carefully drawn-up plan. 'No,' she said firmly. 'That clause does not go, and neither does anything else without further discussion, and this part of the meeting is over.'
He sat back in his chair as she stood up, which explained why she wasn't ready for him moving in front of her to stand in her way.
'You seem upset,' he said. 'And I don't want the first part of our meeting to end badly.'
'Bringing in investors is a big step for me to take-'
'Britt-'
Emir's touch on her skin was like an incendiary device, but the fact that his hand was on her arm at all was an outrage. 'Let me go,' she warned softly, but they both heard the shake in her voice. And surely Emir could feel her trembling beneath his touch. He must feel the heated awareness in her skin.
He murmured something in his own language. It might as well have been a spell. She turned to look at him, not keen to go anywhere suddenly.
'It seems to me we have a timing problem, Britt. But there is a solution, if you will allow me to take it?'
Emir's eyes were dark and amused. At first she thought she must have misunderstood him, but there was no mistake, and the solution he was proposing had been in her mind for some time. But surely no civilised businessman would be willing to enter into such a risky entanglement within an hour of meeting her?
As Emir's hand grazed her chin she moved into his embrace, allowing him to turn her face up to his. This was no meeting between business colleagues. This was a meeting between a man and woman who were hot for each other, and the man was a warrior of the desert.
Emir promised pleasure. He also promised a chance to forget, and, for however short a time, the prospect of that seemed preferable at this moment to doing battle endlessly on every front. How would it feel to have this big man hold her and bring her pleasure? She must have swayed towards him, for the next thing she knew he was holding her in front of him.
'Why, Britt,' he said with amusement. 'If I'd known how badly you wanted this I'm sure we could have arranged something before the meeting.'
Emir's blunt approach should have shocked her-annoyed her-but instead it made her want him all the more, and as he brushed her lips with his she found herself instantly hungry, instantly frantic, for more pressure, more intimacy, and for everything to happen fast.
But Emir was even more experienced than she had realised, and now he took pleasure in subjecting her to an agonising delay. As the clock ticked, the tension built and he held her stare with his knowing and faintly amused look. She guessed Emir knew everything about arousal, and could only hope it wouldn't be long before he decided she had suffered enough. She voiced a cry of relief when he cupped her face in his warm, slightly roughened hands, and another when her patience was rewarded by a kiss that began lightly and then brutally mimicked the act her body so desperately craved.
It was in no way subjugation by a powerful man, but the meeting of eager mates, a fierce coupling between two people who knew exactly what they wanted from each other, and as Emir pressed her back against the boardroom table and set about removing her clothes she gasped in triumph and began ripping at his.
He tossed her jacket aside. She loosened his tie and dragged it off, letting it drop onto the floor. As he ripped her blouse open she battled with the buttons on his shirt. She exclaimed with pleased surprise when he lifted her and she clung to him as he stripped off her tights and her briefs. Suddenly it was all about seeing who could rid themselves of any barriers first. She was mindless sensation-hot flesh brushing, touching, cleaving, in a tangle of limbs and hectic breathing, while Emir remained calm and strong, and certain. He felt so good beneath her hands...so very good-
Too good! You have never felt like this about a man before-
Danger! This man can change your life-
You won't walk away from this with a smile on your face-
Using sheer force of will, she closed off her annoying inner voice. She wanted this. She needed it. This was her every fantasy come true. Even now as Emir took time to protect them both she saw no reason not to follow her most basic instinct. Why shouldn't she? Emir was-
Emir was enormous. He was entirely built to scale. Was she ready for this?
He made her forget everything the moment he caressed her breasts. Moaning, she rested back and let him do what he wanted with her. Just this once she wanted to feel that she didn't have to lead or fight. Just this once she could be the woman she had always dreamed of being-the woman who was with a man who knew how to please her.
And I wonder what he thinks about you-
To hell with what he thinks about me, she raged silently.
To hell with you, don't you mean?
CHAPTER THREE
BRITT WAS BEAUTIFUL and willing and he had needs. Willing? She was a wild cat with a body that was strong and firm, yet voluptuous. Her breasts were incredible, up-tilted and full, and he took his time to weigh them appreciatively, smiling when she groaned with pleasure as he circled her nipples very lightly with his thumbnails. She was so responsive, so eager that her nipples had tightened and were thrusting towards him, pink and impertinent, and clearly in need of more attention. He aimed to please. Kissing her neck, he travelled down, part of him already regretting that they had wasted so much time. She shuddered with desire as he blazed a trail through the dust she had collected when she changed her tyre. 'You're clean now,' he said, smiling into her lust-dazed eyes.
She laughed down low in her throat in a way he found really sexy, and then weakened against him as she waited for him to continue his sensory assault.
'Shall I take the edge off your hunger?' he offered.
'Yours too,' she insisted huskily.
'If that's what you want, you tell me what you'd like.'
Her gaze flicked up and her cheeks flushed pink. She wasn't sure whether to believe him or not.
'I'm serious,' he said quietly.
'Please-'
As she appealed to him he decided that the time he had allowed for this visit to Skavanga wouldn't be enough. He ran his fingers lightly over her beautiful breasts before moving on to trace the swell of her belly. Lifting her skirt, he nudged her thighs apart. She made it easy for him, so he repaid her gesture by delicately exploring the heated flesh at the apex of her thighs. When she whimpered with pleasure it was all he could do to hold back. So much for his much-vaunted self-control, he mused, as Britt thrust her hips towards him, trying for more contact. He wanted nothing more than to take her now. Clutching his arms, she tilted herself back against the table, moaning with need. Opening her legs a little more for him, she showed him a very different woman from the one in the starchy photograph he had examined in London, but this was the woman he had suspected Britt was hiding all along.
'You're quite clinical about this, aren't you?' Britt panted in a rare moment of lucidity as he watched her pleasure.
Duty could do that to a man. He never let himself go. Growing up the second son of the third wife had hardly been to his advantage as a youth. He had been forced to watch the cruelty inflicted on his people by those closer to the throne than he was on a daily basis. So, yes, he was cold. He'd had to be to overthrow tyrants that were also his relatives. There was no room now in his life for anything other than the most basic human appetite.
'Don't make me wait,' Britt was begging him.