The Sheikh's Captive American (Zahkim Sheikhs 1)

"Tess…"

His eyes were autumn warmth, now, not snapping fire. She wanted to touch his cheek but knew in her gut it was too soon. Instead, she lifted a peanut-butter-slathered apple slice and held it out to him. He bit. Chewed. Tess tried to read his face, but it was a blank slate.

Finally, he swallowed and grimaced. "That's terrible."

Tess burst into laughter. She finished the chunk, not minding the bite he'd ta

ken out, and made a show of smacking her lips. He smiled, shook his head, and offered her the pepper he still hadn't eaten.

She licked her lips, then used the tip of her tongue to swirl around the end of the vegetable. Licking it like an ice cream cone. Or a cock. His eyes darkened, and she smiled, put her mouth around the treat, and slurped off the dip. She could practically hear the fuck that ran through his mind. When she finally took a bite, he shuddered.

"That's delicious," she said. "What is it?"

"You’re killing me, Tess."

She put on her best innocent look and pretended she didn’t know what he meant.

They kept on feeding each other. He ate her apple plain—after one more bite with peanut butter to confirm his distaste—and she ate his veggies and the dip. She only reluctantly reclaimed her hand to slice the apple and spread the peanut butter. They finished and cleaned up together. Tess let her hand wander again as they stood at a sink to wash up.

Before she realized what was happening, Tarek had spun and had her pressed up against the closest refrigerator. She could feel his erection against her mound, and she shifted her hips, signaling her eagerness for more.

“Don’t tempt me, Tess,” he growled. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing, Tarek. We have something—”

“No.” But he lowered his mouth to the side of her neck and kissed, bit, and she bucked at the jolt of pleasure he sent through her. Wetness seeped out between her legs. God, he turned her on at light speed. She wasn't good at listening to the common sense at the back of her head that told her she was only setting herself up for an even harder good-bye.

His lips claimed her mouth. She opened for him, battled with him for control of this kiss. Then his arm wrapped around her as he began a full-scale assault. His beard scuffed her chin, and she thrilled at the roughness. His hand slipped under her shirt, the skin-to-skin contact hot as a brand.

She whimpered with want, and he jerked away. Without his heat, she felt only the cold of the stainless steel appliance behind her.

“There’s no sense to it,” he said. “No logical way to make it work. There’s nothing between us but a good, hard fuck.” He frowned for a moment, as if he wasn't certain about something, and then he said, his voice husky, "Spend the day with me tomorrow. I'll show you my city."

"Where’s the sense in that?” She threw his words back at him, more hurt than she wanted to admit at his dismissal of the connection she knew was real and strong.

“Just come,” he commanded and then stalked out of the kitchen.

Tess tried to catch her breath. "Oh, girl, you are getting in way too deep with this guy," she muttered.

Chapter Eight

Tarek never did get back to sleep. Every time he came close, the memory of Tess's mouth, her body against his, that sexy little sound she made when she wanted more brought him to high alert all over again. He was hard, and his own hand was unsatisfying. At dawn, he rose, showered, dressed, and stalked down the hall to the dining room, stopping only when Farid called out to him from behind. What could be so wrong that he was not even allowed his first cup of coffee?

He turned to glare at Farid, whose face paled. To the man's credit, he only stumbled once and immediately straightened before he stopped in front of Tarek.

"I haven't even had breakfast yet, Farid. And I plan to spend the day with my guest."

Farid stood even taller and pushed his shoulders back. "Sir, word has gotten out about the reform memo from yesterday. Sheikh al Qamar and Mr. Dobbel are now waiting in your office. Your cousin Sheikh Arif asked that you be told at once. He is doing his best to alleviate their concerns about the new taxes."

Tarek cursed under his breath. "So it begins. We make progress a tiny bit and already some want to drag us back. And how did that little tidbit of information leak, anyway? Don't answer that. I don't want to know."

"The main markets are also reporting a shortage of fresh produce and some meats due to the airport being closed and transportation being so difficult."

Tarek sighed and shook his head. His day was already not going as he wished. "Tell Arif I'll be there at once. And please send word to Te…to Miss Angel that I have been delayed. She shouldn’t wait for me." Tarek glanced down at his casual clothes. He could not meet two of the richest men in Zahkim in khakis. "And now I must change."

It took three days before Tarek had smoothed things over. After the meetings with the rich, he was back again meeting with his labor ministers. Everyone wanted reassurances—the rich that they would not lose their wealth and the workers that they would get the higher wages they’d been promised. And for some reason, all of them expected an audience with Tess. He made sure all of them were disappointed on that matter. By the end, Tarek was ready to take them all out to the middle of the desert and leave them.

At last, he seemed to have everyone settled again—and the agreement was almost ready to be put into law.