The Sheikh's Undoing

Tariq dropped his briefcase to the floor and frowned. He’d been anticipating …

What?

A blush at the very least! Some stumbled words which would acknowledge the amazing thing which had taken place last night. Maybe even a little pout of her unpainted lips to remind him of how good it had felt to kiss them. But not that cool and non-committal look which she was currently directing at him.

‘I’ll make you a coffee,’ she said, rising to her feet.

‘I don’t want coffee.’

‘Tea?’

‘I don’t want tea either,’ he growled. ‘Come over here.’

‘Where?’

‘Don’t be disingenuous, Izzy. I want to kiss you.’

Desperately she shook her head, telling herself that she couldn’t risk a repeat of what had happened. He was dangerous. She knew that. If she wasn’t careful he would break her heart—just as he’d broken so many others in the past. And the closer she let him get the greater the danger. ‘I don’t want to kiss you.’

He walked across the office towards her, a sardonic smile curving his lips as he reached for her, his hand snaking around her waist as he pulled her close. ‘Well, we both know that’s a lie,’ he drawled, and he brushed his lips over hers.

Isobel swayed, and for a moment she succumbed—the way women sometimes succumbed to chocolate at the end of a particularly rigid diet. Her lips opened beneath his kiss, and for a few brief seconds she felt herself being sucked into a dark and erotic vortex as he pressed his hard body into hers. Her limbs became boneless as she felt one powerful thigh levering its way between hers, so that she gave an instinctive little wriggle of her hips against it.

Until common sense sounded a warning bell in her head.

Quickly she broke the contact and stepped away from him, her cheeks flushing. She cooled them with the tips of her trembling fingers. ‘D-don’t.’

‘Don’t?’ he echoed incredulously. ‘Why not?’

His arrogant disbelief only made her more determined. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

‘Not to me.’

‘Because … because I don’t want to. How’s that for clarification?’

Tariq’s gaze ran over her darkened eyes and the telltale thrust of the taut nipples which were tightening against her dress. His lips curved into a mocking line as he transferred his gaze to her face. ‘Really?’ he questioned softly. ‘I think the lady needs to get honest with herself.’

Stung by the slur, but also aware of the contradictions in her behaviour, Isobel shook her head. ‘Oh, Tariq—please don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying that I’m not attracted to you—’

‘Well, thank heavens for that.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘For a moment I thought my technique might be slipping.’

‘I don’t think there’s any danger of that,’ she said drily. ‘But I’ve been thinking about last night—’

‘Me, too. In fact I have thought of little else.’ His voice softened, but the blaze in his black eyes was searing. ‘You’re now regretting the loss of your innocence? Perhaps blaming me for what happened?’

She shook her head. ‘No, of course I’m not blaming you. I’m not blaming anyone,’ she said carefully. ‘It’s just I feel I’m worth more than a quick fumble in the office—’

‘A fumble?’ he interrupted furiously. ‘This is how you dare to describe what happened between us?’

‘How would you describe it, then?’

‘With a little more poetry and imagination than that!’

‘Okay. That … that amazing sex we had, pressed up against the wall of your office.’ She sucked in a deep breath—because if she didn’t tell him what was bugging her then how would he know? ‘And you then treating me like a total stranger in the car before waltzing off to your fancy party at the embassy.’

Tariq narrowed his eyes with sudden comprehension. So that was what this was about. She wanted what all women wanted. Recognition. A place on his arm to illustrate their closeness—to show the world their togetherness. But wasn’t she being a little presumptuous, in the circumstances?

‘I didn’t touch you because I knew what would happen if I did—and I had no intention of walking into the party with the smell of your sex still on my skin. No.’ He shook his head as he saw her open her mouth to speak. ‘Let me finish, Izzy. It would have been inappropriate for me to take you to the party,’ he added coolly. ‘For a start, you weren’t exactly dressed for it.’