The Sheikh's Pregnant Employee (Almasi Sheikhs 3)

“Please.” Her heart hammered between her ears. Play it cool. She could be courting a billionaire, for all she knew. Some guy with a private jet and a thousand casinos. “How did you know I spoke English?”

He slid into the open seat, his gaze never leaving her. Cologne wafted toward her, something exotic and spicy. “It was a wild guess. Thought I would have a better shot speaking English with a foreigner than Farsi.”

“You have a point.” She bit back a grin. “So you’re from here?”

“Born and raised.” His English had a distant British lilt, like maybe he’d learned in a boarding school. “But I don’t think the same is true for you. Are you passing through?”

“Yes, unfortunately. I mean, not unfortunate that I’m here. I love that I’m here. But rather, that it’s so brief.” She forced a smile. The man made it impossible to think.

His grin widened. “What brings you here?”

I thought it had been my best friend’s wedding, but maybe it was to meet you. “Just traveling around for a bit. I’ll start here, move west and then north.” Why are you so hot?

He hummed low, as if assessing the route. But even that rang sexy and slightly animalistic to her. Like maybe that sound might pair equally as well with pushing her up against a wall and having his way with her.

“An exciting trip. How long will you be traveling?”

“Oh, about a year.” It felt good to say it—even better when his eyes rounded with admiration.

“That’s quite some time. What a noble journey. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about trips like that myself.”

“You should take one, then.” She shrugged. Come with me, why don’t you?

He smiled mysteriously, his gaze raking her up and down. “That’s a fair suggestion. What’s your name?”

She had to catch her

breath before she answered. “Layla. And you?”

“Zahir.” He held out his hand, and she took it hesitantly, like maybe there’d be a static shock. But instead of a zap there was only incredible warmth, a smoothness that begged her to feel every square inch of this man. Her breath hitched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Their grip lingered too long. Definitely too long. She couldn’t look away from him—it was like he’d roofied her only with his gaze. When their hands finally slipped apart, his lips quirked up in a secretive smile.

“May I buy you a drink?”

She shook her head. “Do you wanna get out of here?” The words flew out of her mouth before she could even think otherwise. Hopefully the dimness of the lounge would cover the blush in her cheeks. Zahir straightened a bit.

“I’ll follow you anywhere you take me.”

His words melted over her like butter on a hot stove. She pushed to standing, unsteady on her own two feet as she practically floated out of the nightclub, clutching Zahir’s wrist behind her. If this wasn’t the fastest pick-up in all of history… Something about this man just demanded it. It’s okay for things to be about sex sometimes. Especially when the guy you’re inviting back to your all-expenses-paid penthouse suite looks like he commutes to work in a helicopter and Gucci underwear.

She made a note to look at his underwear brand in the penthouse. Pushing out into the warm air of the Minarak evening, Zahir turned to her, his jaw impossibly square. In the comparatively quiet air outside, he looked somehow even more perfect. As if every last hair on his head was individually styled.

“I’ve called my driver. He’ll take us wherever you’d like to go.” His warm hand appeared at her waist, drawing her near. She inhaled sharply, pressing herself against him. Heat rolled off of him in waves, nearly drowning her in his scent.

A few moments later, the car pulled up. Zahir held the door open for her and she slid into the backseat. Remarkably similar to the car that had picked her up from the airport, but maybe that was what all the top-end sedans were like here. Zahir, too, had something familiar about him. A distant impression of Omar, but again—she was probably just seeing similarities between the only two Parsian men she knew.

The car ride was quick, but they descended into making out even quicker. His lips were salty and warm against hers, needy kisses sparking like a forest fire. Heat prickled through her, sending her senses into overdrive. When the car pulled up to the hotel, she could barely detach from Zahir’s face to make it out of the car.

Outside, he smoothed down the front of his suit coat, looking toward the hotel. “Nice place.”

“Yeah, I’m staying here for a while.” She grabbed his hand, leading him inside. She couldn’t have hidden her smile if she were forced at gunpoint. Zahir played it cool, and when she sidled up to him in front of the elevators, he stiffened.

“We should wait until we’re inside your room,” he whispered hotly into her ear. He squeezed her hip, which sent a lightning bolt of pleasure down to her toes. “What I want to do to you shouldn’t be seen by others.”

Her thighs clenched involuntarily. She looked up at him to say something, but her voice had shriveled.

“Cameras follow me occasionally,” he added.