Read Online The Sheik Who Loved Me by Loreth Anne White - Free Book Online
Authors: Loreth Anne White
Tags: Suspense
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so slightly about her face in the warm, salty breeze. Her eyes were darkly luminous in this light. An oversize white muslin shirt hung to her thighs. On her legs she wore soft white muslin pants. She had oversize leather thongs on her feet. Watson’s clothes?
He swallowed against the tightening in his throat. He’d expected—no, dreaded—seeing her in Aisha’s clothes. And here she was in Watson’s garb. And in spite of the getup, she remained ridiculously sensual and feminine, in the way of a woman confident and secure with her sexuality. That in itself was insanely arousing to David. He couldn’t seem to find his voice. All he could do was stare at the shape of her body under the sheer African fabric, silhouetted against the lamplight. It made him recall her perfect breasts, the tight coral tips.
His pulse rate kicked up, and his breathing became light and shallow. This woman had a confounding effect on his body. He cleared his throat. But his voice still came out low and gruff. “Those clothes?”
She smiled. “The doctor’s. May I join you?”
“Why are you wearing Watson’s stuff? What happened to the clothes Kamilah brought you?”
She stepped out onto the patio and into his personal space. “It didn’t feel right,” she said. “I didn’t want to upset anyone. I told Watson how I felt, and he gave me free access to his closet.” She looked down at the garments and grimaced playfully. “I’m afraid this is the best I could come up with. Couture à la doc.”
He couldn’t help but smile. She’d floored him. Her sensitivity and tact, especially given her circumstances, made him feel like a brutish clod. He’d been so self-indulgent he hadn’t begun to think about what she might be going through.
“You look great,” he said. And he meant it.
“Thanks.” She came up to his side. He felt his nostrils flare in reflex as she neared, drinking in the fresh, clean scent of her.
“You didn’t join us for dinner.” The banality of his statement belied how he’d felt about it. A part of him had hungered to see her again. Another was relieved when she hadn’t shown. And then, when she still didn’t appear, he’d felt slighted, even irritated.
“I ate in the servants quarters,” she said simply.
“Why?”
She smiled at him, that dimple deepening in her one cheek. He couldn’t take his eyes off the way her lips curved. He noted that one side of her smile was a little higher than the other. It gave her a mischievous look, as if she held some hidden secret, as if she was toying with him.
“I didn’t want to interrupt your private time with Kamilah.” She hesitated. “Dr. Watson told me about her…about her problem.”
He stared at her in stunned silence, a grudging respect rising in him.
She came even closer to his chair. He felt the hairs on his arms rise, warmth stir in his groin. His body was powerless in her presence. Entranced, he watched the way the pale moonlight played across her exotic features.
“How was dinner…I mean with Kamilah. How was she?”
He was taken aback by her question, the intimacy of it. This was Rashid business. “Special,” he said.
She waited, eyes watching him.
“She didn’t talk to me, if that’s what you want to know.”
Her brow raised at the brusqueness of his tone.
He felt a pang of guilt, a need to elaborate. “She…she was there in a way she never was before.” He grinned in spite of himself. “She even laughed at my silly camel jokes.”
Sahar smiled. But it wasn’t the same smile he’d seen before. There was a haunted look deep within her eyes, a look that betrayed her outward control. It was the look of someone adrift. Lost. Even a little afraid.
She was doing her best to appear relaxed, confident. She was looking beyond herself, beyond her own tragedy, caring about him and Kamilah. But he’d glimpsed the truth inside. She was hurting. Guilt knotted in his chest.
“I’m glad I found you,” she said. “I’ve been
He swallowed against the tightening in his throat. He’d expected—no, dreaded—seeing her in Aisha’s clothes. And here she was in Watson’s garb. And in spite of the getup, she remained ridiculously sensual and feminine, in the way of a woman confident and secure with her sexuality. That in itself was insanely arousing to David. He couldn’t seem to find his voice. All he could do was stare at the shape of her body under the sheer African fabric, silhouetted against the lamplight. It made him recall her perfect breasts, the tight coral tips.
His pulse rate kicked up, and his breathing became light and shallow. This woman had a confounding effect on his body. He cleared his throat. But his voice still came out low and gruff. “Those clothes?”
She smiled. “The doctor’s. May I join you?”
“Why are you wearing Watson’s stuff? What happened to the clothes Kamilah brought you?”
She stepped out onto the patio and into his personal space. “It didn’t feel right,” she said. “I didn’t want to upset anyone. I told Watson how I felt, and he gave me free access to his closet.” She looked down at the garments and grimaced playfully. “I’m afraid this is the best I could come up with. Couture à la doc.”
He couldn’t help but smile. She’d floored him. Her sensitivity and tact, especially given her circumstances, made him feel like a brutish clod. He’d been so self-indulgent he hadn’t begun to think about what she might be going through.
“You look great,” he said. And he meant it.
“Thanks.” She came up to his side. He felt his nostrils flare in reflex as she neared, drinking in the fresh, clean scent of her.
“You didn’t join us for dinner.” The banality of his statement belied how he’d felt about it. A part of him had hungered to see her again. Another was relieved when she hadn’t shown. And then, when she still didn’t appear, he’d felt slighted, even irritated.
“I ate in the servants quarters,” she said simply.
“Why?”
She smiled at him, that dimple deepening in her one cheek. He couldn’t take his eyes off the way her lips curved. He noted that one side of her smile was a little higher than the other. It gave her a mischievous look, as if she held some hidden secret, as if she was toying with him.
“I didn’t want to interrupt your private time with Kamilah.” She hesitated. “Dr. Watson told me about her…about her problem.”
He stared at her in stunned silence, a grudging respect rising in him.
She came even closer to his chair. He felt the hairs on his arms rise, warmth stir in his groin. His body was powerless in her presence. Entranced, he watched the way the pale moonlight played across her exotic features.
“How was dinner…I mean with Kamilah. How was she?”
He was taken aback by her question, the intimacy of it. This was Rashid business. “Special,” he said.
She waited, eyes watching him.
“She didn’t talk to me, if that’s what you want to know.”
Her brow raised at the brusqueness of his tone.
He felt a pang of guilt, a need to elaborate. “She…she was there in a way she never was before.” He grinned in spite of himself. “She even laughed at my silly camel jokes.”
Sahar smiled. But it wasn’t the same smile he’d seen before. There was a haunted look deep within her eyes, a look that betrayed her outward control. It was the look of someone adrift. Lost. Even a little afraid.
She was doing her best to appear relaxed, confident. She was looking beyond herself, beyond her own tragedy, caring about him and Kamilah. But he’d glimpsed the truth inside. She was hurting. Guilt knotted in his chest.
“I’m glad I found you,” she said. “I’ve been
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