Shadow of the Sheikh (7 page)

She didn't think so.
Shahin might not be planning to let her go in the morning, but she had no intention of staying. Hello? She wanted nothing to do with a cult of vampires! Shahin wasn't
that
sexy.

Besides, he wasn't interested in her anyway. She was just
collateral damage
.

She tried to block him out, but his otherworldly energy, potent and shiveringly seductive, spilled through her, weakening her resistance. Her breasts tingled, and a rash of goose bumps splashed over her arms where his fingers touched her. Okay, maybe he was that sexy. But Sheikh Shahin was far too dangerous to mess with. This whole thing was dangerous and insane. She had to warn Joss.

She tried to pull away, knowing if she didn't,
she'd be lost. “We're not talking about me,” she insisted. “Or even Gillian. But Josslyn. Vampire or no, no one can make her marry a man she's not in love with!”

“It's not my decision,
kalila
. And from what I've seen, your sister is more than capable of taking care of herself and making her own decisions.”

“Yes, but—”

“Seth is very angry right now, but as I've told you, he is not a monster. I'm sure he will listen to her if she objects.”

“If?”

His tension gave way to a lazy, bone-melting smile. Watching the change in demeanor from captor to seducer, her whole body tingled.

“Seth-Aziz is a very powerful and charming man,” Shahin said. “I'm sure he will persuade her of his…many attractions.” He paused to let his gaze drift slowly down her body, then started to walk her backward into the tent. “And perhaps, my dear, it is time to persuade you of mine.”

Alarm buzzed through her. Along with an unwanted wash of intense arousal. Heavens. What was
wrong
with her? “Shahin—”

“I like how you say my name,
kalila
,” he murmured, parting the curtained door behind her with a hand and kept backing her up.

She struggled to keep her wits about her as she
was enveloped by the cool dimness of the tent—and a thick fog of awareness. His endearment echoed in her heart like a love song.
Kalila.
She really wished he would stop calling her that. It was messing with her will to stay strong.

“I'm not your sweetheart,” she croaked, pushing at his chest. But he was immovable. Like the Sphinx. “Are you a vampire, too?” she asked, terrified of the answer.

“No. Just Seth-Aziz.”

Thank God!
Her heart spun with relief. And something else.

“Worried?”

“What do you think?” She tried to wriggle from his grasp. It was no use.

His warm breath stirred her hair. “Why do you fight me?” he murmured. “You know we both want this.”

Maybe she did want him, physically. There was no denying it. But…if she gave herself over to him, what was she really consenting to? A brief fantasy affair…or to spend forever in some mythical cult she didn't believe in?

She licked her lips, desperately seeking a way to delay what seemed more and more inevitable. “I do want you, Shahin. But…I'm…I'm covered in martini and dust, and—”

He stilled and his expression turned wry. “Ah,
I understand. The desert heat. My smell offends you.”

“No, you smell wonderful. It's just—” She knew she'd made a tactical error when that lazy smile reappeared.
Damn.

“All the same, what kind of a gentleman would I be not to offer my lady a soothing bath after a hard day of riding?”

He didn't add. “and before indulging in a ride of a different sort,” but it was plainly written in the slant of his dark, languorous eyes.

She pulled at her martini-soaked shirt, pretending she didn't understand exactly what he was saying. “That would be, um, great.”

“Excellent. Come with me.”

If she'd expected him to call a bevy of servants to pull out a copper tub and heat water to fill it, giving her an hour or more to debate her options, she was sadly mistaken.

He lifted her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, then linked fingers and led her through another curtained door in the very back of the tent. “Here we are.”

Her breath caught. They'd entered a smaller tent that was attached to the main one like a satellite. But this room had a tile floor instead of carpets, and contained an elaborate stone basin, like a Roman tub, fed by a bubbling hot spring that cascaded
over the lip in a smooth, wide fall. A light mist of sweetly fragrant steam rose invitingly from the water, curling into the gauzy lengths of shimmery fabric that decorated the inside walls of the tent. The whole room had an air of sensual mystery.

He waved his hand and a hundred glowing flames sprang to life, lighting the drifts of candles that were scattered about on the stone surfaces.

Instantly, her qualms were forgotten. “Oh! It's lovely!” She went to the edge of the tub and dipped her fingers in. The temperature was perfect. She sighed in delight. The bathroom in the rental villa was primitive, the shower an ugly cement cubicle. She turned to tell him how much she was going to enjoy this.

And her breath caught again, this time for an entirely different reason.

He'd taken off his tunic, peeled down to his bare skin.

His chest was magnificent, broad and lean and olive tan. His abs were a rippling six-pack, all angled shadows, bisected by a light vee of black hair.

He walked over to the basin, sat down on the rim, and pulled off his riding boots. First one, then the other, hit the floor. “What are you waiting for,
kalila
?” She blinked.
Oh, lord.

“You want to…” She glanced at the swirling
water as he poured a handful of crystals into it and they began to foam. “Together?”

