Stop thinking like that. He’s just a guy.
“What are you doing here?” She leaned against the door, trying to hide the receiver behind it.
Imaad held up a bottle of red wine. “Thought you might want some company.”
Damn you, thoughtful man. “Well, I was just reviewing the merger documents. It might be a conflict of interest if you help me do that.”
“No, I didn’t come to work.” He wet his bottom lip, his gaze making an obvious trail up her body. “I came to help you relax.”
Every cell of her body lit up and she dropped the receiver. She hurried to pick it up but the tightly wound cord dragged it away from her, halfway back around the corner into the bedroom. She cleared her throat, declaring it a loss. She resumed leaning against the door.
“Why do you think I need to relax?” It was all she could come up with.
Imaad laughed softly and then stepped into the suite, squeezing her elbow as he passed. “Shall we open this now or later?”
She swung the door shut behind him, mind spinning with excitement. “Now is good.” But if this was heading where she thought it was, then they might as well not drink it at all. She started to follow him to the kitchenette but remembered her wet toe nails. This couldn’t have been worse timing.
“Um.” She bit her lip, looking at her feet. “I just did my nails.”
Imaad set the bottle down, turning to her. His eyes were so dark, but still they sparkled somehow, like the sea in moonlight. “That won’t be a problem.”
“No, it’s just that I painted them, and I don’t want to—” While she spoke, he came toward her. A moment later he swept her into his arms, grinning from ear to ear.
“I can help you out with that.” His strong arms encircled her, like a protective shield. She sighed, relaxing into the embrace, once again feeling drugged by the contact. He felt too good. Too damn good. It wasn’t fair.
“Well thanks,” she said, hooking an arm around his neck. She could get used to this. “Though I don’t need your help.”
“I never thought you did.” He went into the bedroom, the scent of his cologne searing through her. “But I want to give it anyway.”
There was something so simple and sweet there, she was hesitant to think too long on it. He lowered her to the bed gently, as if she were in danger of breaking.
“You don’t need to be so gentle with me,” she chided, pressing her palms into the mattress. “I’m not a fragile princess.”
“Can’t please you,” he said, with a trace of a smile on his face. He grabbed her at the hips, yanking her closer to him. “Is that better?”
Her breath caught in her throat. So that’s where he was taking it: exactly where she’d been desperate for it to go. Her legs fell open on auto-pilot. His warm groin found the space there and filled it perfectly, his lips hovering at her forehead.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Annabelle.” His voice came out a sexy whisper, one that would haunt her for the rest of her life. “I know this arrangement makes things feel odd. But it doesn’t have to.”
There was nothing odd about him between her legs. She hooked her ankles around his back, her nail polish the last thing on her mind. “We shouldn’t mess up the arrangement with a physical thing.” Her words were limp, void of conviction. “It’ll just be confusing.”
“But there’s nothing confusing about this,” he murmured, grinding his hips in a slow circle. The rock-hard shaft of his cock grazed her pussy, and she gasped, knotting her hand in the back of his shirt.
“I want you,” Imaad murmured, his breath coming out hot at her ear. “Since the moment I saw you. Arrangement or not, it doesn’t change how I feel.”
That was hard to argue against. Besides, it was true for her, too. No matter how much she tried to deny it. Maybe just for a while, there could be no strings attached. Just good, clean, sexy fun—two adults taking advantage of some alone time here and there.
“We’re adults, anyway,” she added, more for herself than for him. “I mean, I’m a liberated woman. This doesn’t mean anything.”
Imaad placed soft kisses along her neckline, making a velvety warm trail down her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut.
“The prenup is still going to be in effect,” she added, though it was hard to keep her focus. His kisses trailed to the valley of her breasts. “This is just, you know, fun.”
He murmured something and then nuzzled at her cleavage. His hands appeared at the hem of her shirt, pushing it up, revealing her belly.
Annabelle opened her mouth to add more but realized there was nothing left to say. Fuck it, anyway. She whimpered, arching herself toward him, and he pushed her shirt over her head and then tugged it off, tossing it aside. His fingertips danced along the line of her bra, making her skin goose pimple in its wake.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” Imaad said, sincerity swarming his gaze. Something in his tone told her he wasn’t lying. She wanted to deflect it, to write him off as a smooth-talking wooer, but she couldn’t find her voice.