The Sheikh's Stubborn Lover (The Adjalane Sheikhs Series Book 2) Page 8
She stopped pacing and faced him. “I think we’ve both dodged the truth long enough.”
Adilan’s heart skipped. He strode to her side. “If you think to leave me, I warn you I will follow you to America or anywhere else in the world. I did not tell my father I wished to marry you to get the land—I told him that because it is the truth. Malid made me see it. He was the one who said I was in love with you—and that was why he wanted to save me from you. But I am not my father. I will not be happy to let you run away from me. I will follow you. I will court you. If you date other men, you will see me staring at them, willing them to go away. I knew the moment I saw you that there could be no other woman for me in this world. I love you, Michelle Reynolds. I will love you until my last breath and beyond that into paradise.”
She arched one eyebrow. “Are you done?”
He nodded and held his breath. Would she deny him? Laugh at him? He had never asked any woman to marry him—he had never cared what any woman felt. Now he knew the terror of having bared his deepest heart to another. If she scorned him, his heart would break—but he would not give up on trying to win her love.
She came over to him and put a hand on his chest. “I did not plan on falling in love with a sheikh. I am not sure I’m going to love living in Al-Sarid—so far it’s had its ups and downs. But…but every time I’ve thought about having to leave you…Adilan, sweep me off my feet. Please.”
He did, pulling her into his arms, kissing her as if his life depended on her returning his passion—for it did. He pulled her with him to his bed, swept her up in his arms and laid her down. “I don’t think I can be slow and tender right now.”
She sat up and pulled off her suit coat. “Best news tonight.”
He shed his clothes then helped her from hers. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her, and plunged into her. She gave a gasp and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Adilan,” she murmured. He came with a small, strangled shout, and under him Michelle gave a small cry.
Staring down at her, he held her close. “Stay with me tonight.
Michelle smiled. “Where else would I want to be?”
Chapter 17
Michelle watched out the town car’s window as the city of Al-Sarid passed by. The city was an amazing place, and she had grown to love it. The temperature was still warm, even with winter coming. She was so glad she’d decided to wear a light dress of sheer pink with a cotton sheath underneath. She had covered her hair with a pink scarf—it was a practical custom, given the heat and the dust.
Having lived in Al-Sarid now for three months, she had come to understand some of the language and most of the customs—so far the balancing act of compromise between her world and Al-Sarid was working.
And the sanctuary was done.
It had been a struggle—she had Adilan had argued, compromised, had to find more money to finish the project, but it was done. Adilan was always reminding her that she deserved nothing but the best things in life—she was always reminding him that a budget wasn’t a bad thing.
The driver—young and full of enthusiasm—pulled up outside rocks that still hid Al-Hilah. This was one of the arguments she’d had with Adilan. She’d argued for easier access; he’d said paradise had to be earned. They’d settled on a paved walkway that made handicap access possible.
Getting out of the town car, Michelle grinned at the bright red sports car already parked nearby. The parking lot was like everything here—it blended perfectly with the surroundings using local rocks and paving stones. She remembered the first time she’d come here and she’d been unable to put a name to the vehicle. She now knew it was a Tesla. Adilan had been able to change his plans and meet her out here after all.
Her heart skipped a beat. Even just the promise of being able to see him was enough to kick it up a few beats per minute. She made her way to the entrance, still a narrow canyon. Guards—or greeters as she liked to call them—met her inside. Since work had begun on the sanctuary, she’d not been able to visit. Some of the craftsmen were old and old school—they believed the presence of a woman would bring bad luck, and so she’d let Adilan handle the site supervision. The photos he’d sent her didn’t do the place justice.
The sand pathway still opened out into green and blue water. But now the surrounding sandstone mountains sheltered domes and structures that seemed carved into the rock.
The oasis pool spread before it, the water mirroring the blue sky above. Stones had been artfully placed, providing a perfect place step into the water. The foliage had been extended and now filled every inch of the valley. Handmade furnishings blending perfectly to create a unique space like none other.
She made her way along the path, stepping up onto the stone patio of the first mud and stone house and turning back to admire the beautiful scenery.
From behind her a deep voice asked, “Do you like it?”
Michelle turned and met Adilan’s eyes. “It is better than paradise.” She still thought he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her life. He was dressed all in his usual white trousers and shirt. With his sharp features and dark eyebrows, and barely-there beard, he looked like a desert sultan who ruled over this paradise. As always, it was his eyes that captured her attention and held it.
She’d learned over the last few months that his eyes were indeed the windows to his soul. She had also learned to tell what he was thinking about just from their color—and from the fact that that darker color meant he was thinking about grabbing her and having his way with her.
