Sheikh Without a Heart

And then, one morning, after another night spent walking the floor with Ethan, Rachel finally put him down for a nap. She was too tired to sleep, so went quietly downstairs for coffee.

It was very early. No one would be up and about yet. It meant, she thought, yawning as she stepped into the silent kitchen, that she could show up just as she was, in a long flannel nightgown, her hair loose and her feet bare, put up a pot of coffee and—

The kitchen lights came on.

Rachel gasped, whirled toward the door—

And saw Karim.

He was wearing gray sweatpants, a gray T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and sneakers that had clearly seen better days. His face and muscled arms glistened with sweat; his hair was in his eyes; his jaw was dark with early-morning stubble …

He was absolutely beautiful.

“I’m sorry—”

“I’m sorry—”

They spoke at the same time. Flustered, Rachel started again.

“I didn’t think—”

“I had no idea—”

Their words collided.

Karim grinned, took the towel looped around his neck and dried his face and arms.

Rachel bit her lip, then offered a hesitant smile.

“You first,” he said.

She swallowed hard.

“I was going to say that I didn’t think I’d be disturbing anyone if—”

“You’re not. Disturbing anyone. Disturbing me, I mean,” he said. “I just finished working out and I thought—”

“Working out?” she repeated foolishly, because she couldn’t seem to think straight. Well, who would? She hadn’t expected to see him …

To see him looking so male, so gorgeous, in such a non-princely outfit.

The thought made her laugh. She tried to swallow the laugh, but she wasn’t quick enough.

“What?” he said, with a little smile.

“Nothing. It’s just—I don’t know. I never imagined …”

“What?” he said again, his smile broadening as he looked at her. God, she was easy on the eyes. No make-up. Her hair a golden cloud. Her body hidden beneath the old-fashioned nightgown, just the sweet hint of breasts and hips …