Authors: Amber Bardan
SIX
Haithem
T
HE
SIGHT
OF
her pink tongue sneaking out to lick the foam off her lips was enough to make me want to take her right where she stood. I restrained myself. She’d already tensed on deck. I had to be sure why she’d followed me.
I know.
Her pulse had raced against my mouth. Her breath had rushed beneath her breast. She wanted this. She wanted me.
Was desperate for the chemistry the two of us concocted in that one kiss. Something had held her back. Made her run away. But then she’d come after me.
And by the time we were done, I’d know the secrets she didn’t even know she kept.
A smile built on my lips.
“—graduated with a Bachelor of Arts with honors.”
The smile broadened.
I listened on the intercom to Karim reveal every detail of her sweet, exquisitely boring little life.
Perfect
. Everything about her was so perfectly normal. Her father was mayor of their suburban municipality. Probably impressive to neighbors.
“Are you ready to admit I was right?” I whispered in Arabic.
“Just because we didn’t find anything doesn’t mean there isn’t anything.”
I snorted. “She still lives with her parents.”
“Exactly why she’d be such a perfect plant.”
I shoved back the black ball of suspicion. Wouldn’t succumb to that today. There hadn’t been a time since this began where I hadn’t balanced on edge—all that I thought I knew slaughtered by what I might not. Yet, right then the air was breathable. Fertile and hopeful. There was more than
this
.
There might even be an after. If I survived.
I breathed that suddenly lush air.
After
. Why had the concept not occurred until now?
Angelina finished her champagne and poured another. Usually I didn’t mix sex and drink, but in this case the alcohol would help. She’d be more receptive if she relaxed. I’d have a better chance of convincing her to give me what I needed. She wouldn’t like my plans—pretty young women like her rarely did. They were too romantic, their expectations too high.
“You are a sore loser and we didn’t even bet for money,” I said. Either way, I had her now. There were just a few boxes to tick. A couple of edges to smooth, to make this all neat and tidy.
She caught my gaze on her and tucked a lock of her rich, not-quite-brown, not-quite-red hair behind her ear.
Fuck me, she’s lovely.
Big dimple in one cheek, smaller one in the other. Huge green eyes and curves I could drown in. I wasn’t sure what was riskier—letting her come along or letting myself taste something that could become an addiction.
I hung up the intercom and faced her. She clutched her glass to her chest and gazed at me. Caution was required. She was young, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, maybe intimidated by an older man. Might run, after all.
I had to be patient. But patience had never been one of my virtues—not that this life had left me with many virtues.
I took the glass from her hands and filled it with more champagne. No, I wasn’t above being a bastard to get what I wanted. I handed the flute to her and led her with a gentle touch on the small of her back to the couch. I didn’t sit next to her—that wouldn’t work. I took the armchair opposite and pushed it closer. She set down her glass.
Her gaze fixed on me, shining. She licked her lips. My hands curled. I fought the compulsion to leap up and show her exactly how I’d like her to use that tongue. Her eyes glittered, her color was high—she was ready.
She’d do as I wanted.
“Angelina, I’m glad you came.” I leaned closer. Tried to keep my tone light. “But we need to talk.”
She shifted, tugging her dress down. Her gaze fell to her knees. “Talk?”
I touched her thigh. She needed to look at me. “Yes, I’d like to invite you to spend some time with me.”
Her gaze snapped up. “What do you mean?”
I peered directly into the green of her eyes. “I want you to sail with me up the coast. Two weeks of sea and sun, on my yacht. You’d have everything and anything you desire...”
* * *
E
VERYTHING
AND
ANYTHING
I desire.
His gaze bored into mine—dark and hypnotic. My ears buzzed. The champagne had gone to my head. I’d thought I’d known my deepest desires. But now, sitting across from him, I realized I’d always denied myself the things I wanted most.
Like the warmth of getting close to someone. Really close. Close enough that it would break me again to lose them. Close like this, where there didn’t seem to be air between us. I could touch him, and I’d be swept away.
But go away with him?
