Beauty and the Sheikh(16)
She’d done that on purpose, he realized as she left. She knew exactly how amazing she looked in that tiny swimsuit, had strutted out to give him an eyeful, and then left. Knowing full well he’d be stuck in the suite and she would be enjoying the beach.
Just as you basically ordered her to do. Dammit. He would’ve been amused if he weren’t kicking himself right now. He’d personally selected the bikini, envisioning him being the one to enjoy the results, not the entire population of beach goers in Monaco. And then she’d thrown that little taunt about perhaps taking off her top.
He didn’t believe her, not for a moment. But still, the possibility sent the blood pounding thick and volatile through his veins.
Rafiq groaned and turned back to his email but then hesitated and picked up his mobile instead. When his assistant answered his call, he said, “I need you to pick out the most—I don’t want to say the word ‘hideous’—but shall we say, ‘plain’ one-piece swimsuit you can find.”
Rafiq had just closed his laptop when the door to the penthouse opened. The stress from the past hour had made him put his thoughts of Holly on hold, but she resurfaced to the forefront as she strode in, blotting her hair with the towel. His gaze slid over her and disappointment pricked that she’d tied a sarong over her hips. Still, he could appreciate the swell of her breasts against the damp bikini top.
“Did you enjoy your swim?”
She started, having apparently not seen him on the leather chair in the corner of the suite.
“I did. The beach was lovely.” She pressed her towel against her front.
“I was sorry I could not join you. I think I would’ve enjoyed a swim myself.”
She didn’t back away, but he sensed she wanted to. “Well, all work and no play is your motto, I assume.”
“Something along those lines. Except when I make time to play.” He let the slight innuendo hang in the air. “Would you like a drink, Holly? A martini?”
“I don’t like hard alcohol, thank you.”
“Wine, then?”
“No. If you don’t mind, I’d simply like to take a shower and wash the sunblock off my skin.”
The image of Holly naked in the luxurious double-headed shower had all sorts of thoughts racing through his head. And none of them had to do with the problems arising with the plans for adding a second casino to Raljahar’s landscape.
Just inches from her, he couldn’t resist a lazy smile. “By all means, habiba. Would you care for company?”
“Not from you.”
Rafiq’s smile hardened and he ignored the small stab of pain her sharp remark evoked. No, never him—at least, not when there wasn’t something she needed in return. “Not from any other man, either. At least not for the next few months, in case you need the reminder.”
Her expression turned strangely empty and she seemed to stare at a point beyond his shoulder. “No, I don’t need the reminder. You’ve made it quite clear I’m essentially your property for the duration of the agreement, Rafiq.”
“Yes, you are.” He slid a hand out to cup the back of her neck, waiting until she focused her gaze on him again. He needed to see reaction in her eyes again. Some emotion. The emptiness sent alarm racing through his blood. “And I am very possessive of what belongs to me.”
Ah, there it was—the spark of resentment. It wasn’t desire, but he knew how quickly he could convert it to what he wanted.
“Go take your shower, Holly.”
He wanted to be alone again—he functioned better alone, anyway. The business with his deal nearly falling through had rattled him, and his nerves had yet to recover from how close he’d come to losing control in the limo earlier.
He’d almost taken her right then and there. Had they not arrived at the hotel he would’ve likely stripped her of the rest of her clothes and taken her on the leather seats. He wanted her with a ferocity unequaled to any woman he’d been with, stronger even than back when he’d been young and unflawed and had had women falling at his feet.
Holly had wanted him in the limo as well; there was no denying it. But once she’d regained her composure she’d withdrawn emotionally and frozen him out.
Rafiq’s mouth twisted. If he wanted Holly in his bed, then he would have to seduce her, because she only offered her body when she had something to gain. Any doubts he’d had were eradicated when she’d freely admitted it.
He couldn’t help but wonder, how often had she made love to other men in the back of a limo? In their penthouse suite at some posh hotel?
