Captivated by the Sheikh: For the Sheikh's Pleasure / In the Sheikh's Arms / Sheikh Surgeon. Annie West
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need to be afraid to express your opinions.’ His voice was calm but there was no mistaking its harsh rasping edge. As if he battled for self-control.
His eyes held hers and she knew he meant it. Relief relaxed her muscles. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, wondering how he’d read her sudden fear. ‘That was insulting.’
‘You should not apologise.’ His words cut across hers. ‘You spoke the truth as you saw it.’
They stared at each other across the narrow space and once more Rosalie could have sworn he understood her confusion and fear. Understood far too much.
‘I regret that you see my interest as cheapening.’ He paused, as if the word left a sour taste. ‘I have always regarded my love affairs as liaisons between equals.’
What could she say? Embarrassment flooded her but she could survive that. She’d survived much worse.
‘Though I suppose,’ he murmured, ‘in this case it would be an unequal relationship.’
He was admitting it? Surely no man was that honest.
‘After all, the power is squarely in your hands.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Surely she was hearing things.
He shrugged those impressive shoulders. ‘Don’t be naïve, Rosalie. I want to become your lover.’ His voice dropped so low that she felt it resonate deep inside, creating a hollow, wanting ache. ‘I’ve said I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I’d stop at a single word.’
His eyes were so bright now they seared her.
‘So that means you have all the power in this relationship. You can ask for what you want. Whatever you want. And I’ll give it to you.’
There was no mistaking the look on his face. Sex. That was what he was talking about.
‘But,’ he continued, ‘you only have to say no and I’d be obliged to stop.’
Rosalie drew in a shaky breath, aware of moist heat blossoming across her skin. She bit her lip, striving for control against the illicit thrill coursing through her.
She shouldn’t want him. She didn’t need any man. Especially one as self satisfied and knowing as this one.
But that didn’t prevent a surge of excitement. She could ask for whatever she wanted. As much or as little as she chose and he’d respect her wishes. She’d be safe.
‘That wouldn’t be right or fair.’ Her voice was breathless, unsteady. ‘It’d be better if I left.’ But how would she find the strength to walk away and not look back?
‘I never took you for a coward, Rosalie.’ His deep voice fell like a stone in the silence between them.
She jerked her head around. ‘Just because I don’t want to play these games doesn’t make me a coward.’
‘Doesn’t it?’ Again one superior eyebrow lifted in query. ‘Then what are you afraid of, if not yourself?’
Rosalie sucked in a breath. She wasn’t afraid. She was cautious. He was far beyond her league.
Why then, did the idea of intimacy with him appeal so much? Why this excitement at the notion of exploring those sensations and cravings she’d so long repressed?
Her mother had hinted it was unhealthy for her to avoid personal contact with men as much as she had. What would her mum say about the unrelenting forces building within her right now? The temptation to say yes?
‘I’m not afraid,’ she lied.
‘Good.’ He leaned towards her till her whole world was encompassed by the brilliance of his dark eyes, the strength of his powerful shoulders blotting out the view and the warmth of his body reaching out to her.
‘It’s not fear I want from you, Rosalie.’ His words were warm against her cheek. But he came no closer. An invisible barrier remained between them. The protection of his promise. Power rested solely in her hands.
Black, burning eyes met hers. The flare of his nostrils told her he registered it too—the faint musky aroma. The scent of arousal. From her skin? From his?
And yet he didn’t move.
‘Ahmed will bring the four-wheel drive soon,’ he said.
Rosalie swallowed and swiped the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. His gaze flickered and held.
‘Is there anything you want before he arrives?’ His words were barely audible over the thunder of her pulse.
‘No. Nothing.’ Yet her voice sounded like a sigh of wind, an echo of the soft waves on the beach.
‘Are you sure?’ he whispered.
She bit her lip to prevent herself from saying anything stupid. Arik was seduction on two legs and she had precious few defences against him. ‘No,’ she muttered again.
‘No, you don’t want anything? Or no, you’re not sure?’
He was close enough for her to feel encompassed by the sheer strength of the man. His hands were planted on either side of her hips, his fingers splayed across the rich fabric of the carpet. His chest was like a wall, pressing her back, despite the fact that he didn’t touch her. His gaze held hers, like a bird enmeshed in a net.
‘I…’ The words died in her throat as she realised what she wanted. What she craved from him.
‘A kiss, perhaps? Just one to satisfy your curiosity?’ His mouth curled up in a smile that stopped her pulse for a beat. ‘Surely you’ve wondered what it would be like, just a simple kiss between us?’
If only he’d looked smug she’d have been able to summon the will-power to push him away. But there was only the glow of invitation in his eyes. The temptation to pleasure in his curving lips.
‘Yes,’ she heard herself whisper on a sigh of surrender. ‘I’ve wondered.’
‘Good,’ he murmured. ‘In that we are equals.’ His smile faded. ‘Relax, Rosalie. You are safe with me.’
He leaned even closer, paused with his mouth an infinitesimal fraction away. He waited long enough for her to absorb the scent of his skin, adjust to the power and heat of his body almost touching hers, for her to taste his breath on her lips and to want more.
Then he slanted his mouth over hers and the world disappeared into a whirling blur as he took her mouth with his.
Chapter Five
SHE kissed like a virgin.
Her lips were soft, pliant, clinging as he brushed his mouth against hers. Yet when he opened his mouth to slide his tongue along her lips she shivered, retreating a little.
So sweet. So enticing. He leaned closer, careful to keep his hands firmly on the floor. This time when he invited her to open for him, her lips moved against his, mimicking the gentle persuasion of his caress.
Instantly a surge of blood shot simultaneously to his head and his groin. A jolt of fire ignited in his belly, blasting his careful restraint to smithereens.
But somehow he managed to contain the compulsion to ravish her mouth, to pull her close to his needy body and plunder her depths.
He coaxed her mouth open, increasing the pressure slowly. Her breath was fresh and warm, her lips like satin, the scent of her skin heady and arousing. There was no artifice about her, not even so much as a manufactured scent. Yet her delicate kisses, her seemingly untutored response, had him clenching his fists against the impulse to throw caution and restraint to the winds and simply take what he wanted.
He’d never known such fierce need. He had to have her. Every atom of his being screamed for her. She was a temptress such as he’d never known before. A houri who seduced not with practised arts but with a tentative, natural eroticism