Shackled to the Sheikh(35)

And then he’d started appearing in the gossip columns, his wild parties, expensive toys and the countless women he dated—dated being a euphemism—making him infamous. One time, he had even come close to marrying a Russian supermodel.

In short, his life now was spheres away from hers.

“Before you read something into this—” she sensed his sardonic smile rather than seeing it “—it’s like putting a tarp on my Ferrari or a fresh coat of paint on my yacht, Jasmine. It’s about protecting my possessions.”

A gasp escaped her at how effortlessly cruel he was. “I still don’t want it.”

“Fine, freeze to your death, then.”

He pushed the helmet over her head. With precise movements, he tugged the ends of the strap together tight around her chin. Jasmine jerked at the touch of his long fingers against her jaw and cheeks, a searing heat stroking her skin. The click of the strap reverberated in tune with the thud of her heart.

“I don’t need—”

“I’m very possessive of all my toys.”

She slapped his hand away from her chin, her rising temper drowning out the confusion. With movements as measured as she could make them, she got on the bike.

“I’m not a bloody toy that you acquired. You’re just as bad as the lot of them.”

Her words got cut off as the bike started with a sleek purr, pulled off like a cannon and the momentum almost threw her off the backseat.

The very real risk of flying off the bike claiming her, Jasmine held on to his shoulders, taking care to not touch him more than necessary.

A distinct sense of unease settled between her shoulder blades. What had she risked by trusting a man who had no loyalty, who thought his roots were nothing but a dirty stain that had to be removed?