Read Online The sheikh's chosen wife by Michelle Reid - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Reid
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having spent the previous few minutes listing
every other wrong move he had made until now.
'Just for tonight,' she
said, and lifted those lashes to show him the firmness of that decision.
'Tomorrow you take me back to San Esteban.'
His mouth flexed as the
urge to say. Never, throbbed on the end of his tongue. 'Tomorrow we—talk about
it,' he offered as his only compromise, though he knew it was no compromise at
all and wondered if she knew it too.
He suspected she did,
suspected she knew he had not gone to all of this trouble just to snatch a
single night with her. But those wonderful lashes fluttered down again. Her
soft mouth, still pulsing from his kiss, closed over words she decided not to
say, and with only a nod of her head she lost the towel, stepped forward and
turned to allow him to help feed her arms into the kimono-type sleeves of the
robe.
It was a concession he
knew he did not deserve. A concession he wanted to repay with a kiss of
another kind, where bodies met and senses took over. Instead, he turned her to
face him, smoothed his fingers down the robe's silken border from slender
shoulders to narrow waist, then reached for the belt and tied it for her.
His gentle ministrations
brought a reluctant smile to her lips. 'The calm before the storm,' she likened
dryly.
'Better this than what I
really want to do,' he very ruefully replied.
'You mean this?' she
asked, and lifted her eyes to his to let him see what was running through her
head, then reached up and kissed him, before drawing away again with a very
mocking smile.
As she turned to walk
towards the food trolley she managed to trail her fingers over that part of
him that was already so hard it was almost an embarrassment. The little vixen.
He released a soft laugh. She might appear subdued on the surface, but
underneath she still possessed enough spirit to play the tease.
They ate poached salmon
on a bed of spinach, and beef stroganoff laden with cream. Hassan kept her
glass filled with the crisp dry white wine she liked, while he drank sparkling
water. As the wine helped mellow her mood some more. Leona managed to
completely convince herself that all she wanted was this one wonderful night
and she was prepared to live on it for ever. By the time the meal was finished
and he suggested a walk on the deck, she was happy to go with him.
Outside the air was warm
and as silken as the darkness that surrounded them. Both in bare feet, dressed
only in their robes, they strolled along the deck and could have been the only
two people on board it was so quiet and deserted.
'Raflq is entertaining
Ethan—up there,' Hassan explained when she asked where everyone else was.
Following his gaze, Leona could see lights were burning in the windows of the
deck above.
'Should we be joining
them?"
'I don't think they would
appreciate the interruption,' he drawled. 'They have a poker game planned with
several members of the crew, and our presence would dampen their—enthusiasm.'
Which was really him
saying he didn't want to share her with anyone. 'You have an answer for
everything, don't you?' she murmured.
'I try.' He smiled.
It was a slaying smile
that sent the heat of anticipation burning between the cradle of her hip-bones,
forcing her to look away so he wouldn't see just how susceptible she was even
to his smile. Going to lean against the yacht's rail, she looked down to watch
the white horses chase along the dark blue hull of the boat. They were moving
at speed, slicing through the water on slick silent power that made her wonder
how far they were away from San Est6ban by now.
She didn't ask, though,
because it was the kind of question that could start a war. 'This is one very
impressive toy, even for an oil-rich sheikh,' she remarked.
'One hundred and ninety
feet in length,' he announced, and came to lean beside her with his back
against the rail. Twenty-nine feet across the beam.' His arm slid around her
waist and twisted her to stand in front of him so
every other wrong move he had made until now.
'Just for tonight,' she
said, and lifted those lashes to show him the firmness of that decision.
'Tomorrow you take me back to San Esteban.'
His mouth flexed as the
urge to say. Never, throbbed on the end of his tongue. 'Tomorrow we—talk about
it,' he offered as his only compromise, though he knew it was no compromise at
all and wondered if she knew it too.
He suspected she did,
suspected she knew he had not gone to all of this trouble just to snatch a
single night with her. But those wonderful lashes fluttered down again. Her
soft mouth, still pulsing from his kiss, closed over words she decided not to
say, and with only a nod of her head she lost the towel, stepped forward and
turned to allow him to help feed her arms into the kimono-type sleeves of the
robe.
It was a concession he
knew he did not deserve. A concession he wanted to repay with a kiss of
another kind, where bodies met and senses took over. Instead, he turned her to
face him, smoothed his fingers down the robe's silken border from slender
shoulders to narrow waist, then reached for the belt and tied it for her.
His gentle ministrations
brought a reluctant smile to her lips. 'The calm before the storm,' she likened
dryly.
'Better this than what I
really want to do,' he very ruefully replied.
'You mean this?' she
asked, and lifted her eyes to his to let him see what was running through her
head, then reached up and kissed him, before drawing away again with a very
mocking smile.
As she turned to walk
towards the food trolley she managed to trail her fingers over that part of
him that was already so hard it was almost an embarrassment. The little vixen.
He released a soft laugh. She might appear subdued on the surface, but
underneath she still possessed enough spirit to play the tease.
They ate poached salmon
on a bed of spinach, and beef stroganoff laden with cream. Hassan kept her
glass filled with the crisp dry white wine she liked, while he drank sparkling
water. As the wine helped mellow her mood some more. Leona managed to
completely convince herself that all she wanted was this one wonderful night
and she was prepared to live on it for ever. By the time the meal was finished
and he suggested a walk on the deck, she was happy to go with him.
Outside the air was warm
and as silken as the darkness that surrounded them. Both in bare feet, dressed
only in their robes, they strolled along the deck and could have been the only
two people on board it was so quiet and deserted.
'Raflq is entertaining
Ethan—up there,' Hassan explained when she asked where everyone else was.
Following his gaze, Leona could see lights were burning in the windows of the
deck above.
'Should we be joining
them?"
'I don't think they would
appreciate the interruption,' he drawled. 'They have a poker game planned with
several members of the crew, and our presence would dampen their—enthusiasm.'
Which was really him
saying he didn't want to share her with anyone. 'You have an answer for
everything, don't you?' she murmured.
'I try.' He smiled.
It was a slaying smile
that sent the heat of anticipation burning between the cradle of her hip-bones,
forcing her to look away so he wouldn't see just how susceptible she was even
to his smile. Going to lean against the yacht's rail, she looked down to watch
the white horses chase along the dark blue hull of the boat. They were moving
at speed, slicing through the water on slick silent power that made her wonder
how far they were away from San Est6ban by now.
She didn't ask, though,
because it was the kind of question that could start a war. 'This is one very
impressive toy, even for an oil-rich sheikh,' she remarked.
'One hundred and ninety
feet in length,' he announced, and came to lean beside her with his back
against the rail. Twenty-nine feet across the beam.' His arm slid around her
waist and twisted her to stand in front of him so
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