“It’s better than I imagined.”
Coming up to her, Adilan put his arm around her. “I thought we would get married here. Just family. Yours and mine.” She glanced at him, puzzled. He put an airplane ticket into her hand. “I have arranged for your mother to visit. This is a first class seat.”
“But your father...her…her condition?”
He grinned. “The two of them have been Skyping to each other. It seems there is still some embers of kindness in an old love. And now that Al-Hilah is back in my family—”
“And Al-Hilah is still in mine, too,” she added.
“They have nothing to fight over.”
Michelle smiled. “Except what to name the grandchildren.” She put a hand over her belly.
Adilan’s eye widened. “What—you are? You’re expecting.”
She shook her head. “I missed a period. I haven’t done any tests or seen a doctor, or—”
He swept her up into a spin, laughing. “Children! Father will be delighted. We must marry soon—he would not like the children not to have a name.”
She shook her head. “They’ll have a name and love and that’s that. Married or not, this baby will be loved.”
Putting her down on her feet, he took her face in his hands. “The first time I saw you, I knew my life would never be the same. We were meant to be together. You are my heart and my breath. Hayet albi enta. You are the life of my heart.”
“As you are mine,” she told him.
He kissed her and said, “I want you to stay here in Al-Sarid with me. I want to see your stomach growing round with our child. I want to see the gray appear in your hair as we grow old together.”
She smiled and put a hand over his. “Just as long as we take trips to visit mom. I’m sure she’ll make a trip here to see the sanctuary—I’m hoping it’ll help her. But if she’s not doing well, I want to be able to spend time with her. And I want our kids to know both worlds. They’ll grow up knowing what we had to learn about how to juggle two cultures.”
Adilan kissed her again. “I love you. uhibboki. And of course we will travel. Our children will be children of the world—not just of one country.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Michelle smiled. “Now, how about carrying me off to a beautiful oasis in the desert? Oh, wait, I guess we’re already here. So what are the accommodations like? You haven’t shown me the bedrooms yet.”
He grinned. “You are a seductress. A houri crea
ted to torment men and drive them mad—or at least drive them to great deeds. A jiniri with your blue eyes and pale skin sent to make men wish to be more than what they are and to bring fantasies to life for any man lucky enough to catch you in his arms.” Pulling her close, he whispered in her ear. “Do you wish to make use of the bed or is it a swim you prefer?”
She stepped out of his arms. Pulling her dress over her head, she dropped it on the ground. Naked now, she took his hand. “You helped me keep my promise to my mother, and you kept yours to your father. But I want you to know you’re the perfect man for me. I never thought I’d find that—and I really didn’t expect to find the happiness I have here. So come and make love to me, Adilan. Take me to paradise in your arms. Because that’s the only place I ever want to be.”
Grinning, Adilan stripped off his shoes, trousers and shirt. He took her in his arms, pressing her body close to his. “My little American—you never have to ask me twice for that.”
THE END of
The Sheikh’s Stubborn Lover
Book Two of the Adjalane Sheikhs Series.
Book Three, The Sheikh’s Reluctant American, out January 2016!
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The Sheikh’s Unforgettable Lover (The Sharqi Sheikhs Series Book One) (Click here to read now)
Kim Atkins watched Sheik Karim Sharqi lift free weights on the courtyard below her, sweat glistening off his body in the intense ssunlight. Staring down at him, she had never seen a man so strong, so muscular, so *crane alluring, as she imagined that perfect body pressed against hers, his hands holding her waist as she stroked his rippling muscles.
Kim turned her head to see three maids watching him from a distance. One of them was fanning herself as they whispered and giggled amongst themselves. Kim did not blame them -- Karim Sharqi was a very attractive man.
Closing her eyes, she imagined herself looking into his eyes, his dark hair neatly framing his face as his brown eyes smiled down at her. In her mind, she fisted her hand to keep from touching his perfectly straight nose perched atop luscious lips that invited her to lean in for a kiss.
She briefly wondered what his stubble would feel like rubbing against her fevered skin, as he kissed his way down her body. She swayed slightly on her feet as her all too active imagination made her body tingle at the thought of his touch.
“Does this sentence make sense?” Amare asked, interrupting her daydream.
“Huh?” Kim snapped out of her thoughts and returned her attention to Amare. She had forgotten where she was and what she was doing. “Sorry, show me,” she said and took the notebook from him.
Kim had originally come to Saudi Arabia as an ESL (English as Second Language) teacher and when her contract was over, she was fortunate enough to be hired as a private tutor for Amare, the youngest son of Sheik Saeed Sharqi.
