Surrender in the Arms of the Sheikh. Trish Morey

why he had begun to turn around? And now the breath caught in her throat as she began to issue a silent and heartfelt prayer. She prayed like she hadn’t done for a long, long time, since she had been begging some mysterious presence to take the pain away. If no one had been listening then, then let them be listening now.

      Don’t let it be him. Oh, please don’t let it be him. But her heart plummeted like a stone as he turned to face her.

      Hashim surveyed her with cold and glittering black eyes, acknowledging the heavy stab of desire in his loins with a grim kind of pleasure, remembering the splayed abandon of her legs the last time he had seen her, and the aching only increased.

      He had long denied himself this moment because he had told himself that he could, but in the end desire had proved irresistible. Hashim despised the weakness which made him want her, yet he embraced it, too. And he intended to savour every moment of it. This woman who had deceived him would pay, and she would pay with her body!

      He let the narrowed ebony gleam of his eyes linger on her figure, to see if time had marred its perfection, but it was as firm and as lushly slim as a prized young Saluki—the silky-sleek hunting dogs much favoured by the tribes of his native land.

      It was hard to pin down what made her quite so desirable—for hers was not a fashionable look. She was too petite and curvy for modern tastes, yet her body was to die for. And if you added to that the ingredients of innocence and sensuality…

      Innocence!

      Hashim’s mouth hardened as he thought of what a sham appearances could be.

      He let his gaze drift upwards, to her face. How white her skin was, he observed with impartial interest —and how contrasting the deep rose of her lips. Ah, those lips! One of the very first things he had noticed about her had been her natural pout, which some women spent thousands of dollars at plastic surgeons trying to recreate.

      Now those same lips trembled under his scrutiny, and he longed to crush their petal softness beneath the hard, seeking warmth of his own. But that would have to wait… and the waiting would only increase his eventual pleasure.

      ‘Sienna,’ he murmured as the warm throb of blood beat between his legs.

      The way he said it took her back to somewhere which was out of bounds, and her heart buckled with pain as she stared at the man she had once believed herself to be in love with.

      He was both ugly and beautiful, his face unique— defined by hard contours and the ravages of warfare. An exotic, foreign face. The cruel beak of a nose and harsh slash of his mouth only added to his allure, and those clever black eyes could make a woman feel as if he was slowly stripping her bare…

      Seeing him again was a moment she had lived out in her mind over and over again—though not much lately, it was true. But wasn’t it simply human nature to wonder how she would react if ever she saw him again? As time had passed she had convinced herself that the sobbing wreck of her early days had been replaced by a confident woman who would give him a cool smile and say, Hashim! Well, long time no see!

      How wrong she had been. How very wrong and how very stupid. As if any woman could look at a man like that without wanting to melt into a helpless puddle of longing at his feet. But the longing was eclipsed by another emotion, and that was wariness …or was it fear? What the hell was he doing here?

      ‘Hashim,’ she whispered, like someone waking from a long dream. ‘Is it really you?’

      ‘It really is.’ His hard eyes mocked her, enjoying her discomfiture in a way he had not enjoyed anything for a long time. ‘You seem surprised, Sienna.’

      ‘Surprise implies something pleasant,’ she said shakily.

      He arched heavy black brows in sardonic query. ‘And this is not?’

      ‘Of course it’s not!’ Nervously, she flicked her tongue over her lips to moisten them, and then wished she hadn’t, for his black eyes were drawn to the movement as a snake to the charmer’s pipe. ‘I’m shocked—like anyone would be.’

      ‘I disagree—a lot of women might be delighted to see a man who had once featured in their lives, but I guess it’s different in your case.’

      Her eyes pleaded with him to stop, but he did not, and his hard mouth twisted into a cruel imitation of a smile.

      ‘I expect your past is always coming back to unsettle you in all kinds of ways—but you have only yourself to blame, my dear. If you didn’t keep so many unsavoury secrets, then you might be able to sleep a little easier.’ He allowed his eyes to linger on the exquisite swell of her breasts and the swift shaft of desire became blunted with the memory of betrayal. His mouth hardened. ‘Though I can’t imagine any man letting you sleep easy at night.’ Except maybe him. The mad, duped fool who had protected her and respected her. Who had cherished her as if she had been a delicate and priceless piece of porcelain.

      And then seen her crushed into smithereens before his eyes.

      But he was a fool no more… that day had gone… never to return.

      Sienna wanted to tell him not to stare at her that way, but she knew if she did that then he would do it all the more. He was not a man to be thwarted or dictated to, and in his hard black eyes was the glitter of danger. She swallowed, terrified to ask the question because of what the answer might be. Until she told herself that this was just some horrible, unfortunate coincidence—it had to be…

      Or was it? Suddenly she wasn’t so sure. Did anything ever happen completely by chance?

      ‘What are you doing here, Hashim?’

      He thought how easily his name came to her lips. How little she realised the honour accorded to her by being able to speak it so freely where most women would dip their eyes in deference! Even the sophisticated women in his life—and there had been many—had always been slightly in awe of his power and position. He stared at her, and the anticipation of what he was about to do made his blood sing with pleasure. ‘You know very well why I am here,’ he reprimanded silkily.

      For a second her world was suspended in a moment of disbelief as she was frozen by the stark sensual intent in his eyes. And it was as if just that one sizzling look had begun something which her unresisting body was powerless to stop. She shook her head, trying to stop the stealthy and hated shiver of desire. ‘No, I don’t.’

      ‘Shame on you, Sienna—is this how you always react when you are booked in to have a business meeting? You are being paid to organise a party for me—remember?’

      His soft, mocking words made her throat close over with fear and she swallowed it down. There was no way she could have any kind of meeting with him— business or otherwise. He must know that!

      ‘No!’ she said, as calmly as she could. But as she shook her head the heavy weight of her piled-up hair wobbled, as if itching to cascade down her back. ‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it!’ She looked around her with slight desperation, as if any minute now she would suddenly wake up and discover that the whole incident had been some ghastly nightmare. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting a Mr Altair! Not you.’

      He gave a cold smile. ‘But “Mr Altair” is me, Sienna. Didn’t you realise?’ His smile grew even colder, even though the undulating movement of her hair made him ache to unpin it and set it free. Free to tumble onto the warm nakedness of his chest. And his belly…

      ‘Altair is one of my many aliases,’ he drawled. ‘Surely I used it when I knew you?’

      ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No, you didn’t.’

      ‘Ah. So much changes with the passage of time, does it not, Sienna? What else has changed, I wonder?’

      She felt like a woman who had woken up in an alien place, where all the rules of survival had changed, and she knew that she had to take control— not just of herself but of the situation, too. She was no longer a young girl, besotted and completely fixated by a man who was light-years away from