Sleeping with the Sheikh. Brenda Jackson
kind of woman go.”
Yet that’s exactly what Sam had to do—let her go. He’d known that all along. He had known getting involved with her again would be a grave mistake. But he had become involved, and now he would have to deal with severing their emotional ties when the time came.
“I promise that whatever I decide to do about my son, it will be best for all concerned.”
“I’m counting on that, Sam.” Riley set the shovel aside and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I’ve got to go do a few things back at the Hammonds’ place, but I’ll be back at sundown.”
“I will try to finish this stall before you return.”
“You do that.”
Sam stepped aside and allowed him to exit, but before he reached the open door, Riley turned once again. “And one more thing, Sam. Since I was Andi’s dad’s best friend, I want you to know that I’m standing in for him.” He pointed a crooked finger. “And if you hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me.”
With that he was gone, leaving Sam to ponder his words. He had no intention of hurting Andrea, if he could avoid it. But the closer they became, the more the risk increased that he again would shatter her heart. And most likely do a great deal of damage to his own.
Chapter Seven
After lunch Sam headed to the stable to resume the repairs. Andrea had only made a brief appearance in the house, grabbed a sandwich then returned to work the horses in the round pen, barely acknowledging him or her aunt.
As Sam neared the barn, he noted the red truck belonging to the man named Caleb parked in the drive. He approached the entrance slowly as he heard the sound of Andrea’s laughter, pausing outside to listen. He acknowledged that he had no right to intrude, yet he couldn’t stop his eavesdropping.
“Dinner would be great,” Andrea said. “But it will have to be in a couple of weeks. Chance will be home and my guest should be leaving.”
Her guest? Sam experienced a pang of anger that she considered him only a guest, then admonished himself for such foolishness. He was a guest, not a member of the family. Only a friend, a stranger to his son. Her lover for the time they had remaining, if he had any say in the matter.
That thought sent him forward, but he hesitated once more when the man began to speak. “I’ll give you a call next week, unless you decide you want to get together sooner.”
Sam could only imagine what this Caleb had in mind for Andrea, and he couldn’t contain the spear of jealousy hurling through him. That jealousy thrust him into the barn to find Andrea and Caleb facing each other at the stall containing the filly.
Andrea turned and met Sam’s gaze, then smiled. “Speak of the devil, here he is now.” She gestured toward him. “Caleb, this is Sam, a family friend.”
Sam reluctantly accepted the handshake offered by the cowboy but did not return his smile.
“Nice to meet you, Sam,” Caleb said. “Andi tells me you’re some kind of a prince.”
“A sheikh,” he said as politely as his current mood allowed.
“That’s great.” He gave his grin to Andrea. “Keep up the good work, Andi. I’m pretty pleased with you so far.”
Sam wondered what other pleasure he had in mind for Andrea. Forcing the thoughts away, he moved aside and gladly let the man take his leave.
When they were alone once again, Sam lost the tenuous grasp he’d placed on his control. “You will be dining with him after I leave?”
Andrea picked up a plastic box containing supplies and walked into the tack room. “Looks that way.”
Propelled by his insane envy, Sam followed her inside. “Will Chance be in attendance?”
“Yes,” she answered curtly.
“Does our son like this man?”
“He’s not been around him all that much.”
“Then you have no way of knowing if this Caleb will be an acceptable suitor.”
Andi dropped the box at her feet and turned, leaning against the saddle set atop the stand. “I personally don’t think Caleb is an appropriate suitor, because he’s married and has two kids.”
“He has a wife?”
“Yes, he has a wife, and she’ll be coming with us. Are you satisfied now?”
Sam was still reluctant to trust the man. “I’m admittedly concerned about his motives regardless of his marital status.”
Andrea rolled her eyes to the ceiling, then turned her back and began oiling the saddle. “Look, Sam, Caleb is a nice guy. He’s really done me a favor by letting me train his horse, and that’s the only thing he’s asked of me.”
“To this point.”
She faced him, twisting the rag in her fist. “I don’t know why you keep thinking he has other things in mind. You don’t even know him.”
He knew his type, and he knew how tempting Andrea could be. She was tempting him greatly now with the fire in her eyes and the clothes she wore, a sleeveless rag of a shirt cut short at her midriff, giving him a glimpse of her navel, where her jeans rode low at her shapely hips. The cowboy might be wed but he was still a man. And Sam had no right to judge anyone, considering what he had done with Andrea last night, knowing he was bound to another. Considering that he had not yet had his fill of her, as if he ever would.
“I will not mention it again,” he conceded, though he knew he would think about it often in the days to come, as well as when he returned to Barak. He would think about her often, wondering if she would find her way to another man’s arms, another man’s bed.
But until that time she was his, and although it would be inadvisable to pursue a physical relationship with her, he was not strong enough to resist. He had no intention of resisting. If all he could have was a few stolen moments, then so be it.
Sam could only stare at Andrea as she cleaned the saddle, bending down now and then to retrieve supplies for the task. His body raged with need when the denim pulled tight over her hips, revealing the shape of her buttocks. Her hair was secured and bound high on her head in a band, leaving the back of her slender neck fair game. Sam imagined kissing her there. Kissing her everywhere.
“Do you need my assistance?” he asked.
She sent him a coy look over her shoulder. “I’ve cleaned so many saddles I could probably do it blindfolded.”
“I assume you could do many things blindfolded.”
Andi froze with her hand midswipe when she felt the heat of Sam’s body at her back. A pleasant tremor crept up her spine as he tugged the bandanna from her back pocket then snaked it across her shoulder and over one breast before drawing it up slowly.
“Should we see if it is true that you are skilled without the benefit of sight?” His voice was a warm, midnight breeze at her ear.
Before she could respond, he placed the cloth over her eyes and tied it, throwing her into darkness, throwing her body into a carnal tailspin.
“You’re really going to make me clean the saddle blindfolded?” she asked, her voice little more than a croak, knowing that’s not what he’d meant at all.
Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her around and nudged her back against the saddle. “I propose that we ignore the saddle for more pleasant endeavors.” He softly kissed her with an added sweep of his tongue across her lower lip. “I want you to concentrate on what I am doing to you.”
A wave of heat ignited low in her belly then alighted between her thighs. “I’ve been working, Sam. I’m hot and sweaty.” A feeble protest that she hoped he would ignore.
“So