Exposed: The Sheikh's Mistress

‘Maybe I find that the memories there are too tainted,’ he mocked. ‘Or maybe I find that I just can’t resist the attractions on offer here…’ Once again he let his eyes linger with insolent hunger on the swell of her magnificent breasts. ‘Your…reputation in the capital is growing, Sienna,’ he added silkily.

She didn’t suppose he was alluding to her backlog of satisfied clients. It was not a compliment at all, but a thinly veiled insult, implying…implying…Oh, she knew damn well what he was implying! Feeling as though her lungs had been scorched, she sucked in a breath to steady herself. ‘But presumably you’re not expecting me to work with you,’ she said quietly.

He gave a heady, husky laugh of anticipation. ‘For an employee you sure as hell make a lot of presumptions. It could get you into a lot of trouble if you’re not careful.’

She had forgotten what a curious mixture he was, of the ancient and the modern, the forward-thinking and the ludicrously old-fashioned. He was one of the most intelligent men she had ever met—so why the hell was he deliberately misunderstanding her reservations? ‘Oh, Hashim—don’t be so…dense!’

‘Dense?’ He tilted his chin imperiously and his eyes narrowed into glittering ebony shards. ‘You dare to address me—a sheikh—in such a way?’

In the past he had never pulled rank—but then he hadn’t needed to. She hadn’t cared about his position—hadn’t even known about it to start with. And by the time she did it hadn’t mattered. Or at least she’d thought it hadn’t—but that was yet another indication of just how out of her depth she had been. Because of course it had.

It had mattered a lot.

CHAPTER TWO

SHE should never have met him, of course, for theirs were two such different paths in life—destined never to cross. But country girls sometimes went to live in big cities and became receptionists in super-smart hotels—the kind of places where you bumped into real-live sheikhs when you were on your way to work. Just like a fairy tale. And sometimes the fairy tale came true—but what it was easy to forget was that there was always a dark side to the story.

Sienna had gone to London for the usual reasons—and then some more. In the midst of crisis she had needed money and a solution. And after that…Well, after that she had needed to forget. And, as well as offering her anonymity, the big city had also offered her the opportunity to work her way up the ladder in the hotel industry—and to live rent-free in one of the most expensive parts of London. A perk which had made up for the long and unsociable hours.

The first time she had seen Hashim, Sienna had been on her way to the hotel for a late shift. It had been a beautiful day, and she’d been enjoying the sunshine.

She’d been wearing nothing out of the ordinary—a floaty kind of summer dress—but her hair had been down and she’d walked with the unconscious vigour of youth. In her daydream she’d barely noticed the slight commotion of people milling around the dark-windowed limousine of the world-renowned Granchester Hotel.

And then she had seen the figure emerging from the car. He’d been tall, with a natural autocratic poise, dressed in a coolly pale suit which had made the dark olive of his skin look so silken. It had gleamed soft gold and contrasted with the hard ebony glitter of his eyes.

For a split-second as they’d looked at one another it had been like something out of one of the old-fashioned films she’d always been a sucker for. As if she had been waiting all her life to see just that man looking at her in just that intent and interested way. His eyes had narrowed as a bodyguard had shot an arm out in front of her, bringing her to a halt.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she had protested, and the man had smiled a hard kind of smile, and then said something in a husky tongue which was foreign to her.

‘Let her pass,’ he clipped out, as if he was translating the command for her benefit, and the bodyguard grunted and moved aside. Sienna inclined her head.

‘Thank you.’ She walked off down the road, somehow aware that the black eyes watched her, burning into her back, branding her with their strange exotic power.

And then, a few weeks later, he came into the hotel and Sienna just froze.

He looked…she swallowed…he looked so vibrant…so different—as if someone had plucked a bright and very exotic bloom and placed it in a vase of white flowers. She could see people in the foyer giving him sly little glances, and others—women—giving not so shy ones. And his two bodyguards—ever-present in the background, solid as a brick wall and silently sending out messages to keep away.