“Well done,” Kim said, as she handed the notebook back to him.
“Thanks.”
“You’re doing really well, Amare.”
“Really? I am?”
Kim grinned at him, tousling his hair, “Yes, you are.”
“Cool. Father expects me to excel on all my exams,” he told her as he squeezed the notebook before setting it down.
“I have no doubt that you will.” Kim smiled at the young sheik. She was impressed with how hard he was working. When she had first accepted the job, she did not expect to meet such a serious student. In her experience, children born with silver spoons in their mouths tended not to work very hard.
“Not only should I work hard, I should be top of my class,” Amare said solemnly.
Kim raised her eyebrows. “That is a lot of pressure.”
“My father wants nothing but the best.”
Kim sighed. She had heard that the Sheik was strict but she could not believe how much pressure he was putting on his son. She was glad that she had not been raised with that much expectation to do well in school. She flipped open her folder and pulled out a poem.
“We’ll do the best we can,” she said, handing him a sheet of paper. “See if you can interpret this poem for me.”
“Sure.”
Whilst Amare was reading the poem, Kim’s gaze travelled back to the courtyard below. Karim was still outside in the courtyard working out and was currently doing push-ups on the slate tiled floor. The muscles in his back tensed up as he bent his arms and slowly lowered himself down.
He had taken off his shirt and his torso was bathed in sweat as Kim contemplated licking the salty sweat from his chest. Lost in thought, she watched as he reached for a towel and slowly dried the sweat from his body leaving Kim to wonder what it would feel like to stroke her fingers along those rock hard abs.
A noise from behind her made her jump as she finally realised that Karim was looking straight at her with a smirk on his face. She gasped and looked away quickly.
“Crap,” she muttered under her breath.
The Sheikh’s Unforgettable Lover (The Sharqi Sheikhs Series Book One) (Click here to read now)
His Stubborn Lover Excerpt
When your job is protecting people, the first rule is…never mix business with pleasure.
Keira Mantz has been given the job of a lifetime, and she refuses to fail. Trained as part of an elite security team, her first mission is to protect the Sheikh of Jawhara and his wife. What she thought would be a solo operation, though, is suddenly a two-person job. Her partner is none other than Brock Wells, the Viking-like team member who trained her. The last thing Keira wants is Brock stealing her thunder, but she’ll do whatever it takes to succeed—even if it means pretending to be in love.
When Brock finds Keira in a bar fight and offers her a place on the team, he knows she is the right choice. With her mile-long legs, fierce determination, and unwavering focus, he has no doubt she can hold her own. But with the threat to the Sheikh closer than
they realized, Brock has no choice but to intervene. To give them the cover they need, they’ll have to act like they’re a couple. Although Brock told himself he’d never get close to another woman, the job always comes first.
When their ruse becomes a little too real, can Keira and Brock risk letting their guards down, or will admitting their feelings put others’ lives in danger?
Available now, CLICK HERE.
Brock Wells exited the bar, heading for his ’66 Mustang. The twang of a sad love song followed him out, and his head buzzed with the four beers he’d had. The team had just finished a training operation in South America and Slade had given everyone some much needed time off—meaning Brock had come home hoping to find some female company.
He’d hit a bar that was a ways off from his usual haunts, looking for a stranger with doe eyes and a body that could make him forget just about everything. Tonight, however, his batting average was about as good as the one of whoever wrote that love song.
Well, it was probably better this way. Slade had no rules against team members getting hooked up outside of the teams, but he also didn’t like sending anyone into the thick of things if they had attachments. That was where Brock liked to be—in the middle of the worst trouble. This meant that Brock liked his girls for one night only, and every girl in that bar had had the hungry look of a woman hunting a man.
It looked like it was going to be an early night with the UFC channel and a few more beers for him.
Glimpsing movement from the corner of his eye—three figures under the glare of the parking lot lights—Brock stopped, and everything else went into automatic assessment. Some habits never went away, and the ones from his days as a SEAL were deeply ingrained.
Two guys, one woman—and yeah, he wasn’t being paid by Slade for this one, but he also wasn’t wired to look away. He headed over, took up a spot that gave him the advantage, since it put him right behind the guy holding the knife, and boxed the trio against a battered pickup. He offered a friendly grin. “Looks like a party.”
The two guys—good ol' boys by the looks of the wife-beater shirts and sagging jeans, and none too smart to go by the eyes glazed by drink and drugs—glanced at each other. The guy without a knife nodded at the half-empty parking lot. “Get lost.”