Christmas Bride For The Sheikh. Carol Marinelli
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‘Why?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
Flo hadn’t told anyone.
Not a single soul.
Yet his eyes looked right into hers and his smile was non-judgmental and kind.
But, no, she would not be telling him.
‘So are you off all men?’
She swallowed because just a short while ago her response would have been an unequivocal yes.
Except he was ravishing.
And funny.
But mainly he was ravishing.
His eyes weren’t a uniform grey—this close she could see there were little flecks of green and amber.
‘I think so.’
‘Isn’t it a bit extreme?’ he asked. ‘To hide yourself away...?’
‘Perhaps,’ Flo said. ‘Yes.’
‘Would you like another drink?’ he offered.
‘No, thank you.’ She glanced at his empty glass. ‘Can I get you one?’
She was frantic to get some control here—to go and stand at the bar again so she could remind herself how to breathe, but Hazin would not let her get away that easily.
‘I don’t drink,’ he said. ‘I can have your friend’s soda water. It doesn’t look as if she’s going to show.’
‘No.’
She looked around the bar and wondered what to do. Perhaps Maggie had changed her mind about letting Ilyas know about the baby.
Flo felt a little lost without her phone.
And then she saw him.
Her ex.
The reason why she had been hiding for so long.
Bastard.
She flicked her eyes away from her past and back at Hazin.
At least this man didn’t pretend he wasn’t one.
‘Are you okay?’ Hazin asked, because he didn’t usually lose his audience.
‘My ex is here,’ Flo said, and she held her breath as out of the corner of her eye she saw him make his way over.
Hazin watched her very pretty face pale rather than flush and he knew she’d been badly hurt.
And then he knew why.
Hazin was a regular here and had watched this creep pick up someone on one night and bring his wife for a meal the next.
Hazin might be wild now, but he had been married once and he’d taken his vows seriously, so, when it was clear from her panicked silence that she could not deal with her ex, Hazin was more than happy to.
‘Flo’s busy,’ Hazin said in a surly tone. ‘Please leave.’
‘Now look here—’ the man started, but then Hazin stood up.
‘I did ask politely,’ Hazin said and Flo could not believe there was about to be a fight.
What the hell?
He was more than up for a fight, but instead he gestured with his head for Marcus.
‘I just want to speak to Flo,’ the man insisted.
‘Well, you can’t,’ Hazin said, ‘because, as of now, you are barred from this establishment.’
It was Marcus’s problem now because, as Flo’s ex loudly protested as he was steered away, Hazin took his seat again. ‘He shan’t trouble you again,’ Hazin said. ‘At least, not when you’re here.’
The shadow in the room was gone and she experienced the giddy feeling of some measure of retribution at last.
Now Flo examined him and no longer did she hide that fact.
And Hazin did the same.
She was used to the roaming of male eyes over her body but his eyes did not leave her face.
And yet his gaze was indecent.
He traced the curves of her lips with his eyes so thoroughly that Flo fought not to run her tongue over them.
It felt as if he studied each eyelash in turn until she silently pleaded for him to fully meet her gaze.
Then when he did it was fire versus fire.
Beneath the table, she could envision his spread knees for they seemed to encircle hers, which were pressed tightly together. She could feel their surrounding warmth and almost craved the tight pressure of his grip.
‘I think I should go,’ Flo said, because it was clear Maggie wasn’t going to show.
‘I can’t hear you.’
Liar, liar, Flo thought as she gazed deep into his eyes, for here in the booth they were sequestered from the thrumming noise of the bar.
She could say it a little louder, reach for her purse and leave, or she could lean in a little closer to that delicious mouth and repeat what she had just said.
Or she could simply make the complicated so terribly easy.
Flo chose the latter—‘Come and sit by me, then.’
No, she didn’t want another drink, or conversation; she wanted this...
His kiss.
IT FELT AS if the oxygen masks had tumbled out on the plane, for even before he was seated she reached up for his tie and pulled him in.
The attraction had been instant, the effect close up magnetic, for they were so strongly drawn to each other that first contact offered Flo a heady feeling of relief. Hazin lowered his head and their mouths met before he was even fully seated. His lips were warm and Flo’s pouted to his.
Soft and sensual, his mouth claimed hers as he slid into the booth beside her.
She had never known a kiss like it, for it sent a river of shivers through her and the brief bliss of relief faded for she had to taste his tongue, yet Hazin made her wait. His hands came to her upper arms and he held her steady when she ached to lean into him.
Still no tongue, just the bruising of his mouth and a breathless rush of desire in an outwardly chaste kiss. Then his mouth left hers and she felt its warm drag against her cheek and the scratch of his jaw as his lips found her ear. His breath was warm and he told her his truth. ‘I want you so badly.’
His voice was so loaded with lust that it sounded as if he were already inside her.
Her sex clenched to his words.
She had no resolve.
None.
For a second she sat, his cheek pressed to hers, his ragged sexy breathing in her ear and his hands firm on her arms, and Flo closed her eyes in a vague prayer for common sense to prevail.
It didn’t.
Fired on by one kiss, her body crackled like a chip in hot oil and she offered her response to his indecent request. ‘Take me to bed.’
As soon as the night air hit her, sense would appear, Flo reassured herself as they stood. He took her by the hand and she was rather glad for the support as he led her through the bar.
But not to the street.
No cool air to hit her.
No car or taxi to calm her mind.
They were in an elevator. He hit the button and