The Sultan's Harem Bride
She gulped, shocked. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d done? She’d told herself she was running so late and it wouldn’t matter if she was braless as no one else would know. But she’d known and with every step, as her tight nipples grazed cobweb-soft silk, she’d thought of Asim.
‘Now your hair. Take it down.’
‘No! Anyone could come in.’
‘No one disturbs the Sultan unless invited.’ He spoke with such certainty it hit her anew that he was a man used to having every order obeyed. ‘Now, take it down.’ Dimly she registered surprise as excitement rather than anger rippled through her.
Part of her wanted to comply. The part that had come alive under his touch and the velvet caress of those dark eyes, not to mention that potently deep voice. But this was broad daylight. They were in his office. They couldn’t...
The molten heat between her legs told her they could. That she wanted to.
‘Last night I stripped when you asked me, Jacqui.’
Is that what he wanted? A striptease? Her heart hammered so heavily against her chest she wondered if she’d feel bruised later. A shot of adrenalin, heady as neat alcohol, pulsed into her blood.
Her? Strip for him? Horror merged with excitement to skate down her backbone then burrow through her belly, transforming into butterflies the size of buzzards.
She hated baring her body.
Yet last night he’d made her believe he looked at her skinny frame and saw a different woman to the one she knew.
Fear sliced through her and embarrassment. That pulled her up short.
Did she really want to go back to being the woman she’d been before last night? The woman who hid herself in non-descript work clothes? Even if all she’d experienced with Asim was an illusion, it was an illusion she craved.
Did she dare? Anxiety cramped her stomach.
Her hands went to her ponytail. A few practised flicks and her hair fell in waves around her cheeks and shoulders.
‘Now the trousers.’ His voice was gruff. She couldn’t read his face. Yet even after a single night she recognised the edge in his voice. No matter how he tried to hide it, Asim was as desperate as she. At least she hoped he was.
Praying he was right and no one would dare enter, she snapped open the button on her waistband, lowered the zip and wriggled till the fabric pooled at her feet. She felt shockingly vulnerable yet daring.
Her skin was so sensitised the air on her legs felt heavy. She breathed deep and told herself she wouldn’t regret this. She wouldn’t allow herself to.
‘Now come here.’
Gingerly she stepped out of her trousers, leaving her shoes behind, and padded across the carpet. With each step tension coiled higher, till she stopped before him. Now she read his expression and was glad she hadn’t been able to earlier. He looked so fierce that heat licked inside. His eyes glittered as she imagined those of his warlike ancestors might have when they’d spied a trade caravan loaded with riches entering their realm.
She shivered and rubbed her hands up her arms.
‘You’re cold?’ Still he didn’t touch her. She shook her head and he nodded, a tiny, knowing smile lifting the corner of his mouth. ‘You won’t be for long, Jacqueline. Sit on my desk.’
She followed his glance to the antique desk, bare except for a sleek computer and a single tray of papers.
Arousal shuddered through her as she pictured making love on that gleaming surface. It would be hard, fast and satisfying. She wanted him so badly she almost obeyed without a word of protest. She, who’d never been intimate with a man before last night!
‘You’re sure no one will come in?’ Excitement and dread warred.
‘Be assured, Jacqueline. We won’t be disturbed. My secretary has left and locked the outer office on the way out.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You told him to? But he’ll know we’re...’ She shook her head as words failed her.
A small voice inside jeered that, standing almost naked, she’d left it late to have second thoughts.
‘Fahid is utterly discreet. You have nothing to worry about.’ Asim stepped closer and at once the vast study shrank. She felt crowded, excited and aroused, yet at the same time annoyed.
This was utterly unfamiliar territory. Last night had turned her inside out, made her question long-held certainties and put her trust in a man she barely knew. Even so it had felt right.
Now, abruptly, standing half-dressed while he calmly gave orders, unease spiked. If only Asim had come to her, embraced her, done something other than bark instructions. Tension crawled along her shoulders. Indignation rose. She might be desperate but she had some self-respect.
‘Do you make a habit of seducing women on your desk?’ The words shot out and she raised her chin, battling to hide churning distress.