Beauty and the Sheikh(8)

He’d heard what he’d wanted to hear. Made assumptions not only about her manager, but about her. Even after the intimate moments they’d shared, or perhaps because of them. He’d refused to listen to her protests or explanation and instead had delivered that vulgar, emotionally devastating verbal blow.

“Perhaps in your industry it is quite common to trade sex for something you want. But having sampled your offerings, I am afraid I would be getting the short end of the bargain,” he’d said contemptuously. “No, you may not shoot in my country, and I ask that you and your entourage leave at once. Or I will have my police forcefully remove you.”

Holly glanced up at him again, saw the disgust in his eyes and knew he was remembering the same scene.

“You always were an accomplished actress, which is another reason why you’ll do well in the position as my mistress.” He shook his head and gave a weary sigh, gesturing to her chair. “Please, sit down in your chair. You have not yet eaten and I’m quite hungry.”

This time she made no attempt to protest his assumption she’d agree to his offer. How could she do anything but accept? Especially when he’d pretty much admitted he wouldn’t force her to sleep with him. She had no choice but to say yes with Andrew’s freedom depending on it.

Swallowing her pride and tumultuous emotions, she sat back down in the chair. It took every ounce of willpower not to snap out a churlish reply that she wasn’t hungry. “How long will you keep me?”

“Keep you?”

“As your pretend mistress.”

His soft, lazy laugh was so potently masculine and self-assured it sent tingles racing over her skin and resentment rising inside her.

“Until I no longer want you, habiba.”

“As charming as that reply is, I’m going to need a much more definitive answer, Rafiq.”

His laughter died abruptly. “Three months. Or earlier, if my use for you runs its course.”

“Until you find a suitable, biddable wife, you mean?” Her stomach cramped and she lifted her head to cast him a sardonic smile. Three months in his palace. Oh God, could she do it? “Well then, we’ll have to see about finding you a wife quite quickly, won’t we?”

He leaned back in his chair and flashed a smile that displayed perfect, white teeth. “Careful, Holly, or I might begin to think you are jealous.”

Unfortunately, he was entirely too close to the mark, but she’d die before letting him know that. It was ludicrous she’d hold any emotion but resentment for him. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made assumptions.”

Irritation flickered across his face, but she was saved from his response when breakfast was delivered by a handful of servants. An array of food was placed in front of them. Holly glanced over the various cheeses, olives, flat breads, hard-boiled eggs, and beans, and her stomach growled. She hadn’t been hungry, but the mouth-watering smells were rousing her appetite.

She ate a small amount of food, enough to ease her hunger, before her worries once again consumed her. All too soon she pushed her plate away and sipped on strong tea instead.

Rafiq glanced at her plate and then back at her. “Do you not care for the meal?”

“It’s absolutely wonderful.” She could hardly lie, because the food had tasted as amazing as it had smelled.

“You hardly ate a thing.”

“Well, forgive me for not having much of an appetite while knowing my brother sits in your prison.”

“Criminals are treated fairly in my country, Holly. I’m hardly about to have his hand chopped off. But in stealing from me, he made a deliberate choice.” Rafiq paused to lift his tea, bracketing the mug between two hands. “And now you must make yours.”

A laugh of disbelief gurgled from her throat. “What choice? Dammit, I have no choice. You’ve seen personally to that.”

Triumph flickered in his gaze, but his words were calm. “So you agree to my terms?”

Holly closed her eyes. It was a bargain with the devil, and she’d have to be very careful with her heart this time around.

Andrew’s freedom. You’re doing this for your brother’s freedom.

“I agree.”

The words had barely left her mouth before Rafiq barked out something in Arabic. She opened her eyes to a flurry of activity. Plates were being cleared and servants rushed about.

Her stomach clenched. “What’s happening?”

“You said you were no longer hungry.” Rafiq set down his drink and stood. “And since I have a meeting this morning, breakfast is finished.”

She pushed her chair back and stood as well. When he moved to leave the room, she quickly followed after him. Her heart rose in her throat.

“And my brother?”

“Will be free within a few hours.”

“But what guarantee do I have?”

He froze in his brisk stride and turned around to face her. The disbelief and anger blazing in his eyes had her falling back a few steps. “My word is my guarantee, Holly. Do you question my integrity?”

“No, of course not.” But she had. And they both knew it.

Rafiq reached out and cupped her chin, his face just inches from hers and his mouth entirely too close to her lips. Her nerves came alive with anticipation and it was almost as if the air between them crackled with tension.

The quiet in the room hit her. They were alone, all the servants gone, and it was just the two of them.

Her heart began to pound so loud, she waited for him to comment on it.

“Let me be clear about one thing. When I make a promise, I keep it.” He lowered his head so his mouth was just a breath above hers. “I promise to release your brother. I promise I will make love to that decadent body of yours. And then I promise to dismiss you from my life by the time fall comes around.”

The emotions that slammed through her ran the gauntlet. From relief at the promised release of her brother, to the conflicting anger and hot desire at his promise to bed her, and then a soul-searing pain that she would be so easily discarded.

Well, if that’s the way he wanted to play, then she would certainly hold nothing back.

“Let me promise you something in return then, Rafiq. I will never again call you Your Majesty. But I will play the role of your mistress out in public in a performance so damn worthy that you may just find me nominated for a damn Academy Award,” she bit out. “But remember, it will only be a performance. Because I also promise you will never—ever—have me in your bed as your lover.”

It was hard to keep her momentum with his hot breath falling against her mouth.

Rafiq’s laugh was languid and knowing. “I’m going to enjoy making you break that promise, habiba. Almost as much as I will enjoy hearing you beg for my touch.”

A shiver of foreboding ran through her. “You’re delusional.”



Rafiq’s smile hardened. Actually, he was quite sure she was the one deluding herself. But instead of continuing their verbal sparring, which had only succeeding in frustrating and arousing him, he chose to seal their contract with a kiss.

He closed the tiny space that separated them and touched the softness of her lips with his own. She didn’t pull away, but neither did she respond, just kept her mouth pressed as tightly closed as her eyes.

Loving the challenge, knowing he could break her insolence, he brushed a series of soft kisses over her lips. He let his tongue flick out to trace the seam of their lush fullness. Desire accelerated fiercely inside him until the need to touch her, taste her, consumed him. But he restrained it, wanting only to see her give in to this moment, this one touch. For now, it would be enough.

He slid his hand up her back and into the silky softness of her chestnut hair, capturing the strands and holding her still as he increased the pressure of his mouth against hers.

The tremble of her body against his was the first signal he was close to breaking her resistance.

He tilted his head just enough so their mouths melded together perfectly as he traced his finger over the back of her neck. The tension there eased and she moaned softly.

Rafiq used the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth.

The soft mew of pleasure she made was the final indication he’d succeeded in her yielding, but still he didn’t let himself give in to the desire that pulled at his frail willpower. He prided himself on control and he would keep it. He deepened the kiss, abandoning any gentleness now as he tasted her and explored her. Demanding nothing but her entire submission.

And she gave it. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, clinging to him as she kissed him back feverishly, with the skill of a woman who knew how to pleasure.

The blood flowed to his groin and he pressed himself against her, letting Holly feel his arousal. He knew he should release her now, pull back and walk away. Demonstrate some form of control, but as it always had been with her—one taste and it was impossible to let go.