The Sheik's Virgin Lover (The Sisterhood) (4 page)

“What’s so amusing?” he asked, handing her a plate filled with small appetizers, which she distractedly nibbled.

“I’m impressed with how you control the room. So many people want to talk to you and yet here we are, away from the crowd despite numerous attempts to lure you into a conversation about a multitude of issues, of which you sidestepped all of them.”

He leaned against a marble column, blocking her view of the rest of the crowd, creating a small oasis of privacy. “Yes. Here we are and you’re going to tell me more about yourself.”

Emma leaned against the wall and stared up at him. “I am?”

He leaned into her and that smile was back in his eyes. “Yes. You are.”

“And what if I don’t?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but took his time, searching her face, noting the delicate features and the perfectly porcelain skin. “Then I’ll be forced to entertain myself in some other way,” he said softly, his voice husky.

Emma knew exactly what he meant and she didn’t like that one little bit. “You’re not going to kiss me,” she said the first thing that came to mind.

He reached up and touched her cheek, his finger moving down to her neck and resting on the pulse at the base. “Ah, yes, my kitten. I am going to kiss you. And so much more. But first, you’re going to explain why you’re so terrified of this thing we have between us.”

“We don’t have anything between us. You live in one country and I live in another.”
“Is that the issue? That we live far apart?”

“No.”

“Because we can certainly enjoy each other while I’m here. And I can bring you to my country and we can continue to enjoy each other with much more privacy.”

Emma’s breath caught in her throat and she was unable to think or speak. Instead, she simply shook her head.

“Deny it all you want, my kitten, but we will be together. The sooner you realize that, the more pleasure we will give to each other.”

She cleared her throat and shook her head, trying to break the spell he was weaving over her. He was good, very good, she thought but she had to snap out of this. “And is it a relationship you’re looking for? Or simply a good time?”

She stumped him with that question, she thought. Score one for her. “Why complicate things with future issues? Why don’t we just get to know each other and figure out what we can do?”

“And then talk about the future?”

He didn’t miss a beat this time. Instead of responding immediately, he reached out and touched her earlobe, his fingers brushing ever so lightly against her skin, causing her to shiver. “You’re torturing yourself by denying this attraction.”

“You’re torturing yourself by assuming we’re going to do anything about it.”

He chuckled, no longer the hidden amusement in his eyes but a full out, soft laugh. “I think you are beautiful and talented, creative and interesting.”

“Why do you think I’m interesting? You don’t really know anything about me.”

“You run a facility for underprivileged children. That alone is fascinating.”

“Lots of people do what I do.”

“You’re wrong, Emma. Not many people take on the challenge. And certainly not many women. Why do you do that?” he asked.

Emma looked up at him and noticed that he was genuinely curious and not just asking a question to gain her trust. “I like my job and it makes me feel as if I’m contributing something to the world.”

“Most people simply recycle,” he replied with humor.

Emma couldn’t help it. His comment was so typical and so true that she burst out laughing. “You’re right, but those people do other things to help and don’t just recycle. Everyone is essentially good inside.”

He rolled his eyes slightly. “No, they aren’t.”

She stopped and looked up at him. In that unguarded moment, she again saw that anger and bitterness she’d witnessed the first time she’d met him. She’d interpreted it at that point as hardness but, seeing the anger in his eyes, she knew it was so much more than that. “I don’t know how you grew up, but hopefully someone will show you the good in people again.”

“I think I can find the good in you, Emma. Will you let me?” he asked with a silky voice.

“No.”

“You will.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t do casual affairs. And if I’m correct, you don’t do anything but casual, am I right?”

Instead of answering, he pushed away from the wall and took her hand once again, tucking it into the crook of his arm. “It’s time to mingle. Please introduce me to your friends.”

She blinked at that. “You want to meet my friends?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

She allowed him to tuck her hand into his arm, feeling special with his undivided attention despite herself. “Meeting my friends might mean you would get to know the real me and not some objectified version of who you think I might be.”

“I don’t objectify women,” he countered and walked back into the fray. Then spoiled it by leaning down and whispering in her ear, “Unless of course you are wearing thigh high stockings underneath that demure black suit.”

She almost tripped over her own feet and probably would have fallen if he hadn’t held her firmly against his side. Once she was more firmly established and walking with a bit more dignity and grace once again, she glared up at him. “You just made my point.”

She spent the next two hours by his side, despite her best attempts to slip away from him. Each time she tried to put a little space between their bodies, he foiled her attempts by smoothly and subtly moving her right back against his side. No matter how much she tried, he was too adept at manipulating the situation so that she was exactly where he wanted her. By the end of the event, she’d accepted that she was with him, at least until she could find an excuse to leave the hotel. She saw Darcy and Claire, two of her best friends since college across the room but couldn’t break away to talk to them. Her friends looked at her curiously but she couldn’t even escape long enough to explain the situation, but she knew that both of them would be waiting to talk to her, more than curious to find out what was happening.

By three o’clock that afternoon, she’d had enough. Turning to face him, she pulled away, and was surprised when he let her go. “Thank you so much for a wonderful afternoon, Your Highness,” she said with as much sincerity as she could muster. She was tired and frustrated and wasn’t sure if she wanted to reach up and pull his head down to kiss him or slap his handsome face. At this point, both options were possible. “I have another meeting but we’ll meet again another time, I’m sure,”

“We most definitely will,” he said and took her hand once again. This time, she was prepared for him and took charge, forcing him to shake her hand instead of kissing her fingers as he had the last two times he’d surprised her. That seemed to do odd things to her knees while a hand shake remained professional and assertive.

