Under the Sheik's Protection. C.J. Miller
man at the far end of the bar invited us to eat with him. His name is Barr and he has an accent.” She half expected he would disappear in the time she’d taken to return to her friends.
Molly looked over at him and smiled. “Nice. You need us to be wingwomen to the friends?”
Sarah hadn’t thought about that. “The friends are strangely silent.”
“They’re probably trying to stay out of the way if you two are making nice,” Krista said.
Perhaps. Sarah still felt she was missing something about the three men. “Does he look familiar?”
Both Molly and Krista craned their necks to look at Barr at the same time.
Sarah blushed. “Not so obvious, please.”
“He knows we’re talking about him,” Molly said and rolled her eyes. “The one right next to him is cute. Did you get a name?”
“Nope. I forgot to ask,” Sarah said. It wasn’t like her to forget basic social graces, but once she had started talking to Barr, she had fixated on him and the rest of the world had seemed to disappear. Was that what having a crush was like? It had been so long, she couldn’t recall.
“We’ll join you, enjoy and provide backup if anything gets weird. We’re your excuse if you need to leave,” Krista said.
Even if Barr was perfectly charming, Sarah didn’t know how ready she was to spend the evening with a man she found attractive in a situation that had the potential of leading somewhere, like a bedroom. Putting on an air of confidence at work was easy. Talking to him had been more pleasurable that she’d imagined. Was she ready to take it to another level?
Sarah drummed up some extra courage. Sharing a drink and a meal with a man was a good first step. A simple step. But if it was so simple, why did she feel light-headed?
* * *
Sarah felt daring as she and Barr walked across the street and entered the golden doors of the most expensive hotel in D.C. She hadn’t wanted to return home when the restaurant closed. She’d accepted Barr’s invitation to his hotel because she’d wanted the night to last as long as it could.
His gaze lingered on her like a promise of more to come. More that she wanted and more that she craved.
His friends followed behind them and Sarah knew Molly would be disappointed. She and Adham had seemed to have some chemistry, but he’d cut the evening short when Barr had mentioned they were leaving.
Excitement shot down Sarah’s spine as the elevator doors closed. Her knees went weak when Barr hit the button for the penthouse suite. Barr was traveling in style. He didn’t just have a hotel room. He had the top-level hotel floor complete with a view of the White House. Everything about the night since she’d met him felt surreal and magical. Even if it was only a fleeting fantasy, she would enjoy it.
One night with Barr wouldn’t turn into a lifelong romance and she didn’t expect it to. He’d mentioned he was from the Middle East traveling on business with his associates, and while he didn’t elaborate, Sarah figured the specifics didn’t matter. She was entering into a brief fling with no future, but she needed to lose herself in a man’s arms. Tonight, she needed to feel wanted and cherished and decided to play along with the fantasy.
Tomorrow, she returned to her life as it was and to the responsibilities and problems and loneliness that awaited her.
Barr ushered her inside and closed the door behind him. His associates didn’t follow him inside and she was grateful for the privacy.
“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked.
No small talk. She might lose her nerve if this didn’t happen quickly. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, long and hot and hard.
It took him a millisecond to respond. Barr was masterful with his mouth. His lips were firm and soft and hot. Very hot. His hands slid from her shoulders, down her back and to her hips. He held her tight enough for her to feel desired and loose enough to move and sway.
The sense of rightness and the depth of the connection shook her. Her heart tripped and her pulse sped up to keep pace. She found herself confronting a fantasy. Mysterious foreigner, luxury hotel suite and one romantic evening she would dream about for years.
She tugged at his tie, struggling to remove it and tossed it to the floor. Then his jacket. With his arms more free, he banded them around her. Clutching his biceps, she felt the muscles flex and she held back a giggle of delight.
This was what she needed. Two strangers, no complicated history and no judgment.
She unfastened the buttons of his shirts, shoving the satiny white fabric off his shoulders. He flicked the shirt away.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he said.
Barr spun her, lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck. She let her head fall to the side, giving him complete access to the sensitive skin at her nape. Everything he was doing ignited her senses and made her hotter. He smelled of soap and spice and the caress of his hands was hungry for more. She wanted to be the woman to satisfy that hunger. He slid her zipper down her back, brushed the sleeves across her shoulders and the blue dress fell to the floor. The sharp intake of his breath let her know he liked what he saw.
Sarah didn’t have Krista’s model good looks or Molly’s boundless confidence, but her confidence shot higher knowing this man—this sexy, handsome man—wanted what she had to offer.
He muttered something in a language she didn’t understand. She whirled to face him and for the first time in years, she felt powerful. Her femininity had been buried under work and problems and stress. In the hands of this amazing man, it came roaring to life.
“You must hear this from men all the time, but I must tell you that you are beautiful.” He said another word in his native tongue.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Goddess. You have the body and face of a goddess.”
That was a word she had never heard spoken about her. She reveled in it and swallowed every iota of flattery he was feeding her. If she was having a fantasy night with this man, she would enjoy every over-the-top moment of it. Sarah didn’t want to be the doubting, questioning person she had become during her marriage and worry about the future.
She unbuckled his pants and in a flurry of motions, his trousers fell to the ground. He lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the bedroom.
The sleigh bed was covered in a maroon-and-gold comforter. Holding her with one hand, he flicked it away to reveal crisp beige sheets. He set her down gently and slid over her on the bed. One fluid motion. The man had practiced moves. He knew what he was doing in the bedroom.
The lean strength of his body indicated he must work out. Probably had a personal trainer or a gym in his house. She was no fan of exercise, but to keep up with him, she could be talked into it. She ran her hand down his chest where a long scar reached from his shoulder to his abdomen. A tight, muscled abdomen.
“What happened here?” she asked, tracing the line with her finger.
“Military training injury from my youth,” he said.
A military man? He had the body for it. Her curiosity about him heightened. He had a tattoo on his biceps.
“What is this?” she asked, tracing the small dragon.
“Another remnant of my time in the military,” he said. Sarah wondered about it and sensed it had deep, personal meaning to him.
He set his hands on her sides and inhaled, letting out his breath slowly. “Is this moving too fast?”
She shook her head. Fast was good. She was afraid reality would catch up to her and she would realize some great flaw in her plan to sleep with this man. They would be safe about it and she would preserve her