One Night with the Sheikh. KRISTI GOLD

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      No more kisses...

      As Rafiq sat alone in his office, attempting to tie up loose ends, kissing Maysa remained foremost on his mind. Making love to her again did, as well. He could no more resist the fantasies than he could pick up the palace with his bare hands and move it down the mountainside.

      “Have you mentally vacated the premises, brother?”

      Rafiq glanced up from his desk to discover his youngest sibling standing before him, wearing his usual standard beige flight suit and mocking smile. “I am preoccupied by my duty.”

      “Too preoccupied to speak with me, your most loyal supporter?”

      Adan rarely supported anyone aside from himself. “Unless you have something important to say, you may return later.”

      “I do have something of great importance to tell you,” Adan said as he claimed the opposing chair.

      Frustrated over the intrusion, Rafiq tossed his pen aside and leaned back in his seat. “You have found yet another aircraft you are determined to add to our fleet.”

      “No. I came to deliver a message.”

      “From whom?”

      “Maysa Barad.” Adan’s grin widened, as if privy to a secret. “She requests that you arrive before 6:00 p.m., and that you limit your guards if at all possible.”

      He could only imagine where his brother’s thoughts had turned. “Duly noted. You may leave now.”

      “Not until you explain why you are visiting Maysa, and why she would ask that you not bring along too many guards. Either she feels she does not pose a threat, or she wishes to make certain she has your undivided attention.”

      “What business I have with Maysa is not your concern.”

      “Perhaps, but I am curious.”

      Rafiq resisted telling his brother what he could do with his curiosity, and his British accent. “If you must know, Maysa has agreed to allow me to take a brief respite in her home.”

      Adan rubbed his chin. “I see. Will you be spending this respite in her bed?”

      He was not at all surprised over the assumption, but he was angered by it. “Rest assured, I will not be attempting to bed her.” Though preventing that possibility would prove to be a great challenge.

      Adan released a cynical laugh. “Ah, that is where we differ. I for one would give up flying before I would not take advantage of being alone with a beautiful woman in close confines. And you should consider doing the same.”

      He felt the need to explain his resistance, whether Adan deserved an explanation or not. “First, I have only been widowed a short while—”

      “To a woman you did not love.”

      “A woman I had known for quite some time before she became my wife. No matter what you believe, I did care for Rima.”

      “Yet not as much as you’ve always cared for Maysa.”

      His patience was beginning to grow thin, frayed in part by the truth. “Maysa is only a friend who has agreed to accommodate my needs.”

      “Which needs would those be, brother?” Adan asked.

      “My intentions are honorable.” Though his thoughts and actions the previous evening had not been at all honorable.

      “How honorable will you be while spending time with a friend who at one time fancied herself in love with you?”

      He could not argue that point. “What Maysa and I shared in the past had more to do with camaraderie than with love.”

      “Teenage lust, you mean. And that lust could quite possibly carry over into adulthood.”

      He had spent most of the night considering it. “I am older and wiser. I have learned to maintain self-control.”

      Adan presented a skeptic’s smile. “You are a Mehdi male, Rafiq, and self-control can and will escape you in the presence of a woman you have always desired. You are not made of steel.”

      Rafiq folded his hands atop the desk and glared at his brother. “Do not project your lack of restraint on me. I have not made bedding women my favorite pastime.”

      “I have not had as many women as you might believe,” Adan said. “And although you have practiced more discretion, I suspect you were not celibate during the time between your agreement to marry Rima and when you finally did wed her.”

      That fact was not up for debate. “If you are finished delving into my private life, you may take your leave immediately.”

      “Actually, I’m not quite finished. Did it disturb you that Rima was not a virgin when you wed her?”

      Adan’s audacity made Rafiq’s blood boil. “Why would you assume this?”

      “Are you denying it?”

      Unfortunately, he could not. Yet he did question how Adan would know something so personal about Rima. He was tempted to ask, but he in turn feared the answer. “This topic is not up for discussion.”

      “I only wanted to point out that Rima was not destined for sainthood,” Adan said. “Neither are you. In fact, you’re human, and a man with needs.”

      The reason behind his brother’s insinuation finally dawned on Rafiq. “If you are worried I will bring scandal upon the Mehdi name by sleeping with Maysa, I assure you that will not happen. And if you are also hoping that I will abandon my duty and pass the crown to you, as Zain did with me, you may set those wishes aside immediately.”

      Adan’s expression turned suddenly serious. “I have never possessed any desire to be king, Rafiq. And as far as your relationship with Maysa is concerned, I am an advocate for letting nature take its course. If you and Maysa find you cannot resist each other, then don’t. You certainly have my blessing.”

      Adan had failed to weigh the most important fact. If Rafiq took Maysa as his lover again, the liaison could only be temporary since he would be expected to choose a suitable queen. The thought of being with another woman aside from Maysa was unthinkable. The thought of wounding her again, unimaginable. Yet he could very well head down that path if he acted on impulse.

      For that reason, perhaps he should consider canceling their arrangement. Perhaps it would be best if he found another location for his sabbatical. “I will take your counsel under advisement. Now if you do not mind, I have work to complete.”

      “So much work, il mio bel ragazzo, that you cannot give your former governess a few moments?”

      Rafiq turned his attention from Adan to Elena Battelli, who now stood at the doorway, a dark-haired infant balanced on her hip. Her silver hair contrasted with her topaz eyes that at times hinted at mischief, and other times reflected wisdom. She had been the Mehdi sons’ surrogate matriarch since their mother’s death, and always a welcome presence. She had also been free with her opinions, and he expected no less from her now.

      Rafiq СКАЧАТЬ