The Sheikh's Captive American (Zahkim Sheikhs 1)

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted to wipe away the days apart and go back to the magic of the oasis. She also wished she could smooth that line from his forehead. But he looked utterly untouchable in his custom suit—and utterly like the Sheikh of Zahkim.

She gave her head a little shake. "It's about your grandmother—and Phil. And I think some kind of prophecy."

Chapter Thirteen

Tarek pressed his lips tight against the curse that almost slipped out. Of course his grandmother had been plotting something. He shook his head. Moving to the windows, he stared out at the skyline.

"It's widely known in Zahkim that a fortune teller—an old woman, really—spoke a prophecy to me. I had just graduated from Oxford and was about to come home, and this…this woman said an angel would fall out of the sky and save the country." He turned to face Tess and lifted a hand. "My grandmother is convinced that you are that angel. According to the supposed prophecy—and my grandmother—I must fall for you or all will be lost."

Tess made a face and smoothed her hair. "Well, as prophecies go, that's not bad, and you think…what? It's all ridiculous?" Tess stared at him as if searching for a hint of something.

"Of course it is. Any rational person would agree, but she can only see what she wishes to see. She has been working hard to make sure you stay in Zahkim, so that the prophecy will be fulfilled. I have been undoing many of her attempts since you arrived, but I must have missed this one. I will ensure your friend is permitted to leave the hospital, and everything will be ready for you to return home tomorrow. You will have your life back."

Tess smiled, but her expression seemed to falter, and that searching look had not left her eyes. Tarek fought the urge to go to her, put his arm around her. He must keep his distance. He must.

Tension had him wound tight. He had the military out now to ensure order. The airport was open again, but the city seemed on edge. He was still fighting with his ministers over the expense of the repairs and with the wealthy who wanted no more talk of taxes. He almost wished he could simply wrap his arms around Tess and forget everything else.

But they were done. He had worked her out of his system.

So why did he want to hold her still?

In two steps, he stood next to her. He brushed a lock of red hair back from her face. "Tess…?"

He didn't know what he was asking or who moved first but her arms came around him, and his mouth covered hers. He wanted his hands on her, managed to find skin under her colorful top. She had his shirt out and her fingers were brushing his back, and he groaned.

He knew he was lost again. He wanted her, and that was all that mattered. He wanted—needed—to get his mouth on those pink nipples. He had her shirt off and all that skin bare. She slipped from her jeans and pushed on his chest. He fell backwards into a chair. She fumbled with his belt and zipper. He pulled her black bikini underwear from her. She straddled him in the next instant and slowly lowered herself onto his cock.

He gave a small groan. Glancing down, he could see the roundness of her hips, the curling red hair on her mound, and the place where he disappeared into her. Where he ended and she began.

He put his hands on her hips "Ride me until you come. Take everything you need." This would be his parting gift to her—and to himself.

Smiling, she began to move, slowly at first, smooth undulations that set him on fire. He lifted his hands to her breasts and cupped them, ran his thumbs over her nipples.

She threw her head back and let out a long sigh. "Touch me, Tarek. I need…"

"I know." He skimmed his hands down and slipped a finger between them to rub her clit. She arched, and he put his mouth on one hard nipple.

He sucked hard, pressed the tight nub to the roof of his mouth with his tongue. Her hips bucked and he bit down on the nipple in his mouth.

Her whole body spasmed. She groaned, and her inner muscles contracted on his cock, squeezing him. He came, jolts of lightning shooting through him. With a soft moan, she fell forward onto him, shivering.

Slowly, his breath came back to him.

Rubbing her back with one hand, he said, "I didn't use a condom." In his desperation to have her, he had forgotten.

She sat up and shrugged. "I'm on the pill."

Vague disappointment settled in him. He fr

owned. Tess seemed to notice for she wiggled and slipped away from him. She began to gather her clothes.

Tarek stood and tried to right his clothing, but Tess's scent clung to him. He wished… “You could stay.” The words, so long suppressed, finally escaped.

Tess blinked rapidly, and he saw a glimmer of something in her eyes. “What would I be staying for, Tarek? Long, lonely hours and a good, hard fuck when you can fit it into your schedule? Just another version of a harem girl. Not interested. It wouldn’t be rational to stay, would it?”

Her words—his own words—hit him like a physical blow to his chest. Ah, she was good at that. And she was always, always right. He nodded. "I’ll get you on your way, then. My grandmother is a wily old bird with her own way of getting things done. I am sorry if she caused you any inconvenience. I hope you can forgive her offense.”

Half undressed still, jeans in her hands, Tess tipped her head to one side. “She believes I'm your—what? Salvation? You've got to cut a woman some slack on that."