Sleeping with the Sheikh. Brenda Jackson
as did the sight of her dressed in feminine attire. Yet he refused to let her distract him. Now that he’d learned he would have to leave sooner, he had much to discuss with her.
“I’m afraid I must cut my visit short. I have been summoned home.”
Her blue eyes widened. “Tonight?”
“No, but I will not be able to stay as long as I’d intended. I must return in two weeks.”
Seeming to relax somewhat, she tucked her legs beneath her and sipped a glass of iced tea. “Was that Rashid on the phone calling to deliver the good news?”
“I spoke with my father. It is his wish that I return.”
She frowned. “Do you always do what he tells you to do?”
Sam had expected her disapproval, but he hadn’t expected her forthright query. “I have obligations, Andrea. Surely you understand, now that you have a child.”
“I don’t see Chance as an obligation,” she said, ire in her tone. “I see him as a joy, not as a chore or a servant.”
Sam lowered his eyes to his hands, clasped tightly in his lap, biting back the sudden surge of anger. “Would you expect me to ignore my responsibilities?”
“I’d expect that being a prince might make you a little happier.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “On what do you base this assumption, that I’m not happy with what I am?”
She shrugged. “You don’t look happy, not like before. I’ve rarely seen you smile, much less laugh. In fact, most of the time you look way too serious. That’s not the Sam I remember.”
Sheikh Samir Yaman had replaced the Sam she remembered. The Sam she had known had yet to be tainted by the responsibility placed on his shoulders as the eldest son of a king. “That carefree college student you knew no longer exists.”
“Oh, I think he’s still in there just dying to get out.”
“Unfortunately, that is not the case.”
She set her glass on the coffee table before them and hugged her knees to her chest. “I’d hate to think that’s true, Sam. I’d also hate to think that Chance would ever be subjected to the kind of pressure that would make him lose his spirit and his love of life.”
If the truth were known, so would Sam. “I doubt that he will ever lose those attributes considering his mother.”
Andrea’s smile curled the corners of her beautiful mouth. “I suppose that’s a compliment.”
“Yes, very much so. I greatly appreciated your free spirit, your passion for living.”
“And I appreciated your passion, too.”
Sam was inclined to believe that she meant the passion they had experienced in each other’s arms. He refused to travel that road of regret tonight, not with her so near, looking like temptation incarnate. He wasn’t that strong.
He cleared his throat and leaned back against the sofa, hoping to seem relaxed when in fact he was anything but. “I have learned to deal with the demands of my station. It is who I am.”
“It’s a title, Sam, not who you are. My father never tried to make me something I’m not. Neither did Paul. They just let me be myself.”
“If my memory serves me, Paul once said that it would take a front-end hauler, a steel cable and an ancient oak to tie you down.”
Andrea tossed back her head and laughed, filling Sam with joy over the sound. “That’s a front-end loader, and yes, he did say that, and I’ve heard you say worse. You guys were always teasing me. You lived to drive me nuts.”
“You were an easy target.”
She smiled. “A moving target most of the time, you mean. Especially when you both came at me and threatened to tickle me senseless.”
Sam grinned at the memories. “I believe you have very sensitive knees.”
Andrea hugged her legs tighter against her chest. “Don’t you even think about it, mister.”
He inched a little closer despite the voice that told him to keep his distance. “It might be amusing to see if that continues to hold true.”
“Still the bully, just like before.”
“Before it was the only way to make you do my bidding.”
Her smile faded and her expression softened, taking on the appearance of a woman more than willing to submit to his demands. “That wasn’t the only way.”
Sam was suddenly catapulted back to that night at the pond. Never had any woman given him as much with such sweet abandon. And considering she’d been barely more than a child all those years ago, he could only wonder what she would be like now as a woman.
Inching closer until she was flush against his side, she brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Do you ever think about that night, Sam? Not about Paul, but about what happened between us?”
Even after seven years, those memories still haunted his dreams in sleep and his thoughts upon waking. “I remember.”
“Do you ever wish that it hadn’t happened?”
How could he explain so she would understand? He caught her hand and brushed a kiss across her palm. “I suppose that if I could change anything about that time, it would only be two things.”
With fine fingertips she traced a path along his jaw. “What would they be?”
“That I could have saved Paul from his fate. And that I could have stayed.”
Her face lit up as if he had offered her the stars that held her dreams. Leaning forward, she whisked a kiss across his cheek. “Thank you.”
He did not deserve her gratitude, then or now. “Nothing has changed, Andrea. We cannot go back. I will still leave you again.”
She framed his jaw in her slender fingers. “We could make up for lost time. There are a lot of hours in fourteen days.”
Not nearly enough, Sam decided. Not nearly enough distance between them, either. Normally he was a man with a firm resolve, but Andrea unearthed his weakness, could mold him as easily as if he were made of clay. As he stared at her lips, he became caught in the grip of longing.
Sam claimed her mouth for a kiss fueled by a power he didn’t know he possessed. In the far reaches of his mind, he realized he should be experiencing some guilt, since he was promised to another. But that woman was as unfamiliar to him as the concept of turning his back on his country and his legacy. He could only consider the sweet heat of Andrea’s mouth, the gentle foray of her tongue against his, the feel of her lithe body curled against him as he deepened the kiss and tightened his hold on her.
The passion that was so much a part of Andrea came out in the kiss. Her hands roved over his back in steady strokes as if she were memorizing this moment. He caught a handful of her hair as if to moor himself against the onslaught of heat, of desperate desire. When she draped one leg over his thigh, he curved his palm over her waist. They parted for a moment, but only a moment, to draw air before their mouths united again. How easy it would be to touch her, Sam thought. How easy to show her pleasure. He slipped his hand between her thighs and Andrea wriggled her encouragement.
Reality soon caught hold and Sam became aware that if he continued, he would not be able to stop. He would toss away all his reasons for avoiding this very thing and carry her to bed, make love to her all through the night, destroying his determination not to hurt her more than he already had.
Breaking the kiss, he tipped his forehead against hers as he tried to regain his respiration. “You are still too hard to resist.”
“Then why even bother?”
He pulled back and searched her blue eyes. “You know the reasons