Read Online Trusting A Sheikh (Playgrounds of Power 1) by Rosie Pike - Free Book Online Page B

– an extremely attractive – salesman at the end of a long day. Well, a salesman in a tailored suit, at least.
    "What can I get you? Looks like we've got everything."
    "I know." Chloe grinned. "I checked."
    "Of course you did. How could I forget…" Tariq smiled back. "So, what'll it be?"
    "This time of night? Only one thing for it – Barman, get me a bourbon."
    Tariq whistled. "Big drink for a little lady."
    Chloe raised one exquisitely manicured dark eyebrow in mock outrage. "Policing what I drink, are you?"
    "I wouldn't dare. I think I'll join you with that. Woodford Reserve?"
    "My favorite," Chloe said. "You know why it's in here?"
    "Why?" Tariq asked, intrigued.
    "So I can take it for myself once you leave," Chloe admitted happily. "Got to give the next client a bar filled with full bottles, you know."
    "How sly…" Tariq grinned. "What if we finish it?"
    "We?" Chloe asked, arching an eyebrow again. "I told you – I'm just having one."
    "Okay," Tariq said, raising an arm in self-defense while clinking ice cubes into a pair of whiskey tumblers with his other. "Oh, sorry – how do you drink it? Ice or no?"
    "Just a cube, please."
    "Perfect, same as me."
    Tariq flopped onto the comfortable leather sofa next to Chloe with two drinks in hand and offered one of them to her.
    "Thanks."
    Chloe once again kicked off her heels, curling her long legs in underneath herself. She sipped appreciatively at the fiery drink, enjoying the warm, comforting burn of the amber liquid as it made its way down her throat.
    "Good, eh?" Tariq asked, breaking a brief but comfortable silence.
    "I told you," Chloe replied, "it's my favorite."
    "I was surprised, to be honest."
    "I know you are – you didn't hide it very well," Chloe said pointedly.
    "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
    "Don't worry about it. My mother's Norwegian, and you should taste some of the filthy drinks they have out there. I guess it gets so cold that they'll drink anything to stay warm…"
    "Sounds like a place to avoid then…" Tariq joked.
    "It's lovely, actually. If you go in spring – well, what they call spring anyway, for us it's summer by the time the snows melt – then it's absolutely gorgeous up in the mountains. Did you ever watched the Sound of Music?"
    "No." Tariq chuckled. "I'm not sure that's exactly my type of film…"
    "No? I think you'd be surprised. Anyway, Norway's just like those Austrian mountains – beautiful fields of rolling wildflowers and grass, snow-topped mountains in the distance, that kind of thing. I try to get out there as often as I can."
    "I suppose," Tariq mused. "But then, I come from a country where the average temperature is well over one hundred degrees. I'm not sure Norway's for me…"
    As he was speaking, Chloe stretched, and somehow the tips of her toes found their way to his lap, sending a frisson of excitement through her entire body as she did so.
    "Maybe not," Chloe echoed, now continuing the conversation only half-heartedly, much more focused on the warmth pulsating through the connection of their two bodies. "But still, I think you'd like it."
    "Perhaps you'll have to take me," Tariq murmured, allowing his hand to fall to a rest on Chloe's ankle. She took a big gulp of the whiskey, allowing it to burn away her second thoughts about what was about to happen.
    She fixed him with a stare. "Maybe I will. Maybe we can take that big plane of yours."
    "Anything you want…" Tariq gasped as Chloe's toes danced around his crotch. "You can have."
    "Anything?" Chloe asked, a wicked look in her eyes, her body alive with sexual tension.
    "Anything," Tariq affirmed.
    That was it, the moment Chloe decided to jump the irresistible man sitting next to her. She sprang up like a lithe gazelle, coming to rest sitting on Tariq's lap, one leg on either side, and her pencil skirt awkwardly scrunched up.
    "You haven't finished your drink," she said huskily, noting the still half full tumbler of whiskey in his hand.
    His eyes burning with a kind of desire