The Sheikh's Last Seduction

Sharif looked at her.

“It. Wasn’t. Me.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then her expression changed. “Oh.” If anything, she seemed to get even more embarrassed. “Sorry.” She wiped her eyes fiercely, tried to laugh. “I really seem to be messing everything up today.”

“You are really so upset about missing the civil ceremony?”

She blinked back tears. “I don’t miss things like this. I don’t. I’m the one that people count on. What if she needs me to take care of the baby during the ceremony? What if she’s upset because I’m not there? What if...”

“With all those guests around them, she probably didn’t even notice your absence.”

“I let her down.”

“You slept in. It happens.”

“Not to me.” She rubbed her hand over her eyes. “I’ll never forgive myself for this.”

“Why?” he asked gently. “Why are you the only one who has to be perfect?”

“Because if I’m not, then...”

“Then?”

“Then I’m no better than...”

“Who?”

Her china cup clattered against the saucer. Snapping her mouth closed, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I failed.” She looked away. “It’s getting to be a habit.”

The last thing Sharif wanted was to endure another wedding, especially one in some dreary Italian registry office. But looking at the misery on her beautiful, plump-cheeked face, he rose from the table. Tossing down his napkin, he went to her. “My car is parked in the barn. My driver is here...”

Irene looked up with an intake of breath. “You’d take me?”

“I’m willing to take you anywhere. Anytime.” He lifted an eyebrow wickedly. “I thought that was clear.”

She blushed but said stubbornly, “Their wedding...”

“Personally, I think attending one wedding is enough. I have no particular need to see it all replayed out, this time in a civil office. But if it truly matters so much to you...”

“It does!”

“Then I will take you. When you’re ready.” He hid a private smile.

Chugging down the rest of her sweet creamy coffee, she stood up. “I’m ready now.” Warmth and gratitude shone in her brown eyes as she clapped her hands happily, like a child. “I take back every awful thing I said about you!”

Impulsively, she threw her arms around him. He felt her against him, right through the fabric of his suit, to his skin, all the way to blood and bone. His body stirred.

Stiffening, Irene pulled back, her eyes wide. He looked down at her.

“Feel free to kiss me,” he said lazily, “if you feel you truly must.”

Her expression sharpened, and she pushed away. “On second thought, everything I said about you still stands.” She looked with self-consciousness to the right and left at the bodyguards. “When can we leave?”

“Now.” Lifting his hand in the smallest signal, he caused the four unsmiling bodyguards to fall in behind them, and they left the villa.

“This feels ridiculous,” Irene whispered, holding his arm as she walked close to him. “Don’t you feel like...like a prisoner getting escorted to your cell?”

At her words, the trapped feeling rose inside him, the one he’d been trying so hard to avoid, for a reason that had nothing to do with the bodyguards. The thing that had trapped him for twenty years, that was soon to lock him down forever, the thing he’d come to this wedding to try to come to terms with.

“I’m accustomed to it,” he said tightly.

She shook her head. “I understand that as a powerful man you need bodyguards, but it just seems like it would be impossible to have any private life, any life at all really, when you have such a thick wall between you and the rest of the...”

Her voice trailed off. Sharif smiled at the dumbfounded look on her face as she stared at his black stretch Rolls-Royce, complete with diplomatic flags, inside the large, modern barn. A uniformed driver leaped to attention, opening the door for them. Sharif indicated for her to go first, something that made his bodyguards look at each other behind their aviator sunglasses. Well, let them wonder about the breach in protocol. Sharif didn’t care. He climbed in beside her.

Irene’s mouth was wide as she looked around the backseat of the limousine in awe. Seeing him, she kept scooting, pressing herself against the far wall.

“Are you so afraid to be near me?”

“Um.” She stopped, looking uncertain. “I was making room.”

“Room?”

“For all the bodyguards.”

His lips curved. “One of them will sit up with the driver. The rest will follow separately.”