With that irritatingly amused expression back, Dharran took the offered hand. But with finesse, he pulled her close and, instead of receiving the kiss on her fingers, he brushed his lips against her cheek, breaking through her guard and shocking her all over again. “Until next time, my kitten.”

With that, he walked away, leaving Emma to stand there and glare at him as she tried to get her heart rate back under control.

“Wow, that was pretty steamy today,” her friend Claire said as she and Darcy walked up beside her. All three of them stared at Dharran’s back as he stepped into the elevators. Unfortunately, Emma didn’t turn away fast enough so when he faced forward in the elevator, he caught her staring at him and winked.

With a groan, Emma turned away and started walking towards the parking lot.

“No way, girlfriend,” Darcy said, pulling her back towards the hotel bar. “Fess up and give us the details. Where in the world did you meet such a scrumptious man?” she demanded.

Claire was just as adamant to get the details and both women dragged Emma over to a chair in the corner of the bar that had previously been hopping with lunch patrons, but was relatively quiet in the middle of the afternoon.

“Believe it or not, I met him at the center,” she told her best friends from college, both of whom also worked in the area, but in a much different capacity. Darcy was the daughter of a mafia mob boss, who constantly hid from him and his criminal cronies, while popping up once in a while to be seen at a nightclub in one fantastic city or another, getting paid tens of thousands of dollars just to show up and be photographed. Claire was a computer whiz who could hack into any computer around and wrote software that could conceivably bring down powerful nations if she set her mind to it.

While Emma had the curly, dark hair and the hippy outlook on life, Darcy had long, brown hair that was sleek and absolutely fabulous with soft, sage green eyes and the brains of a financier, who unfortunately had to hide both herself to avoid her father’s marriage minded attempts as well as her intelligence, in case the paparazzi ever found out that she was much, much more than a glitzy, flighty party girl.

Claire on the other hand, was a natural platinum blond with chocolate brown eyes and looked like a petite Marylyn Monroe, complete with the bombshell figure and a reckless attraction to live life as fully as she possibly could.

Darcy had a reputation for floating from one man to the next like a butterfly gathering nectar. The reality was the complete opposite. Her friend sequestered herself on an isolated farm, taking care of battered animals, bringing them back to life and trust with her kind, gentle ways and only appearing in public when she needed money to fund her animal shelter and buy medicine for their recovery. Claire, on the other hand, could wrap any man around her little finger and had them begging to do her errands for her if she’d let them.

The three of them had been on the same floor their freshman year at college and had instantly hated each other. But one night at a fraternity party, when everyone around them was drunk, the three of them ran into each other, literally, and had to work together to get out of a drunken brawl before one of them became seriously hurt. It was the first time that Emma knew that Claire could take down a man with a mean right hook, and the first time she knew that Darcy could stare a man to his knees. They’d been inseparable ever since, getting together for lunch at least once a week, and inviting each other to whatever social event they were obligated to attend, “just in case” another frat house party broke down, was their constant excuse.

“There really isn’t much to tell,” Emma explained once they all had a cup of tea and a bowl of salty peanuts to munch on. “I was playing basketball with a bunch of the guys and Father Mike last week. The basketball flew over the fence and crashed into that guy’s windshield. Next thing I knew, World War Three was about to start with machine guns drawn and the neighborhood families slipping to safety like a bad old west movie.”

Claire and Darcy continued to stare, waiting for more details. “And?” Claire prompted.

Emma shrugged and popped another peanut into her mouth. “There isn’t anything else. I gave him a tour of the center.”

Claire smiled, her eyes dreamy and hopeful. “And he made a wonderfully huge donation to the cause, is going to sweep you off your feet to some wonderful foreign land and make you his princess where you can apply your sweetness and grace to a whole country instead of one small part of our esteemed city.”

Darcy was in complete agreement as she added, “And he’ll take her away from the creepy eyes and pawing hands of our illustrious mayor.”

“What’s wrong with Charlie?” Emma asked, completely confused by their romantic tale which had no bearing on anything in reality.

“Charlie lusts after you but you wouldn’t know it because you’re oblivious to men, almost as bad as Darcy.”

Darcy looked confused. “I’m not oblivious. I just don’t want to get involved with anyone right now. Marriage is my father’s goal, not mine.”

Both Emma and Claire nodded their heads, understanding Darcy’s aversion to marriage when her father wanted her to marry someone in the organization. A daughter’s marriage was a useful tool that could solidify power and loyalty in the criminal organization.

“Beside, Charlie is very very married,” Emma said, getting back to the point.

Claire disagreed, shaking her head. “He’s married, but not happily. And his wife is having an affair with the CEO of some company in Maryland, hence the numerous trips to the shore.”

“That’s because of the bay project,” Emma countered.

“No it isn’t. I can give you names,” Claire argued, and popped a peanut in her mouth. “I read her e-mails after that last press conference. The one where she was walking away with the tall dude. He’s her man and the mayor is out. They’re together just for the election.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Want the e-mails?” she smiled.

“Isn’t that illegal?”

Claire shrugged. “Very definitely but I was bored that afternoon. So don’t tell anyone,” she said and leaned forward. “But you’re also not going to change the subject. Spill it darling. How did you and the prince-dude end up so chummy today? Did something happen during the tour last week that you’re not telling us?”