I’d never been
away
with someone. I’d never been with anyone, period. It was easy to get lost in the magic, but this was real life. One that came with responsibility...
I studied the hand on my thigh. Huge compared to mine. Could swallow mine completely. Yet his thick fingers were still long enough to look nimble.
How was this even happening?
Me on his yacht, him touching me... I knew why I’d come. Sitting across from him, my hand in his, I wasn’t there for an article. But, why’d he go so out of his way to find me?
He could have anyone. Why hunt me down?
“
I can’t just leave for two weeks.”
He touched my chin and lifted, until once again, I was cornered by his gaze. The look he gave me was one I doubted anyone ever resisted.
“You can. You’re just afraid to take the risk.”
I breathed deeply, getting a little high on his delicious cologne. Maybe I could. Maybe I could say to hell with everyone else. Say the hell to
no
. Say the hell to caution. Do one thing, just one thing for me. For two weeks, leave absolutely everything behind and
escape
. But reality intruded, snapping at my conscience.
“You don’t understand—I have responsibilities.”
His touch moved to my cheek, stroking my skin. I couldn’t resist leaning my face into his warmth.
“I can take care of your responsibilities. Tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen. Someone to fill in at your workplace? Your dry cleaning collected, appointments rescheduled? Write me a list, and it will all be done.”
Warmth spread from where his fingers touched my cheek to deep in my chest. All my life—for so many reasons—I’d always faded into the background. Never felt as if I was a star in my own show. But in that moment, there was no denying
I was front
and
center.
“You’d do all that for me? Just so I’d come with you?”
His hand slid to the base of my skull and tugged me forward. His lips hovered over mine. “You have no idea what I’d do to have you, Angelina.”
My skin prickled, the hairs on my body stood erect and my stomach flipped over. How could he say those things to me? I’d never been wanted like this.
And by a stranger.
Why
?
I eased away from his lips, and his fingers trailed away.
“It’s complicated, Haithem.”
“Let me make it uncomplicated.” He looked me in the eye, so directly, so purposefully. “Do you want to come with me?”
I rubbed my palms on my thighs. A yes-or-no question. The air in the cabin seemed to grow thinner.
“Yes.” The word breathed out of me.
Yes
.
A simple yes. He smiled. The kind of smile that made my head spin. A satisfied smile, yes, but so warm and beautiful I had to grip my legs to keep from touching him.
“Good,” he said. “Then there’s just one other thing we need to talk about.” He reached for my hand, held it in his. The heat from his fingers enveloped mine, warmed me to the bone. “I’ve been in Melbourne on business.”
I watched his lips move, watched the way he pronounced every word so artfully. My attention pricked. He was going to tell me things.
“It’s very, very important business, Angelina.”
I nodded. Probably not as important as this, though. Probably not as important as what was happening right here. I could feel my cells vibrating in anticipation. Not of the impending revelations, not even of the mad-awesome sex I knew was coming, but in anticipation of doing this one wrong thing, this one selfish thing.
Of being a little bad and loving it.
“It’s important,
secret
business.” The hand on mine squeezed gently. “Do you understand?”
I slammed down from euphoria. The place in my head that had flicked back and forth between coming
for
him, and coming here
because
of him, switched gears.
He had secrets—
I knew it.
“Sure, you have important, secret business.” I leaned forward, attempting to sound uninterested, and put my lips closer to his.
He made a gruff sound in his throat and grabbed my chin as though stopping himself from kissing me. “It needs to stay secret.”
My heart sped up.
Ha
. Let’s not mention articles or exposés.
“Okay,” I whispered.
His thumb slid up and swiped across my lips. My mouth opened, and I tasted him. Tasted the salty clean taste of his thumb.
He dropped his hand and looked down at me through lowered lashes. “That means you can’t tell anyone about me.”
Well, that ruled out my editor and the wider public. That also ruled the whimsy out of his mysteriousness.
“You can’t tell anyone where you are going or how you are going.”