His brows rose. “That's generally how it's done. Unless you Americans have invented a new way I'm unfamiliar with?”

He obviously wasn't talking about bathing.

He untied the waistband of his trousers. They, too, dropped to the floor.

Leaving him completely, wonderfully, rampantly naked.

Not what she'd expected.

But oh. My. God.

Impossible to refuse.

R
ibbons of heat shot through Gemma from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.
Mine
, she thought giddily.
All mine.

“Shy?” Shahin asked when she didn't—
couldn't
—move. He came toward her. “Shall I undress you?”

“N-no,” she stammered. “I mean y-yes.” She slammed her eyes shut. Totally befuddled and embarrassed. “I mean—”

“Shh,” he murmured, reaching for her. “It's okay. I will bare your body for you.”

She stood immobile, helpless to move. Her blood was thick with want and her limbs trembled with
need as he, one by agonizing one, unfastened the buttons of her shirt. He pushed it from her shoulders, leaned in and brushed the tip of his nose along the side of her temple, burrowing into her hair, rubbing his cheek against hers in an impossibly sensual gesture. Not quite affection, not quite possessive, but something in-between.

Her shirt fell to the floor, and his lips moved down her throat, trailing along her collarbone and across her shoulder, leaving sparks of unbearable desire along the way.

He unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. When it was in midair he made a movement with his fingers and it disintegrated in a short burst of flame and smoke. Then his hands were on her naked breasts.

She gasped as he cupped them and flicked his thumbs across her nipples, as he had when they were on the camel. An excruciating need flamed through her. He teased and squeezed her until she thought she would go mad. She couldn't take this much longer.

“Please,” she softly begged. “I want you.”

“I know,” he murmured, shifting to unfasten her riding breeches and inch them down over her hips. “I have bespelled you.”

Her mind was too dizzy from his touch to truly grasp what he was saying. “Yes,” she agreed on a
soft, desperate moan. “I am completely under your spell.”

He lowered himself to his knees in front of her and drew off her boots, and in a twinkling, the rest of her clothes. When she was as nude as he, he gazed up at her. His black eyes burned with…she didn't know, but whatever the emotion, it was strong and fierce. And a little frightening.

Make that downright scary. Because the intensity of it only made her want him more.

How crazy was that?

He put his hands on her and ran them slowly, deliberately, over the flesh of her curves. She was ready to detonate. She wanted him on top of her,
in
her. Swallowing her up with his incredible sensual power.

He rose to his feet and cupped her face in his large hands. She could feel the barely leashed strength of his fingers as he caressed her jaw. She shivered.

“Please,” she whispered.

“No, I will not take you like this,” he said.

Confusion bewildered what was left of her brain. “I…I don't understand.”

“You are bespelled. Unable to say no. There is no honor in possessing a woman like that. It brings no real pleasure, for either of us.”

She begged to disagree.

Shaking her head, she reached for him. She
needed to feel his body against hers, skin to skin, his thick arousal completing her, filling her. Yes,
possessing
her. Her flesh ached for it. For him.

“Believe me, I don't want to say no,” she assured.

“That's because I took away your will to deny me. Yesterday, when I saw you at the temple, I put a spell of passion on you, and again last night in your dreams. It was essential you come to me, and the easiest way to accomplish that was to make you want me as a lover. I gave you no choice in the matter.”

Her
dreams?
Memories of the erotic dreams she'd had of him washed through her mind and body.

If she weren't so weak with unfulfilled need, she might be insulted. Her desire for him was as real as it got. Their attraction was strong and mutual. Not the result of some kind of voodoo magic. Or dreams.

“Wanting you was
not
why I came looking for you today,” she began, then paused for a reality check. “All right, maybe it was, but that was only part of the reason.” Unfortunately, she couldn't remember what the other part was at the moment. “Wanting you was just…” She faltered. What
was
it? Other than complete insanity? She licked her lips. “…a fantasy.”

He kissed her then. A deep, drowning kiss. And
said, “I hope I fulfill it. But I'm going to lift the spell now, so be prepared. Your true feelings about the fantasy may be…other than you think.”

Before she could really comprehend what he was saying—or doing—he moved his hand in front of her and said a few indecipherable words. She blinked, waiting for something to happen. For her burning need for him to lessen or evaporate.

It didn't.

She didn't feel any different at all. Just the same incredible attraction. The same dizzying want. The same overwhelming need to feel his body touching hers.

“I still want you,” she said, and pressed herself up against him. Frustrated from waiting. Breathless with anticipation.

Slowly, he smiled and gathered her close. “Good. Because I don't know if I could have stopped myself from taking you.”

With that, he swept her up into his arms and carried her over to the bath. He stepped in and let her slide down his body until her feet touched bottom. The water was deep, past her knees. It was deliciously warm and effervescent. Cascades of foam bubbles tickled her calves. The spicy fragrance of the crystals he'd added rose in intoxicating drifts.