The idea of Holly with another man, seducing him for her own benefit, created something dark and ugly inside him.
For a moment he regretted not asking for more in their bargain, exchanging her brother’s freedom literally for the pleasure of her body. But that would have been a tasteless trade. He might not be the man he once was, but he was still Rafiq al Hakimi, Sheikh of Raljahar. He’d never paid or bargained for sex, and he would not start with Holly.
No, when she was beneath him in his bed, screaming his name, it would be because she wanted to be there. And despite his barbed parting comment, he had very little doubt it would happen, because when he touched Holly her response was all hot-blooded woman.
Hearing the shower turn on, Rafiq closed his eyes but could not stop the image of her naked body beneath the sluice of water.
His blood stirred and he bit back a savage curse. Would it never end, this constant need to possess her? No, he realized, it wouldn’t. Not until he’d bedded her. Only then would be able to rid her from his system.
Rafiq turned away from the bathroom and strode through the lavish penthouse to the balcony that overlooked the sea. Outside, gripping the railing, he drew in a slow breath of coastal air while taking in the various glittering shades of blue of the Mediterranean Sea. He loved his home in the desert with its raw, primitive beauty, but the ocean was a spectacular sight he never tired of, which was why he kept one of his vacation homes on the French Riviera. Perhaps he would take Holly there as well in the coming months.
The thought reminded him of the first time he’d planned to take her there, and it dampened his mood even more.
A sharp knock sounded on the door to the penthouse suite and with a reluctant sigh, Rafiq turned and went to answer it.
“Your Majesty.” One of his assistant’s bowed, her gaze lowered. “I have brought the personnel you’ve requested.”
“Thank you. Please, come in.” He stepped back and gestured for the woman and the two ladies behind her to enter.
“What’s going on?”
Footsteps sounded behind him and Rafiq turned to find Holly standing in the doorway. The white, plush hotel robe was cinched around her tiny waist and her hair fell heavy and wet over her shoulders. She was hardly petite, and yet the one word that flitted through his mind was fragile.
“Ah, Holly, this is Minnah. She is the daughter to one of my advisors and she has brought with her someone who will be able to tend to your beauty needs. Nails, hair—whatever you want, they are at your disposal.” He gave a dismissive wave and glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting, but tonight we will be dining with an investor. I will trust you to be ready by seven and meet us in the restaurant downstairs. Understood, habiba?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Rafiq blinked. Surely she couldn’t resent this gift of pampering? Even if so, how foolish was she to respond so disrespectfully in front of the ladies he’d hired on her behalf? “Of course you do. This is an indulgence, hardly a punishment.”
“Indulgence.” She gave a small, humorless laugh and looked away. “Don’t worry, Rafiq, I will be ready.”
“I have little doubt otherwise.” He crossed the room and lowered his mouth just above hers, sliding a possessive hand to her hip in the appearance of a lovers’ embrace. “You forget we have an audience. Never question me like that again when we are not alone.”
His intimate tone guaranteed only she heard, and it seemed she hadn’t realized how harmful her public defiance had been because she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.
“I’m sorry,” she said on a breath.
Instead of continuing the quiet discussion, he pressed his lips against hers in a long, deliberate kiss. When he lifted his eyes, he stared down at her and found her lashes lowered and her mouth parted. A wave of triumph swept through him, because he knew with pure male instinct that she was not faking, even with their audience.
“I will see you at dinner.” He turned and left the suite.
“I have to admit I had my doubts, Sheikh, that my investment in your vision would pay off.”
Rafiq offered a slight smile at Byron Olsen and lifted his glass of brandy, taking another sip. Without investors such as the wealthy oil tycoon from America, Raljahar may very well have fallen into ruin.
“But now, a decade later, your little country is thriving. I hear it’s quite the popular destination for not only the Europeans, but the rich Americans as well.” The man leaned forward and grinned. “Tell me, Sheikh, is that how you were reacquainted with Miss Winchester?”