Australia: In Bed with a Sheikh!: The Sheikh's Seduction / The Sheikh's Revenge / Traded to the Sheikh. Emma Darcy
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and fell to the rhythm of his breathing. The drum of his heart echoed her own. She wanted for nothing. He had given, was still giving, more than she had ever imagined he would.
“Is it enough?” he asked, his voice oddly strained.
It stirred her sluggish mind out of its comfortable haze of pleasure. He had fulfilled her needs, but she simply did not have the experience to know if he was completely satisfied. What if she had been hopelessly inadequate in returning his lovemaking? Should she have been more active towards him instead of being so utterly enthralled by her own feelings? Did he feel short-changed?
“Do you want more?” she asked in reply, her heart fluttering at the thought she had failed him.
His hands splayed possessively over the pit of her back. He gave a funny little laugh. “More and more and more. I would take all you would let me have, Sarah. Until there is no more.”
She smiled, comprehending that he was pleased with what they’d shared and he was looking beyond the moment, further down the path they had taken today.
“Yes,” she agreed, anticipating the filling in of all that had been missing in her knowledge of him. “I want that, too.”
He sighed, his whole body relaxing underneath hers. “So be it then,” he murmured. His arms enfolded her, wrapping her tightly to him as he turned them both onto their sides. His eyes locked onto hers, a glitter of purpose in their dark blue depths. “You stay with me of your own free will,” he stated, commanding her assent.
“Yes,” she answered, thinking he was dismissing the hostage arrangement and making it a purely personal decision to stay with him, not for her father, not for Jessie and the twins, for herself alone, because she wanted to. “Yes,” she affirmed more emphatically.
The glitter flared into the all-consuming blaze of desire she had seen weeks ago when he had challenged her willingness to accept it. Now it was unleashed on her and she revelled in it, meeting his mouth, kissing him as avidly as he kissed her, sealing the new bargain between them.
She didn’t realise that being lovers was all he had in mind, didn’t realise the pact she’d just made had limits, didn’t realise promises would not be given because too much stood in the way of their being kept.
She loved him and felt loved by him.
It was more than enough.
At this moment in time.
ALL MORNING TAREQ had struggled to direct his mind onto the business decisions to be made before the festive season closed everything down. the Persian carpet in front of his desk was a constant distraction. The searing memories of yesterday…last night…continually kicked at the control he was valiantly attempting to assert over the desire that tempted him to toss his responsibilities aside and indulge himself in every possible pleasure with Sarah.
He read the invitation that had come in the mail with a certain amount of cynical amusement. It was addressed to him and was from the Earl and Countess of Marchester. Sarah’s society-minded mother was undoubtedly intent on showing off her daughter’s conquest at a formal dinner on Christmas Eve.
Irrelevant to him whether they attended or not, but it was Christmas, and mothers were mothers. He would be visiting his own, as expected, on Christmas Day. It was up to Sarah to decide what she wanted to do.
I don’t need you to make judgments for me. Nor decisions.
He shook his head over his own misjudgments. Sarah was so young, yet very much a woman who knew her own mind and with courage enough to seize what she wanted and run with it. The passion of her, the wilfulness and wantonness, the intense response from her…Tareq marvelled at it.
The invitation from her mother provided a valid excuse to seek her out, to be where he most wanted to be…with her. “This bit of mail is for Sarah,” he said to Peter Larsen who was diligently scanning other correspondence. “I’ll take it to her.”
Peter looked up, concern drawing his eyebrows together as Tareq rose from his chair. “Is she okay? I do regret having upset her yesterday.”
“Not a problem. In fact, it worked out very well.”
The satisfaction underlining the remark evoked a quizzical look from Peter.
Tareq ignored it. His private life was private. And compellingly attractive. He made a swift decision. “We finish this paperwork today, Peter. Prioritise what absolutely needs to be done. I’m taking time off until we have to prepare for the trip to the homeland. The second week in January should cover the reports my uncle will expect.”
“Suits me,” he agreed, keeping his curiosity contained.
Having released himself from work that could wait, Tareq had an even more buoyant spring in his step as he went in search of Sarah. He found her in the sitting room, curled up on the sofa closest to the hearth where a cosy fire was alight. She was reading a book and he noted a pile of books on the table next to the sofa.
So engrossed was she in the story, his entrance had gone unnoticed, and he paused before disturbing her, remembering her scathing comment about giving her dolls to play with. He was well aware Sarah was far too intelligent to be content with a frivolous life. Nursing a child with Jessie’s disabilities had obviously been rewarding and the time would come when she would crave another challenging occupation.
Time…it was always going to be the enemy for them. The thought stirred an urgent greed for all he could take now, while it was new and good and untainted by the conflicts that would inevitably part them.
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