His mouth came down on hers. Desire roared over her, stronger than ever. She lost all sense of
everything but him. His heat, his touch, his scent were all she knew.

Together, they sank down into the water, their kiss a living thing. Deep and intense, wet and thorough. Her heart pounded. Her body quickened and blossomed. Oh, how she wanted him!

“Shahin,” she whispered, and he gave a little groan, pulling her onto his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist, straddling his thighs, loving how he crushed her body to his. She could feel his arousal, thick and long, pressed intimately against her. And she knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“I don't want to wait any longer,” she murmured. She lifted up, inviting him to thrust in.

“No,” he growled, and banded an arm around her hips, pulling her back down onto his lap. But unjoined. “Not yet.”

She groaned in frustration. “Why? Another spell?”

“This one you'll like.”

He drove his fingers through her hair and wound it around his fist, tipping her head back. He kissed her again, thrusting his tongue deep, deep into her mouth. He lapped at her and sucked.

“Oh!” She gasped at an unexpected shock of sensation between her thighs. It felt like his mouth was on her there.
There.
Exactly where she wanted
him. He laved her mouth again, and she nearly detonated.

“Good?” he asked, low and rough.

“Mmm,” was all she could manage. How did he
do
that?

He suckled her tongue as she tried to catch the breath that had stalled in her throat. Pleasure flamed through her center. Her body bowed in his arms.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh, yes.”

He kept at it, making her writhe and pant in electric pleasure, taking her higher and higher until she cried out and came apart in his arms in the most intense climax she'd ever experienced. As her body quaked and shook with the force of her pleasure, the earth literally moved. Water splashed out of the tub in waves. Candles around the room toppled and sputtered out. The gauzy curtains rippled and swayed. He rolled with her until she reclined under him in the water.

“Ohhh,” she moaned as he released his mouth from hers and gazed down at her with glittering eyes. “That was…
amazing
.”

“We've barely gotten started,
kalila
,” he murmured huskily.

She didn't think she could move, so she just lay back and enjoyed his ministrations as he washed her body and hair. “You have wonderful hands,” she told him, closing her eyes. She could get used to this.

“You have a beautiful body,” he returned, his touch growing more intimate.

She smiled. And spread her legs for him.

“Are you a virgin?”

Surprised, she popped her eyes open. He didn't meet her gaze. “Um, no.”

There was a sharp rumbling and a few more candles tipped over. She grabbed the rim of the tub, looking around in alarm. “What
is
that? An earthquake?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice tight. “Earthquakes are my element to call. Sometimes it happens when I am excited. But more often, when I am provoked.”

She wasn't sure what to think—about either part of his confession. She picked the easier, but possibly more disturbing issue. “You're angry I'm not a virgin?”

His head gave a small shake. “No, not angry. Perhaps disappointed.”

His chauvinism was like a dash of cold water. “Shahin, you can't have it both ways. If I were a virgin, I wouldn't be here with you. I'd be safe at home waiting for a wedding band.”

“Oh, you'd be here,” he refuted in a gravelly, masculine growl that made her shiver. He dunked his head backward to rinse his hair in the falling stream of water. So damn sure of himself she wanted to strangle the man.

This was not exactly how the fantasy was supposed to go. So while he was rinsing, she got up and stepped out of the bath. She glanced around for a towel.

The water roared and he came up out of it like an avenging god. In less than a second he'd grasped her arms in an iron grip. “Where do you think you're going?”

Despite the absurdity of the situation, a prick of hurt lanced through her chest. She lifted her chin. “I wouldn't want to be a disappointment to you, Shahin.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” he ground out, water streaming in silver runnels down his hard body. “Of course you're not.” Behind her, a vase crashed to the floor.

She jumped, eyeing it. “Why don't I believe you?”

His mouth thinned but he didn't let her go. “I was born at a time when such things mattered, Gemma. I know better now. I promise. But sometimes it just comes flying out of nowhere. I'm sorry.”

He seemed so sincere she almost believed him. Almost.

His gaze drilled into hers. “I chose you,
kalila
. You could never disappoint me.”

For a split second she felt herself melting again. Except…then she remembered. He
hadn't
chosen
her. She'd simply landed in his sexual crosshairs because the demigod he worked for apparently preferred blondes.

Which was probably better than the alternative. But not terribly convincing of his genuine interest in her.

“Come to bed,” he murmured, putting his lips to her forehead. He soothed his hands down her arms. “Let me prove how much I want you. How little I care about your other lovers.”

His hands snaked around to her bottom and gently squeezed as he pressed her closer, center to center.

Okay, so a certain part of his interest was undeniably genuine. And convincing.
Very
convincing.

She shouldn't give in to him so easily, but she couldn't help herself. She still wanted him, chauvinist and all. “I suppose I could pretend to be a virgin,” she said with a moue.

“By Mithra's balls, no!” he said exasperated, and scowled. “I want you just the way you are.”

She smiled. So maybe he
could
be taught. “In that case,” she said, twining her arms around his neck, “I may just let you have me.”