A Sheikh To Capture Her Heart. Meredith Webber
Sunset Beach was her sanctuary on this island and the sooner she got there the sooner she might be able to work out why she’d suddenly taken leave of her senses.
Calmly telling that man she wouldn’t mind an affair!
That was what she’d said, wasn’t it?
And from what part of her obviously impaired brain had those words sprung?
Although, remembering the heat of that one long kiss, she doubted her brain had had anything to do with it.
Even so …
She was clambering over the rocks now as the tide was in, but her mind raced to find an explanation for her behaviour.
Once on the beach she sat in the shade of the rocks—it was really far too early for her to be out here—and let the beauty of that special place calm her racing heart.
In the beginning, all she’d had room for in her heart and mind had been her grief, the grieving process isolating her from others, so she’d barely noticed that the sensual part of her nature had died along with David and her unborn child.
But seeing Rahman al-Taraq—Harry—again at the cocktail party had not only brought back memories of that dreadful day but, contrarily, had reawoken her senses. She’d been so startled by the unmistakable surge of attraction she’d felt towards him that she’d denied ever having met him and fled the party.
Yet, once reawoken and stirred, those parts of her that had lain dormant would no longer be denied, and over the following weeks she’d dreamt, at times, not particularly of Harry but of the pleasant, teasing sex she’d shared with David, although sometimes in the dreams he wasn’t David, and sometimes in the dreams she’d wanted more …
She shook her head, sighed, and stared out at the translucent water that ran over the reef through the lagoon and splashed on the beach near her feet.
Was it because she’d finally got her life back in order—had put herself together again, albeit like a jigsaw with more than a few pieces missing—that her libido had returned?
Whatever!
It wasn’t the whys and wherefores of her returning hormonal rush that she had to consider but what she was going to do about it.
Have a brief affair?
A fling?
Get it out of her system?
But could that happen?
Might she not want more?
She sighed again then reminded herself that if she did there were other men out there—for companionship, a bit of fun and pleasant, perhaps even exciting, sex.
She glanced up at the sky, hoping that wherever David’s spirit was he wasn’t privy to her thoughts.
Then she smiled!
It was David who’d taught her it was okay to enjoy sex—more than okay. David who’d taught her it could be fun as well as unbelievably intense.
David …
Harry felt as if he’d been pacing his room for hours. The woman—Sarah—had calmly told him she wouldn’t mind having an affair then, equally calmly, had walked away.
Well, probably not as calmly—that kiss had been hot!
What made it worse was that she hadn’t actually said it was him she wouldn’t mind having an affair with!
No, she’d just wandered off as if the whole almost clinical discussion had never happened.
He had to find out.
Would she be at the beach?
He’d been told she went there at sunset every day when she was on the island, but today?
His body was so taut with wanting her he felt the slightest bump might shatter it. He’d been okay until she’d more or less said yes.
He tried to analyse his feelings.
Attracted, yes.
Desire spiralling within him, definitely.
But strung tight like this?
This was new and he was unsure what it meant.
Best not to think about it. Go around to the beach—with something on his feet—and see if she was there.
He saw her as he reached the rock fall, long white arms stroking rhythmically through the water, little splashes as her feet kicked, her wet hair appearing almost black against her pale skin.
He crossed the small sandy area to where her clothes were piled under a pandanus palm and picked up her towel, carrying it down to the water’s edge and waiting for her to come out.
She rose like Venus from her shell, shaking her head to clear the water from her hair, the paleness of her skin seeming lighter against the black swimsuit that moulded a perfect body with full breasts, a narrow waist drawing the eye to her hips and from there to her long, long legs …
She looked up, saw him—and smiled.
The tightness in his body zeroed downwards, and his hands trembled as he draped the towel around her shoulders, holding it closed beneath her chin.
‘You’re shaking,’ she murmured, looking up into his face, perhaps reading the naked need he was feeling.
‘You’ve bewitched me,’ he muttered, his reaction to this woman so strong he wondered if maybe the encephalitis had returned and he was delirious.
He breathed deeply, calming himself, then wrapped the towel completely around her, leaving his hands at the back of her waist, easing her body closer.
Kissing was close, but for now it was enough to hold her, more than enough that she didn’t push away …
Sea-green eyes looked up into his and her pink lips widened into a shy smile.
‘This is weird.’
The words were little more than a breath of air, but her face told him so much more. She was uncertain, vulnerable …
And he wanted to hold her forever.
‘You wanted something?’
She’d shifted slightly and her lost look had been replaced by a mischievous grin.
‘You!’ he muttered gruffly, although he knew he was rushing things.
This woman wasn’t one of the career-focussed businesswomen with whom he usually dallied, and he, for certain, wasn’t, right now, the attentive, caring, casual lover he
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