Surrender in the Arms of the Sheikh: Exposed: The Sheikh's Mistress / Stolen by the Sheikh / Fit For a Sheikh. Trish Morey
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disgusting!’
‘You have grown fiery,’ he observed, noticing that she had chosen not to answer the question—though his arrogant pride would not allow him to believe that she would melt for another man in quite the way she did for him. ‘Very fiery. Yes. I like that in a woman.’
‘But I’m not looking for your approval. I have grown up, Hashim—I’m no longer the docile young girl who thought you were the greatest thing since sliced bread!’
It was both the right thing and the wrong thing to say, for while it burst the strangely seductive bubble of thwarted desire, it reminded him of her lying and cheating and duplicity.
‘Yes, so docile,’ he hissed like a rattlesnake. ‘So young and so innocent! Like hell you were.’
She stared at the stark condemnation which was sparking from his eyes. He had judged her, and found her wanting. And, damn him, he was right—she was still wanting. Wanting him. ‘Oh, Hashim, I was innocent in so many ways,’ she said, her voice sad now. ‘Why don’t we forget the whole thing? Let me just walk out of this door right now and out of your life for ever.’
Was she mad? Did she not recognise his intent, nor realise that when he desired something it was always his for the taking? His mouth hardened. No, of course she hadn’t recognised it—how could she when she had never seen it before? Her experience with him had been bizarre—and unique. Five years ago he had found himself bewitched by her and he had tempered his usual autocratic wishes—except that it had seemed to happen without any conscious effort on his part.
Now let her see the real Hashim! Who treated women as they liked to be treated! If you were cold and disdainful it seemed to make them want you more—never was a woman more giving in the bedroom than to a man who had treated her with contempt.
‘I think you forget yourself,’ he said icily. ‘I have hired your services and therefore you will behave as such. You will show me respect and listen to my wishes.’
‘Respect?’ she echoed. ‘Are you out of your mind?’
‘Yes, respect,’ he ground out. ‘That is if you know the meaning of the word.’
Sienna blinked as a tremor of fear ran through her. Surely he didn’t think… didn’t think… She drew in a deep breath. Appeal to his sense of reason, she told herself. He is a powerful and successful man, and surely he will understand that it would be folly to extend this torturous interview for a second longer than necessary.
‘Hashim,’ she said quietly. ‘You can’t honestly expect me to organise a party for you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because… because there’s too much history between us!’
‘Now you flatter yourself,’ he bit back. ‘A few shared outings does not qualify as history. Nor does the fact that you opened your legs for me.’ He saw her face drain of all colour, but he pressed on ruthlessly. ‘But it is your reputation that has excited my interest.’ He paused deliberately. ‘Your reputation is admirable, Sienna—at least in a purely professional sense. Your work is highly regarded and I want you to organise a party for me.’
‘Want or demand?’ she questioned.
‘The interpretation is yours.’
‘And if I refuse?’ she questioned quietly.
‘Don’t go there,’ he warned softly.
‘I have nothing to lose by turning you down.’ And everything to gain. Like her sanity.
‘You don’t think so? On what grounds? And could you cope with the consequences of your action?’
Sienna wrinkled her nose. ‘Consequences?’
‘Sure. I would inform the manager here of my extreme displeasure that you had reneged on an agreement. How would you explain it to him? Do tell, for it fascinates me.’ The black eyes challenged her.
Appeal to him. Ask him nicely. And even though the words threatened to choke her, she got them out. ‘I’m hoping it won’t come to that, Hashim.’
But he carried on as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Would you explain that I’d once felt you climax beneath my fingers? I’m sure he’d be very interested to hear that—it might even turn him on—but do you think it qualifies you to refuse my request?’
‘Don’t be so disgusting!’
‘That’s twice you’ve used that word,’ he mused. ‘You think sexuality is disgusting? How you surprise me—since your own must have earned you a great deal.’ Had she blown all the money? he wondered. And why in hell hadn’t she capitalised more? Used that amazing body to make herself a small fortune? Become rich by exploiting her fabulous breasts, instead of fixing up other people’s parties?
Sienna tried one last time. ‘You are right—my reputation is good and well-established. So much so that I can afford to turn you down!’
‘People will hear—for I will make sure of it. And they will wonder and ask you why. What will you say to them? Will you lie, Sienna? Stupid question— of course you will!’
She shook her head. ‘I could say that we dated a couple of years ago—I could… pretend.’ She stumbled on her ironic use of the word. ‘Pretend that I would find it too painful to work for you.’
‘And you will look foolish.’
‘I can live with that.’
‘You may not have the luxury of making that decision.’ A look of determination hardened his eyes to jet. ‘Either you work for me or your career is over. That much you can believe.’
There was a pause. ‘This is London—in the twenty- first century,’ she told him, her voice rising in disbelief. ‘Not some desert kingdom where your word is law! You may be a rich and powerful man, but in the end you’re just a client. Same as any other,’ she finished defiantly.
Her spirit and resistance was making his hunger grow—did she not realise that either? ‘You can stand there and attempt to argue with me all day, but it will make no difference in the end. For I mean what I say, Sienna—if you do not accept this commission, then I will ruin you.’
‘Ruin me?’ Her laugh was high, and slightly hysterical. ‘Even if you could—’ Something was beginning to tell her that his threat was not an idle one. ‘Even if you could—why would you?’
‘Because you are like a dark stain in my memory,’ he breathed. ‘An encounter I should never have had, but which I cannot close the book on until it has been brought to its rightful conclusion.’
The meaning of his words was beginning to sink in, but Sienna didn’t quite believe it—didn’t dare believe it. She could hear the deafening pound of her heartbeat. ‘And what conclusion is that?’
There was a pause, and he captured her eyes in mocking taunt. ‘You only have to say the word, Sienna, and we can have an action replay. We can put an end to the business we started five years ago.’ Deliberately he stroked his palm down the muscular flank of his thigh and his eyes became narrowed, opaque. ‘Like right now, if you like.’
His heartless words tore into her and Sienna recoiled from the blatant sexuality which shimmered from him like a halo. ‘Are you suggesting …suggesting that I go to bed with you?’
‘I’m not particularly fussy about the venue,’ he drawled, and nodded his dark head in the direction of a sumptuous scarlet velvet chaise-longue. ‘That might provide a stimulating setting, don’t you think? Ever done it on one of those?’
The question made her feel cheap, but presumably that had been his intention. ‘You have to be out of your mind,’ she breathed.
‘My mind has nothing to do with it,’ he said silkily.