The Sheikh's Unruly Lover (Almasi Sheikhs 2)

“Hm. You seem like a pretty good boy to me.” She leaned forward, conscious of her spilling cleavage. “What’s an example of you being bad?”

He wet his bottom lip, his gaze not moving from hers. She could practically feel the skin sizzling on her face. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to say. Bad boys don’t share.”

“Oh, jeez. Now I’m really curious. This probably has something to do with your brothers, right? I bet you three got into trouble back in the day.” She cocked a smile. Fire sizzled between them. Take the ball and run with it.

He chuckled throatily, and at the same time the waiter arrived with their dishes. Talk about poor timing. She received her plate gratefully, something with lamb and an impossible name. Omar looked just as disappointed as she felt.

The conversation flowed back to non-suggestive things, maybe due in part to the slurping and inhaling taking place over the plate in front of her. By the time their plates were cleared, Marian was stuffed and feeling significantly less sexy in her black dress. Maybe she should have left Omar at the hotel so she could bloat and grunt in peace.

But no, he was worth the discomfort of sucking her belly in post-meal. Especially when shivers thrilled through her almost any time he even glanced her way.

“So. Now that we’ve finished eating…I have a question for you.” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth, placing the napkin on her plate. “Do you think we can salvage this deal?”

“No work talk,” Omar said, his firm voice feeling like a sizzling slap on the ass. “That’s a rule of mine.”

“Ever?”

“Outside of work,” he clarified, a boyish grin covering his face. “I devote enough of my time and energy to that place; I need to draw the line somewhere.”

“Hmmm. In that case…” She glanced over her shoulder. “Maybe for dessert, we should…go someplace else?”

The question hung in the air for a bit too long. Each second that dragged by felt like its own separate “no.” She was crazy. She was hallucinating the attraction. She needed to stay in her lane. He was a coworker, not a booty call. Every negative thought possible crowded her mind, filling her with doubt.

“Marian.” Omar wet his bottom lip again, his eyes fastened on the tabletop. “We need to keep this professional.”

Regret lashed at her, forced her to pinch her eyes shut with embarrassment. What had she been thinking? The sexy fantasies featuring Omar dissipated in a puff of regret. You’re an idiot to think he’d ever want to try anything with you.

“Right.” She forced a tiny grin, trying to shake the stinging rejection. The sense that no matter how craftily she used her feminine wiles, she couldn’t get the hottest man in the world to say yes to her.

The waiter came with their bill, and Omar scooped it up before she could protest.

“You don’t have to—” she started.

“But I want to.” Omar sent his card with their server, leaving them in a tense silence.

“Listen. I’m not trying to be a creep or anything,” Marian said, eager to smooth over the blip from a few moments ago. “This won’t affect our professional relationship. I need you to know that. I’m just…a fun gal. I like to go do things, get to know new people. That’s all.”

“Of course.” Omar took a sip of water, his eyes over her shoulder. Maybe he was wishing the waiter would return immediately. “Don’t worry, Marian. There’s no problem.”

The waiter returned a few moments later, and Marian drained the rest of her wine. She and Omar walked to the front door, but she’d never felt so awkward and bulky beside a man before. Was this the self-esteem boost you were looking for?

Outside, Omar hailed a cab, and again several pulled over. He spoke to a driver through the front window, then held the door open for her.

“He’ll take you back to the hotel,” he said with a small smile. “Have a good night, Marian. See you tomorrow morning. I’ll send a car for you.”

He shut the door, leaving her in a gloomy silence in the back seat.

Even though it wasn’t devastating or heart-wrenching or traumatic or anything of the sort…it still felt like it. Because there had been a secret voice inside her, whispering that Omar was on her level. Hoping that someone like him might be willing to have a connection with someone like her.

Just one little thing was missing: mutual attraction.

6

Omar paced the length of his office the next morning, as jumpy as if he’d overdosed on caffeine. But he hadn’t—not by a long shot—and was simply anticipating Marian’s inevitable arrival.

His willpower had taken a nosedive once he’d gotten home the night before. He’d gone straight to the shower and worked himself to an orgasm that made his knees buckle, Marian’s image burning bright under his eyelids. That in itself felt like a betrayal. He’d had s

ex since his wife passed, but nobody had had that mystifying link to Anahita like Marian did.