Surrender to the Sheikh

He really was the most wonderful dancer, thought Rose. She rarely danced properly like this—and never with a prince! It was h

eavenly to glide around the dance-floor in the arms of a man. Instead of everyone jigging about doing their own thing and usually managing to connect with her on the way!

He was staring down at her in a thoughtful way, and she immediately wiped the look of dreamy bliss off her face. ‘So you’ve given up, have you? You’re not very good at guessing, are you?’ she challenged.

‘Maybe not, but there are many things I am extremely good at, Rose,’ he boasted silkily, and chose just that moment to move a silken thigh between hers, immediately losing himself in an erotic dream of making love to her.

In time with the sexual boast, Rose felt the pressure of his leg, and the unmistakable iron of the steely muscle which lay beneath the delicate fabric. An unfamiliar hunger shot through her as she felt her heart-rate soar and something deep inside her began to slowly dissolve. She had to stop this. Now.

‘I’m a head-hunter,’ she said quickly.

Khalim’s dream was shattered by her words. ‘Head-hunter?’ he questioned, and frowned, his mind firing up with savage imagery.

‘Yes, you know—I find people for jobs!’

‘I know what a head-hunter is! And you are successful in your line of work?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Then, you must be a very intuitive woman, Rose.’ The tip of his finger rippled slowly over the curve of her waist and he felt her shiver in response. ‘Ve-ry intuitive.’

Warning bells began ringing in her mind. ‘I-I think I’ve had enough dancing,’ she said breathlessly, feeling ridiculously disappointed when he took her at her word and let her go.

‘I agree.’ The tug of desire had become persistent and uncomfortable. It made him want to take her. To…Khalim found himself having to fight for the rigid self-control which had been a fundamental part of his upbringing. And it was many years since he had had to fight for anything. He took a step backwards, steadying his suddenly shallow breathing.

Missing the feel of silk and the scent of sandalwood, Rose placed her hands over her flushed cheeks and could feel pulses fluttering absolutely everywhere. And it was only then she noticed that the floor was completely empty and that everyone was standing watching them.

‘Oh, my God!’ she moaned. ‘Look!’

‘It seems that we have inadvertently been providing the floor show,’ said Khalim, in some amusement, as he followed the direction of her gaze.

Rose’s distress grew even more intense, especially as Guy had chosen that moment to approach them and had clearly overheard Khalim’s remark.

‘A very erotic floor show,’ he teased.

Rose suppressed a groan. They had been acting like a couple of irresponsible teenagers!

‘We were simply dancing.’ Khalim shrugged, his black eyes sending out a conspiratorial gleam to Rose.

‘Is that what you call it?’ joked Guy. ‘Anyway, Sabrina and I are planning to leave now.’ His grey eyes crinkled as he looked at his best man. ‘And thanks for the honeymoon, Khalim.’

Silken shoulders were raised in a careless shrug. ‘It is nothing other than my pleasure to give,’ he drawled.

‘Sabrina told me the destination was a secret,’ said Rose.

The two men exchanged glances.

‘And so it is. Traditionally, a secret shared between the groom and best man. But do not fear, I will tell you later, beautiful Rose,’ promised Khalim softly.

‘Later?’ she asked, with a quick glance at her wrist-watch. Who had said anything about later?

‘But of course. You and I are going for a drink together afterwards.’

Guy smiled. ‘Are you?’

Rose saw the black eyes being levelled at her consideringly, saw the arrogant expectation that she would simply fall in with his regal wishes! And who really could blame him, after her shameless display on the dance-floor?

‘But you told me you rarely drink, Khalim,’ she reminded him innocently. ‘So wouldn’t that be an awful waste of your time?’