Diamond in the Desert

She didn’t know whether to be outraged or in for the journey. When would she ever get another chance like this, for goodness’ sake? And with Sharif’s dark gaze drawing her ever deeper into his erotic world, and the knowing curve of his mouth reassuring her, there was only one reality for her, and that was Sharif.

‘And now you have a job to do,’ he said, breaking the dangerous spell. Removing the cushions, he carefully eased her legs down.

‘What?’ she said, wondering if this was the moment to admit to herself that she would walk on hot coals if that was what it took to have Sharif touch her again.

She followed his gaze to the dish of cream.

Desert robes were intended to come off with the least amount of trouble, Britt discovered as she loosened the laces on the front of Sharif’s robe. As it dropped away to reveal his magnificent chest she realised that she might have found the sight of such brute force intimidating had she not known that Sharif was subtle rather than harsh and, above all, blessed with remarkable self-control.

She was glad when he turned on his stomach and stretched out. She wasn’t sure she was ready for the whole of naked Sharif just yet. This warrior of the desert was a giant of a man with a formidable physique. Using leisurely strokes, she massaged every part of him, though had to stop herself paying too much attention to his buttocks. They might be the most perfect buttocks she had ever seen on a man, buttocks to mould with your hands—to sink your teeth in—but there was only so much cream to spare, she reflected wryly as he turned. ‘Did I say you could move?’

‘Continue,’ he murmured, settling onto his back.

Okay, so she could do this—and with Sharif watching, if she had to. Hadn’t they both seen each other naked in the snow? And was she going to turn her back on Sharif’s challenge? Because that was what this was. She had acted big-time girl-around-town, and now he’d called her bluff as she’d called his at the ice lake. He’d come through that with flying colours—flying them high and proud.

How could she ever forget?

She took her time scooping up more cream in her hands and spent ages warming it until she really couldn’t put off what had to be done any longer. She began with his chest, loving the sensation as she spread the cream across his warm, firm flesh. She moved on down his arms, right to his fingertips where she spent quite a lot of time lavishing care and attention on hands that were capable of dealing the most extreme pleasure—and gasped with shock when Sharif captured her hands and guided them down. They exchanged a look: his challenging and hers defiant.

He won.

Thank goodness.

Sharif had creamed her intimately and she would do the same for him...

Maybe they both won.

She took her time to make certain that every thick, pulsing inch of him was liberally coated with the cream. She was breathless with excitement at the thought of having all of that inside her—

‘So, Britt,’ he said, distracting her momentarily. ‘You’re beginning to see the benefit in delay.’

‘And what if I am?’ she said carelessly.

‘Don’t pretend with me,’ Sharif warned, stretching out, totally unconcerned by his nudity.

As well he might be, she thought, admiring him in silence.

‘So what do you think of my golden room of pleasure?’ he demanded.

‘Not bad,’ she agreed. She’d come across perks in business before, but none like this.

‘So you like it?’ he said with amusement.

‘It’s fascinating,’ was as far as she was prepared to commit. ‘Okay, so it’s fabulous,’ she admitted when he gave her a look.

‘But?’ he queried.

‘It’s got such a vibe of forbidden pleasure—how can anyone be here without feeling guilty?’

‘Do you feel guilty?’

Actually, no. The cream was beginning to do its work. ‘It’s just that this is the sort of place where anything could happen...’

‘What are you getting at, Britt?’

Her throat tightened. ‘I’d like to hear about all the possibilities,’ she said.

And so Sharif told her about the various uses of the hard and soft cushions, and the feathers she had been wondering about. She blushed at his forthright description.

‘What about your sauna in Skavanga?’ Sharif countered, seeing her reaction to his explanation. ‘What about your birch twig switches?’

‘They are used for health reasons—to get the blood flowing faster.’