Exposed: The Sheikh's Mistress

‘Sienna—’

‘No!’ she said fiercely, pushing away from him and scrambling to her feet. She had seen the brief darkening of his eyes, and she might be new to this game but she knew exactly what it meant. And did she trust herself around him? No, she did not. Her spirit might be fighting all the way, but around Hashim her flesh was as weak as it could be.

She moved as far away from him as possible. There was no dignified way of adjusting her dress and her panties, but she did her damnedest, raking her fingers back through the hair which had tumbled in untidy tendrils all down the side of her long neck.

And at least she had the enjoyment of seeing Hashim get to his feet and begin to rearrange his clothing, his face now tight with obvious displeasure and a simmering kind of anger. Or was it merely frustration?

She walked out into the hall, all the warmth and comfort and pleasure evaporating from her body like raindrops on a scorching pavement. And then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and recoiled at the sight of her flushed cheeks and mussed hair—the definite look of someone who had been rolling around the place.

How could she? Oh, how could she?

She picked up her handbag and a silken voice stopped her in her tracks.

‘Where do you think you are going?’ he questioned softly.

Composing her face, she turned round, and suddenly she didn’t care what he tried to threaten her with. Just let him try. Nothing could be worse than what she had just allowed to happen, despite all her supposedly good intentions. ‘Home,’ she said crisply. ‘Where else?’

‘You could come home with me.’

Sienna almost choked. ‘I’d rather spend the night in a lions’ cage! And anyway—I wouldn’t call a luxury hotel suite a home! It isn’t yours, it’s anonymous—just like this place. There’s nothing of you there, Hashim. A luxurious room with no soul. And that’s your life. Empty.’

For a moment a dark shadow passed across his heart. She dared to say this to him? To accuse him of an empty life? He, who had palaces and oil fields and people scattered all over the world who were eager to do his bidding? No woman had ever dared say such a thing to him. She was daring to look at him and speak to him as no woman ever had before…almost as his equal. Again he felt the sensation of being on unfamiliar territory, and his mouth hardened in anger.

‘I forbid you to go!’

‘Well, you can’t. You don’t own me. You don’t even employ me any more. I’ve done what you asked and now I’m leaving.’

His eyes narrowed as he glanced around the carved wooden interior of the airy hall. ‘And what of this house and your obligation to it?’ he demanded.

‘It’s not my concern. Not any more. You sort it out! Here!’ And she flung the keys at him.

He caught them one-handed, realising that she meant exactly what she said. She was leaving! Walking out on him even though she had been sobbing out his name only moments before. And suddenly he was filled with a reluctant kind of admiration which only renewed the subtle throbbing of desire. ‘Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look when you’re angry?’ he questioned softly.

‘Fortunately, most people have a more original line than that!’

‘But it is not finished yet, Sienna,’ he said evenly. ‘I tell you that quite unequivocably. You have but tasted the pleasures I can give you, and soon you will be greedy for more.’

‘Oh, but you’re wrong. So wrong.’ She stared at him. ‘After all, we’re even now. I deceived you, and now you’ve paid me back by deceiving me. We can call it quits. I just want to forget you and your fake party. In fact, I want to forget all about you.’

He shook his head and his mouth curved into a cruel smile. ‘You still don’t understand, do you, Sienna? Those are not my wishes—and the Sheikh always has his wishes fulfilled.’

He wasn’t listening to a word she said! Frustratedly, she turned away, and his dark laughter was still ringing in her ears as she slammed her way out of the front door, running down to where her beaten-up little wreck of a car was parked beside his smooth, dark sports model. And if she needed some concrete evidence of the insurmountable differences in their lives she had only to look at their two contrasting cars.

It’s over, she told herself fiercely.

So why did she look up into the driver’s mirror to see his tall dark figure, the silken pomegranate robes whispered by the breeze to caress that hard, honed body which had made such sweet and unforgettable love to her?

She turned the key in the ignition with an angry jerk. It was over.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                CHAPTER NINE