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Authors: Sharon Kendrick
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holding out for dinner first—but he suspected that irony would be lost on her, quite apart from the fact that he bet she’d never been taken out for dinner in her life.
‘But I, as your sheikh, want it,’ he argued, quite reasonably. ‘So how can it be wrong?’
Eleni took the opportunity to wriggle back a little on the bank of silk cushions, trying to steady her still-ragged breathing and wishing that her heart would slow down. But that fractional increase in the distance between them made all the difference.
‘I would lose respect,’ she said.
‘Whose? Mine? I can assure you that your surrender will make me respect you more,’ he murmured, lifting his hand to brush away a lock of silken hair which had escaped.
Eleni looked at him, trying to ignore the instinctive thrill she felt when he touched her. She didn’t believe him, not for a moment. He reminded her of her favourite stable cat—a sleek and beautiful creature, but one who would happily trail after anyone who happened to feed her. But of course she would not do anything as stupid as calling the sheikh a liar.
‘It would be unsuitable, Highness,’ she continued implacably. ‘And ultimately it might distract your attention from Nabat.’
For a moment he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, until he realised that she meant her wretched horse. For a moment he wanted to exclaim that the horse could go to hell for all he cared—that her sweet young body excited him far more—but even he recognised that this would not do his case any good.
Did she not realise that there wasn’t a woman alive who had ever turned down the opportunity of such sensual pleasure with Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi? Did she not realise that there could be dire consequences from incurring his royal displeasure? Dropping his hand from the pure oval of her face, he gave a click of irritated frustration.
‘I’m not interested in the damned horse!’ he snapped, unable to stop himself.
Eleni’s expression exhibited nothing but interested enquiry, even though her heart was racing like a piston beneath the expensive robe she wore. ‘But I thought that was your reason for bringing me here, Highness.’
He met her innocent gaze with a frown. Was it simply his imagination—or was there a teasing challenge in the depths of those green eyes? If he told her that her courage and youth and arresting eyes had played their part in bringing her here—then would that not put him at a disadvantage? Did she not realise that he could have any woman he wanted and that she was lucky that he had deigned to pick her? Well, she would discover it soon enough!
‘Then we will discuss the horses,’ he drawled, stifling a yawn—as if he had grown bored with the conversation.
For a moment, Eleni wondered whether she had gone too far—but what choice did she have? She would have acted in the same way no matter who had attempted such a casual and quick seduction. And just because Kaliq was a sheikh did not mean that he should be treated any differently from any other man, did it?
It was true that no one else had ever made her feel like that—as if she had just discovered what a woman’s body had been designed for—but surely that itself was dangerous? Imagine if she got used to a sheikh’s caresses and began comparing everyone else to him. That, of course, presumed that there was ever going to be anyone else, which was looking increasingly unlikely as she headed unmarried towards thirty—as the sheikh himself had rather cruelly pointed out.
She gave him a bright smile. ‘Does the sheikh not drink mint tea after dinner?’ she questioned softly. ‘I always find it very relaxing.’
For a moment Kaliq did not know whether to laugh or explode or whether to send the impudent minx packing back to her hovel of a home and her drunk of a father. But the challenge of her defiance was proving almost irresistible and he conceded that she did have a point and so he lifted his hands and
‘But I, as your sheikh, want it,’ he argued, quite reasonably. ‘So how can it be wrong?’
Eleni took the opportunity to wriggle back a little on the bank of silk cushions, trying to steady her still-ragged breathing and wishing that her heart would slow down. But that fractional increase in the distance between them made all the difference.
‘I would lose respect,’ she said.
‘Whose? Mine? I can assure you that your surrender will make me respect you more,’ he murmured, lifting his hand to brush away a lock of silken hair which had escaped.
Eleni looked at him, trying to ignore the instinctive thrill she felt when he touched her. She didn’t believe him, not for a moment. He reminded her of her favourite stable cat—a sleek and beautiful creature, but one who would happily trail after anyone who happened to feed her. But of course she would not do anything as stupid as calling the sheikh a liar.
‘It would be unsuitable, Highness,’ she continued implacably. ‘And ultimately it might distract your attention from Nabat.’
For a moment he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, until he realised that she meant her wretched horse. For a moment he wanted to exclaim that the horse could go to hell for all he cared—that her sweet young body excited him far more—but even he recognised that this would not do his case any good.
Did she not realise that there wasn’t a woman alive who had ever turned down the opportunity of such sensual pleasure with Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi? Did she not realise that there could be dire consequences from incurring his royal displeasure? Dropping his hand from the pure oval of her face, he gave a click of irritated frustration.
‘I’m not interested in the damned horse!’ he snapped, unable to stop himself.
Eleni’s expression exhibited nothing but interested enquiry, even though her heart was racing like a piston beneath the expensive robe she wore. ‘But I thought that was your reason for bringing me here, Highness.’
He met her innocent gaze with a frown. Was it simply his imagination—or was there a teasing challenge in the depths of those green eyes? If he told her that her courage and youth and arresting eyes had played their part in bringing her here—then would that not put him at a disadvantage? Did she not realise that he could have any woman he wanted and that she was lucky that he had deigned to pick her? Well, she would discover it soon enough!
‘Then we will discuss the horses,’ he drawled, stifling a yawn—as if he had grown bored with the conversation.
For a moment, Eleni wondered whether she had gone too far—but what choice did she have? She would have acted in the same way no matter who had attempted such a casual and quick seduction. And just because Kaliq was a sheikh did not mean that he should be treated any differently from any other man, did it?
It was true that no one else had ever made her feel like that—as if she had just discovered what a woman’s body had been designed for—but surely that itself was dangerous? Imagine if she got used to a sheikh’s caresses and began comparing everyone else to him. That, of course, presumed that there was ever going to be anyone else, which was looking increasingly unlikely as she headed unmarried towards thirty—as the sheikh himself had rather cruelly pointed out.
She gave him a bright smile. ‘Does the sheikh not drink mint tea after dinner?’ she questioned softly. ‘I always find it very relaxing.’
For a moment Kaliq did not know whether to laugh or explode or whether to send the impudent minx packing back to her hovel of a home and her drunk of a father. But the challenge of her defiance was proving almost irresistible and he conceded that she did have a point and so he lifted his hands and
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