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Authors: Michelle Reid
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she could follow his hand as
he pointed. 'The top deck belongs mainly to the control room, where my very
efficient captain keeps a smoothly running ship,' he said. "The next down
belongs to the sun deck and main reception salons designed to suitably
luxurious standards for entertaining purposes. We stand upon what is known as
the shade deck, it being cast mostly in the shade of the deck above,' he
continued, so smoothly that she laughed because she knew he was really mocking
the whole sumptuous thing. 'One half is reserved for our own personal use, with
our private staterooms, my private offices etcetera,' he explained, 'while the
other half is split equally between outer sun deck, outer shade deck, plus some
less formal living space.
'Gosh, you're so lucky to
be this rich.' She laughed.
‘And I haven't yet
finished this glorious tour,' he replied. 'For below our feet lies the cabin
deck, complete with six private suites easily fit for the occupation of kings.
Then there is the engine room and crew's quarters below that. We can also offer
a plunge pool, gymnasium and an assortment of nautical toys to make our weary
lot a happier one’
'Does it have a name,
this sheikh's floating palace?' she enquired laughingly.
'Mmm. Sexy Lady,' he
growled, and lowered his head so he could bury his teeth in the side of her
neck where it met her shoulder.
'You're joking!' she
accused, turning round in his arms to stare at him.
'Okay.' He shrugged. ‘I
am joking.'
'Then what is she
called?' she demanded, as her heart skipped a beat then stopped altogether
because he looked so wonderful standing here with his lean dark features
relaxed and smiling naturally for the first time. She loved him quite desperately—how
could she not? He was her—
The laughter suddenly
died on her lips, his expression telling her something she didn't want to
believe. 'No,' she breathed in denial. He couldn't have done—he wouldn't...
'Why not?' he challenged
softly.
'Not in this case!' she
snapped at him, not knowing quite what it was that was upsetting her. But upset
she was; her eyes felt too hot, her chest too tight, and she had a horrible
feeling she was about to weep all over his big hard beautiful chest!
'It is traditional to
name a boat after your most cherished loved-one,' he pointed out. 'And why am I
defending myself when I could not have paid you a better compliment than
this?"
'Because...' she began
shakily.
'You don't like it,' he
finished for her.
'No!' she confirmed, then
almost instantly changed her mind and said. 'Yes, I like it! But you shouldn't
have! Y-you—'
His mouth crushed the
rest of her protest into absolute oblivion, which was where it belonged anyway,
because she didn't know what she was saying, only that a warm sweet wave of
love was crashing over her and it was so dangerously seductive that—
She fell into it. She
just let the wave close over her head and let him drown her in the heat of his
passion, the power of his arms and the hunger of his kiss.
'Bed?' he suggested
against her clinging mouth.
'Yes,' she agreed, then
fed her fingers into his hair and her tongue between his ready lips. A groan
broke low in his throat; it was husky and gorgeous; she tasted it greedily. A
hand that knew her so very well curved over her thighs, slid up beneath her
wrap, then cupped her bottom so he could bring her into closer contact with his
desire. It was all very hot and very hungry. With a flick of a few scraps of
silk they could be making love right here against the yacht's rail and in front
of however many unseen eyes that happened to be glancing this way.
Hassan must have been
thinking similarly because he suddenly put her from him. 'Bed,' he repeated,
two dark streaks of colour accentuating his cheekbones and the fevered glitter
in his eyes. 'Can you walk, or do I carry you?'
'I can run,' she informed
him candidly, and grabbed hold of his hand, then turned to stride off on long
slender legs with his husky laugh
he pointed. 'The top deck belongs mainly to the control room, where my very
efficient captain keeps a smoothly running ship,' he said. "The next down
belongs to the sun deck and main reception salons designed to suitably
luxurious standards for entertaining purposes. We stand upon what is known as
the shade deck, it being cast mostly in the shade of the deck above,' he
continued, so smoothly that she laughed because she knew he was really mocking
the whole sumptuous thing. 'One half is reserved for our own personal use, with
our private staterooms, my private offices etcetera,' he explained, 'while the
other half is split equally between outer sun deck, outer shade deck, plus some
less formal living space.
'Gosh, you're so lucky to
be this rich.' She laughed.
‘And I haven't yet
finished this glorious tour,' he replied. 'For below our feet lies the cabin
deck, complete with six private suites easily fit for the occupation of kings.
Then there is the engine room and crew's quarters below that. We can also offer
a plunge pool, gymnasium and an assortment of nautical toys to make our weary
lot a happier one’
'Does it have a name,
this sheikh's floating palace?' she enquired laughingly.
'Mmm. Sexy Lady,' he
growled, and lowered his head so he could bury his teeth in the side of her
neck where it met her shoulder.
'You're joking!' she
accused, turning round in his arms to stare at him.
'Okay.' He shrugged. ‘I
am joking.'
'Then what is she
called?' she demanded, as her heart skipped a beat then stopped altogether
because he looked so wonderful standing here with his lean dark features
relaxed and smiling naturally for the first time. She loved him quite desperately—how
could she not? He was her—
The laughter suddenly
died on her lips, his expression telling her something she didn't want to
believe. 'No,' she breathed in denial. He couldn't have done—he wouldn't...
'Why not?' he challenged
softly.
'Not in this case!' she
snapped at him, not knowing quite what it was that was upsetting her. But upset
she was; her eyes felt too hot, her chest too tight, and she had a horrible
feeling she was about to weep all over his big hard beautiful chest!
'It is traditional to
name a boat after your most cherished loved-one,' he pointed out. 'And why am I
defending myself when I could not have paid you a better compliment than
this?"
'Because...' she began
shakily.
'You don't like it,' he
finished for her.
'No!' she confirmed, then
almost instantly changed her mind and said. 'Yes, I like it! But you shouldn't
have! Y-you—'
His mouth crushed the
rest of her protest into absolute oblivion, which was where it belonged anyway,
because she didn't know what she was saying, only that a warm sweet wave of
love was crashing over her and it was so dangerously seductive that—
She fell into it. She
just let the wave close over her head and let him drown her in the heat of his
passion, the power of his arms and the hunger of his kiss.
'Bed?' he suggested
against her clinging mouth.
'Yes,' she agreed, then
fed her fingers into his hair and her tongue between his ready lips. A groan
broke low in his throat; it was husky and gorgeous; she tasted it greedily. A
hand that knew her so very well curved over her thighs, slid up beneath her
wrap, then cupped her bottom so he could bring her into closer contact with his
desire. It was all very hot and very hungry. With a flick of a few scraps of
silk they could be making love right here against the yacht's rail and in front
of however many unseen eyes that happened to be glancing this way.
Hassan must have been
thinking similarly because he suddenly put her from him. 'Bed,' he repeated,
two dark streaks of colour accentuating his cheekbones and the fevered glitter
in his eyes. 'Can you walk, or do I carry you?'
'I can run,' she informed
him candidly, and grabbed hold of his hand, then turned to stride off on long
slender legs with his husky laugh
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