Lucy and the Sheikh(15)
He frowned. “This isn’t Disneyland, Lucy, nor Hollywood; it’s not a sanitized version of Arabia.”
“I know. But not every visitor will want ‘authenticity’. They want a holiday in the sun with a bit of difference.”
The frown disappeared. “You’re correct, of course.” He sat back, his fist rubbing his lips as he focused his dark eyes on her. The dappled shade of the overhead leaves made it hard to read his thoughts. But, given the long pause, and the slight upward tilt of his lips, it was no doubt along the same, errant lines, as herself. “There are places I can arrange to have you taken.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. She didn’t want a member of his staff showing her around. She needed him. She needed to be alert for a slip in his speech, she needed to learn of his needs and desires. She needed him. He was the key to finding Maia.
She hesitated only briefly before leaning toward him. “You said you wanted to get to know me, Razeen. What better opportunity than showing me your country?”
His face didn’t change expression; he continued to stare at her. She willed herself not to blink, not to blush, not to reveal how much was riding on his answer. Then his face relaxed into a faint, tense smile.
“You’re right, again.” He didn’t lean forward toward her. Hesitatingly, self consciously, Lucy sat back in her chair. She’d made an advance and it hadn’t been accepted. “Meanwhile, I have work to complete. I’ll take you back to your room and I’ll have someone bring you to me later. I’ll take you round Sitra this afternoon, if you wish?
“That would be great, thanks.”
“Or perhaps you would like to rest? I believe you didn’t get much sleep last night.”
She grinned. “I’m used to it. I don’t sleep well.”
“Too many mid-night swims perhaps.”
“That and too many vivid dreams.”
“Me also.” He held her gaze with an intensity of need that both scared and mesmerized her. The silence between them stretched too long to continue with polite conversation. He rose and extended his hand to hers. She accepted it and he pulled her to him. Slowly, so slowly he placed both his hands over hers and brought them to his lips. Such an old-fashioned gesture, yet the effect of the pressure of his lips against her skin was anything but tame. She pulsed deep inside, her body reacting to his touch like a slackly strung cello string played long and low: vibrating, in tune, shivering under his touch. Her body felt his touch long after his hands had left her. “Lucy Gee. Where did you come from?” His voice was gravelly with lust.
“From out of the blue.”
“And is that where you’ll disappear to?”
She nodded, trying to focus on his words when all her body wanted to do was focus on his body. “I have two weeks before I return.”
“Two weeks.” He said slowly. “That’s convenient. Come. I’ll take you back to your room.” He took her by the hand and led her out into brilliant sunshine.
Her body and mind were in turmoil. She couldn’t deny the attraction that did more than simmer between them. Everything about him set her on fire: from the firm grip of his hand on hers, to the intensity of his gaze and the memory of last night’s kiss. But this was the man whom Maia has fallen for, with whom she had been last seen. Was she going to follow in her sister’s footsteps and be the next to disappear in this medieval foreign land?
With each step she took beside him, with each subtle shift and squeeze of his fingers against her skin, the answer became more certain. Yes, she was. Because her body couldn’t deny him and because it was the only way to find Maia.
The return to her room was much quicker than the route she’d taken. At her door he halted, gave her hand a sweeping caress with his thumb before dropping it to her side. “I look forward to showing you around later.”
“Do you always take such care of your employees?”
Again that smile. “No. Nor do I give them a bedroom suite so close to mine.”
She fumbled with the door handle, suddenly unable to face him, or the fact that the blatant sexual vibe between them wasn’t only on her side. He wanted her too. He was imagining them picking up where they left off, just as she was. Having the undercurrents suddenly thrust out into the open should have made her realize how impossible the situation was. But all she could think about was how close he was to her.
Before she could open the door, he’d slid his fingers under her chin and brought her lips to his. Her heart pounded once, twice, from lust and something else she refused to contemplate: the guilt could wait. He held his lips to hers, barely moving her mouth for seconds, as if he were testing her, rather than tasting her. Slowly she slipped under his spell, her eyelids flickering closed as her senses sunk under the power of his touch.