Son Of The Sheikh. Ryshia Kennie
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Название: Son Of The Sheikh
Автор: Ryshia Kennie
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Intrigue
isbn: 9781474061971
isbn:
But as he reentered the lobby, a scream rose above the alarms and the sirens of the emergency vehicles that had just arrived.
A woman charged through the throng of people, heading straight toward him.
“Everett!” she screamed.
She was a petite whirlwind. She was moving so fast, so ferociously, that there was little doubt that she was emotionally invested, that the child was hers. There was also no doubt that he knew her.
He allowed the child to be plucked from his arms. She held the boy so tightly that he began to cry, but it was the panicked look in her gray eyes and a vision from long ago that registered with Talib. He shoved the disconcerting memory away. What mattered most was getting the two of them out of here. Smoke still filled the area. Firefighters were just entering the lobby and were already directing the remaining guests outside.
“Let’s go,” he ordered. It didn’t matter why she was here or even who she’d been to him. He needed to get her and the boy he assumed was her son to safety.
“What were you doing with him?” she demanded. Her eyes pinned his like a thick gray mist and were the first warning that she was dangerously angry.
It was similar to the last time he’d seen those eyes.
Except, the last time she had only recently left the bed that was still warm from their lovemaking. He remembered that she’d given him a dreamy look and told him that she loved him. He didn’t like to think about that moment, for he wasn’t proud of how he’d reacted.
It hadn’t gone well after that, after what he had said.
She’d been proud and angry and told him what she’d thought of him, which hadn’t been at all flattering. He’d said nothing, for there’d been nothing to say. Every word she’d spoken had been the truth. After that, he’d driven her home in a car that was thick with silence. He was sorry, but at the time what he had told her had been the truth. It was what he’d told every woman who’d fancied him. He wasn’t ready to settle down, be serious, or declare undying love for anyone. He doubted that he ever would. Unfortunately, he’d told her that. It was then that she had tried to kill him with a look deadlier than he’d ever seen. Then, she’d managed to chip the custom paint job on that year’s vehicle when she’d kicked the door with one tiny, stiletto-clad foot. To her credit, he didn’t think it was deliberate. But he had his doubts. Especially because she’d done all that while telling him in a deadly calm voice that he could go to a place where it was just a bit hotter than the Sahara in midsummer.
It hadn’t been his best breakup.
“Sara?”
The voice was filled with that deep, commanding ring that she had never forgotten. It peeled back the layers of panic, penetrated the emotional chaos of losing Everett and her maternal fussing that she couldn’t stop. For the first time that tone, that sense of self and of control, didn’t grate, but instead was a life raft in a sea of insanity. The tone cut through everything and his presence broke easily through the crowd. She knew his voice like she knew her own heartbeat, would always know it, could never forget it.
He was back and he’d brought her son, when she had thought that her baby was lost. There was only one thing important in this moment—getting Everett out of the hotel.
“Are you all right, baby?”
She ran her hands over her child as if she expected to find a fatal wound, a broken bone or some injury equally as threatening. There was nothing. Only a nose that was running and eyes that were red and, oddly, a smile on his face.
She fumbled in her pocket for a tissue, pulled it out and wiped her son’s nose, not slowing her stride as she headed for the door. Everett pulled away to look over her shoulder and what he saw made him giggle. At least her son was finding some amusement in a situation that was causing her empty stomach to want to heave. She clutched him tighter and walked faster.
Talib.
She could feel him right behind her and to her left. He wasn’t saying anything, but his presence was insuring that there was no delay in exiting the building.
She hadn’t seen him since that fateful summer almost three years ago. She’d hoped never to see him again and yet here she was looking for his help.
Despite coming here to find him, she hadn’t been prepared for it to happen like this. Just his presence brought back all the hurt. She’d been afraid of that. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place. There’d been many reasons, but that one had trumped them all. But she’d had no choice. She was here, with him right behind her. The hurt flooded back strong enough to steal her breath, like a tsunami from which she could never escape and with it came the anger.
Her heart pounded. For even after the years that had stretched between them, he affected her. He’d been a first-class jerk and one wasn’t apt to forget such a man. But now there was one other thing that she wasn’t apt to forget. He’d saved the most important thing in her life. Saved, found—she wasn’t sure which was accurate and it didn’t matter. Everett was safe.
She shifted her baby. He was heavy, even for the short distance to the exit. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t putting him down for anything, even as her hand shook from shock and Everett began to snuffle. She knew he felt her panic. Between that and the noise and the confusion of the last few minutes, she was surprised that he was as quiet as he was.
“It’s all right,” she whispered into his ear. She could smell the unique scent of the shampoo she’d used on his hair combined with the heavy smell of smoke. She ran a finger down his soft cheek, thumbing away the remaining tears. His bottom lip quivered and she knew that he was seconds away from bursting into a full-out wail. Once that happened, there’d be no stopping him. Everett’s crying jags could be legendary. Now he had every reason to cry. She imagined that his flair for drama might mean she had a future actor on her hands. Or...she looked back at Talib, remembering.
She blew the thoughts from her mind. No matter Everett’s discomfort or the former lover behind her, they could both wait. She needed to get her son out of this hotel and to safety.
And as she thought that a firm hand was on her waist and Everett plucked from her arms. Her heart stopped. This wouldn’t happen again. She was ready to fight for her child. She turned and met the eyes of the man she had come here to see.
“Sara. He’s heavy. Let me.”
This time, his voice cut through her panic. His voice, like his presence, his personality, his everything, was too smooth and he was much too sure of himself. He looked the same and yet something had changed. She could see it in the depths of his dark, gold-flecked eyes. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, only that it was different, as if he was haunted by something or someone. A woman probably, she thought with scathing awareness and then pushed the thought from her mind. If she expected his help she would have to be civil and to do that she had to begin with her thoughts, and that one hadn’t been fair. Whatever he was, he’d help her now. That was Talib, solid and dependable in anything that was not a romantic entanglement. Her mood СКАЧАТЬ