Australia: In Bed with a Sheikh!: The Sheikh's Seduction / The Sheikh's Revenge / Traded to the Sheikh. Emma Darcy

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СКАЧАТЬ her, searing it with white-hot needs her mind could not even begin to encompass.

      She stared back, helplessly caught in the thrall of his power, fearful of what she had triggered so heedlessly. She felt herself begin to tremble, shaken by the whirlwind of sensation beating through her. Her heart seemed to be thumping in her ears. Her breasts were swelling, tightening. A heavy, dragging feeling in her thighs was transforming into a melting heat.

      Most shocking of all, he saw…he knew…and he said, “Don’t tempt the devil unless you want to play with fire, Sarah.”

      Harsh, challenging words. No intent to seduce. No forcing anything. Demanding an unequivocal decision from her. And her memory spewed out the words…I’ve never taken an unwilling woman to bed with me.

      Living by his rules…

      Dear God! What were hers? How could they be so easily lost, overwhelmed? In sheer panic she clutched at safety. The alternative was too frightening.

      She swallowed hard and forced out the one weak excuse for her behaviour she had. “I was only thanking you.”

      “Were you?”

      Her skin burned.

      The searing fire in his eyes slowly retreated to a mocking simmer. “So be it then. Consider me thanked.”

      He carried her hands down to her sides, released them, then walked away…a man of rigid principle.

      Sarah was left feeling bereft…foolish…relieved. The truth was scorched indelibly on her brain. She could and had tapped into a furnace of feeling that would swallow her up if she opened the door to it. Touching was very different to loving, powerful but extremely perilous and not to be played with. Unless she wanted to be completely consumed by Tareq al-Khaima.

      Surely that would be the ultimate madness.

      Or would it be the ultimate experience?

CHAPTER EIGHT

      TAREQ CURSED HIMSELF for being a quixotic fool. He could have taken her then. He could have spun her into a sexual thrall so fast, resistance wouldn’t have occurred to her. Instead, his body was screaming against the restraint he’d imposed on it.

      For what? She wanted her curiosity satisfied. She wanted to know what he’d be like as a lover. She was so transparent…

      And so was her innocence, he reminded himself savagely.

      He headed out to the pool, stripped off and dived in, threshing through the cool water for several lengths, using up the explosive energy that had been denied its natural outlet. When he finally paused for breath, the needling tension had gone but he was still at war with himself.

      He’d thought to give Sarah a good slice of life while he had the satisfaction and pleasure of knowing her in every sense. A fair exchange, he’d reasoned. She’d get to experience all she’d been missing out on and he’d enjoy giving her pleasure, showing her the world, being her teacher.

      She was different to the women who usually peopled his life and he’d wanted to savour the difference. The bitter irony was the very difference that appealed to him, defeated the purpose he’d started out with.

      It was cruelly obvious her loving heart would attach more to sexual intimacy than the physical satisfaction he had in mind. If he took advantage of her vulnerability, how would they both feel about it afterwards? She’d already suffered a miserable pile of disillusionment in her life. He had a gutre-coil to adding another heap of it.

      Yet he wanted her, wanted the full experience of her. He was so damned jaded, her freshness had a compelling appeal and with her giving nature, her artless honesty, whatever he had with her would be very special. He knew it and he wanted it more than anything he’d wanted for a long, long time.

      So what the hell was he to do?

      The quandary was killing him.

      He had to find some way around it.

CHAPTER NINE

      THE CALM AFTER the storm, Sarah thought ironically, sitting through breakfast with Tareq. His usual gentlemanly manner had been resumed without the slightest suggestion of strain. Sarah worked hard at holding a natural approach to today’s activities, asking about the ranch they would be visiting, the horses that interested him, the people who owned them.

      She fixed their names in her mind—Jack and Miriam Wellesly-Adams—suspecting the double-barrelled surname represented an amalgamation of two very wealthy families. She’d taken her cue from Tareq, dressing casually in jeans, a black pair which had a matching battle jacket she could wear if the afternoon turned cool. Her lime green polo-necked top went well with it. Since no critical comment was forthcoming from Tareq, Sarah concluded she was suitably attired, regardless of her hostess’s fashion standards.

      Although dinner this evening was somewhat trickier. She and Tareq were to be overnight guests. “Classy casual,” he’d advised when she’d asked him what to pack for it. How classy and how casual were left undefined. Sarah hoped her new lemon pants-suit fitted the requisites.

      Cluttering her mind with superficial details kept more fretful thoughts at bay. Sarah almost managed to pretend she felt no tension at all. Logic insisted that as long as she didn’t touch Tareq, he would respect whatever distance she chose to hold. Pouncing was not on his agenda. He was playing a waiting game. Though if she let herself think about that, her nerves would start screaming again.

      She was glad when it was time to go. She wanted to put the confrontation in his study behind her, a long way behind her, physically as well as mentally. Once they were on the road she could immerse herself in the role of travelling companion and hopefully find lots of distractions.

      Tareq surprised her.

      A gleaming red Cadillac convertible was sitting outside the house and Sam Bates was loading their overnight cases in the trunk. Sarah stopped and stared. They’d been riding around in a silvery grey BMW all week. This car had certainly not been in evidence. Anyone would have to be blind not to see such a flamboyant vehicle.

      “Where did that come from?” The question spilled from her lips.

      “I hired it for this trip,” came the matter-of-fact reply.

      Sarah shook her head. It made no sense to her. Tareq spared no expense on his comfort and convenience but she didn’t have him tabbed as a show-off sort of playboy. The red Cadillac convertible shouted Look at me! I’m king of the road! She tore her gaze from the glittering, extrovert attraction of the car and searched Tareq’s eyes for the purpose he had to have for it.

      “Why?” she asked.

      He grinned, totally disarming her and sending a flock of butterflies through her stomach. “For fun,” he answered and held out the keys to her. “I thought you’d enjoy driving it.”

      “Me? But I can’t, Tareq. I’ve never driven on the wrong side of the road.”

      He laughed. “Here it’s the right СКАЧАТЬ