Promised To A Sheikh. Carla Cassidy
return to the hotel room to attend to some business.”
“Of course, I understand,” she said, but he thought he saw a whisper of disappointment in her eyes. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Dine with me tonight?”
“I’d love to,” she replied.
“Good, then I will send the car for you around seven.”
“I’ll be ready.”
How he wanted to gather her back into his arms and taste the sweetness of her lips. But he knew now was not the time or the place.
“She is perfect,” he said to Rashad moments later, when they were driving back to the hotel. “She is perfect, just like I knew she would be. I have made a wise and good choice.”
He stared out the window, thinking of the woman he’d just left, then looked back at Rashad. “She is intelligent and sensitive and has a compassion inside her that will make her valuable not only to me as a man, but to my country as my queen.”
“And it doesn’t hurt that she is not hard to look at,” Rashad said slyly.
Omar grinned at his assistant and friend. “No, that certainly doesn’t hurt.”
He redirected his gaze out the window, his thoughts once again filled with Elizabeth. He liked her even more than he’d thought he would. He’d known from her letters that there were many things he admired, but he hadn’t expected to enjoy her company quite as much as he did.
Of course, his feelings for her would never deepen into anything remotely resembling love. His father, Sheik Abdul Al Abdar, had warned him from an early age that love took away a man’s power, made him look dependent and weak in the eyes of his countrymen.
Love was out of the question—but desire certainly wasn’t, and the thought that Elizabeth had never been with a man before stirred Omar with anticipation.
If he could seduce her tonight, he had a feeling she would easily succumb to his wishes that she marry him.
He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, planning the seduction of the lovely Elizabeth Fiona Carson.
In a jungle in a rain forest in the Central American country of Mezcaya, Luke Callaghan leaned his head back against a tree trunk, closed his eyes and for a moment imagined he was back home in Texas.
The sound of distant gunfire, the buzz of the infernal mosquitoes and the exhausting humidity seemed to fade away as he thought of home.
Luke had grown up on an estate twenty miles north of Mission Creek. Orphaned at seven, he’d been left an amount of money that made him a millionaire many times over, but he’d never cared much about the money.
The military had provided the family Luke had wanted, and now at the age of thirty-four he had achieved his desire. He was a double agent, working for the military in a position so secretive even his best friends didn’t know about it.
He smiled grimly and raked a hand over his jaw as he thought of his buddies back home.
They would all probably think he was off on another party jaunt, wining and dining women all over the world. None of them would believe that he was in a stinking jungle fighting terrorists.
His mouth watered as he thought of a rack of ribs dripping with barbecue sauce. Ribs and a cold beer—that was the first thing he’d order when he got back to Texas.
If he ever got out of this infernal jungle alive.
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