My head spun, and I snapped back against the couch. I glanced at the table with the champagne. I wouldn’t touch it again. The cabin seemed more real. I could smell the wood, the sea, the scent of
him
. I could see the shadows against the walls and dents in the carpet where someone had moved furniture.
This was real, and suddenly it felt dangerous.
Haithem didn’t waver, didn’t back down. He leaned in after me, and this time his eyes were deadly serious. “I’d need you to sign a confidentiality agreement.”
This wasn’t good. Not for an ulterior motive and most particularly not for me.
If he hadn’t been so close, if his voice didn’t crack with tension, if he didn’t make my heart race in a different, dangerous kind of way, I might have laughed.
Because this was crazy, so crazy. At most, the piece I’d planned to write on him would have been fun and frivolous. About a playboy. A teasing look at the unattainable and why that makes smart girls go crazy. But, who asks for a confidentiality agreement before hooking up with someone?
Whatever he was involved in, it wasn’t good. Things you need to hide rarely are.
I looked at the handbag I’d let fall to the floor, leaned forward slowly, then dragged it into my lap. “I’m not much of a liar, Haithem.”
That wasn’t even said for misdirection. If our conversation had gone any other way, I’d have come right out and told him why else I was there and hoped he’d help me out with it.
I stood.
He stood with me.
I slipped my handbag over my shoulder and glanced at the door.
“I’d pay you,” he said.
My gaze flew back to him. “What?”
“I’d pay you to sign it.” He slunk forward, somehow closing the gap I’d created before I could move any farther away. “I’d pay for you to keep my secrets. I’d pay for you to tell whatever lies you need to tell to satisfy whoever it is you’re afraid of lying to.”
Cold snapped the heat still zinging along my skin clear out of my system. I hadn’t heard him right. Surely he hadn’t just offered to pay me?
“I’m not taking money.” I scooted around him, sliding myself closer to the exit. “And honestly, it’s pretty offensive that you think I would.”
“Everything has a price, Angelina—everything.”
A chill crept up my neck, and I took another step.
His gaze tracked my movements. If I’d thought I could sneak toward the door all inconspicuously, I was wrong. He knew what I was doing, and damn him, he looked disappointed.
His mouth turned down at the corners. “I’ve never taken anything I wasn’t prepared to pay for.”
I flinched. What was I, then, something to be acquired? So much for romantic fantasy. But then that whole idea had died right about the same time he’d asked for an agreement.
“Well, you can’t pay for something that isn’t for sale.” I stepped again and swayed. Dammit, too much champagne. “I’m going.”
His expression hardened. He looked intimidating as hell, and I just bet that icy glare of his usually made everyone around him cave in to his demands. Arrogant jackass.
“Don’t run from me again, Angelina.”
The warning in his voice froze me. I shook my head. It was probably a good thing I’d found out he was a bossy, cold-and-dead-on-the-inside asshole now. Especially since he looked, smelled and tasted anything but cold.
He really shouldn’t have let me think there was more to this, that he felt anything special for me. Clearly, he saw this—saw
me
—as some kind of transaction.
I could think of fifty-one articles I could write about this the instant I left. Unfortunately none of those could be published under the umbrella of “sexiness.”
Disgruntled with malekind, ready to form my own all-female commune—those were not
Poise
magazine angles.
“I’ll do what I like.” I raised my chin and gave him a glare that dared to be challenged. “Next time you’re trying to get into a girl’s pants, maybe try not treating her like a whore.”
I didn’t wait to gauge his reaction, just turned to the door.
A touch on my arm stopped me. “Don’t run because I hurt your pride. There’s something between us bigger than pettiness.”
I looked at him. His lips pressed tightly. A squint fanned his eyes, almost as though he had emotions.
There’s something between us bigger than pettiness...
I don’t know where my fight went, but it ran out on me. Left me alone with Haithem to overtake my senses and do as he pleased.
He kissed me—seared me from the outside to my insides. Brutal, ruthless, possessive. His tongue invaded the cavity of my mouth, took everything I had. Stroked me, inflamed me until I held his shirt just to remain on my feet.