Modern Romance July 2018 Books 5-8 Collection. Annie West

the hot tap, simply let the needles of stinging cold massage his overheated flesh. He tried to blank his mind, or turn it to that new mining project and the problems of ensuring sustainability and long-term profitability.

      It didn’t work. Images of Lina swam before him. The decorous yet tantalising plunge of her V-necked dress that made him recall the soft press of her breasts when they’d kissed. Those sexy shoes that accentuated her long legs. Her animation. Her smiles as she spoke to Senhora Neves and her dinner companions and, in short, everyone but him.

      With a growl he snapped off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist and using another to wipe the water from his face.

      Sleep was impossible. He might as well work instead. He stalked out of the bathroom and slammed to a halt.

      He wasn’t alone.

      A figure stood poised in the open door from his bedroom into the courtyard.

      A jolt of something like lightning struck, spearing Sayid, sending shockwaves from his scalp to the soles of his feet, scorching every centimetre between. For an instant the world stood absolutely, eerily still, before his heart hammered against his ribs like a runaway train and he swallowed hard, ignoring the razored obstruction in his suddenly dry throat.

      ‘Lina.’ His voice was gravel and hot tar, rumbling half an octave lower than its usual pitch.

      Heat blasted his belly and after that moment’s rampant acceleration his heartbeat slowed to a hard, ponderous, aching beat.

      She stood on the threshold, neither in nor out of the room, hand braced on the window frame. Her face was composed but there was a tiny frown marring her smooth forehead and instinct screamed that she was torn between flight and entering.

      Every cell of his body demanded that he prowl over there, wrap his arm around her and tug her inside. That he devour those delicious lips and then give free rein to the explosive, carnal hunger eating him up.

      But Sayid retained just enough restraint to wait, even as his erection swelled needily. For he’d seen her eyes, bemused like a hunted animal facing a predator. He read doubt in her rigid form.

      He had enough experience of women to know things would go far better if he let her believe it was her choice to stay with him. Never mind the fact that if she dared to try scurrying away now, he’d reach her in a few strides and seduce her into submission.

      Breath tight in his lungs, he turned away and paced to the table where light refreshments were laid out for him. ‘Come in. Please.’

      He only released his breath when he heard the swish of her dress as she stepped inside.

      Sayid took his time pouring a cold drink then turned to find her halfway across the room, her eyes veiled by long lashes as she looked down at the intricately woven tribal rug covering the middle of the floor.

      ‘Here.’ He approached slowly, pleased when she stood her ground. He passed the glass to her and she took it carefully, not letting her fingers touch his. She lifted it to her lips and swallowed as if parched from the desert sun.

      ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was husky but even. Then her eyes lifted to lock on his and another charge of electricity zapped him. That violet stare held wariness and...determination. It tracked down his bare torso then back to his face and Sayid felt it like a flame licking naked skin.

      She held the glass out before her as if she’d forgotten it and Sayid took it from her, lifting it to his lips and downing the liquid in one swallow, easing his own arid throat.

      Lina watched him swallow, her pupils dilating, and he heard the soft intake of her breath.

      The air between them clogged in a haze of awareness, of heat and unmistakable desire. He defied her to deny it when every hitched breath, every tiny shudder in her taut frame proclaimed it.

      ‘You came to give me your answer.’ He turned to put the glass down, ostensibly giving her time to regroup, but actually seeking the strength to wait, not haul her to him and ravish her where they stood. Had he ever been so mightily aroused, just looking at a woman?

      ‘I did. Yes.’

      Sayid dragged air into his lungs, sliding the glass across the inlaid surface. ‘Yes, you came to talk or yes, you agree to my proposal?’

      ‘Yes, I—’

      His eyes snapped to hers and again he heard that tiny catch of breath. The sound skittered over his bare flesh like a caress, drawing it impossibly tight.

      This woman would be the death of him! They hadn’t yet touched and he was bombarded with erotic sensations. He felt his patience shred, like ribbons snatched away in a khamsin, the unstoppable desert wind.

      Her chin tipped higher. ‘If you still want me, I’ll be your lover for a week.’

      Relief hummed through him.

       If he still wanted her!

       Couldn’t she feel the charge between them?

      Yet even as he wondered, he read the staunch pride in the angle of her jaw and the blaze of her stunning eyes.

      Of course she felt it. But this was a bargain—his bargain. Not some spur-of-the-moment impulse.

      He owed her acknowledgement.

      Gravely Sayid inclined his head, gesturing with his hand in the time-honoured way to signal respect and gratitude. For, despite his ravening impatience, he felt more than lust and relief. He...esteemed her.

      None of his other lovers had stirred such respect, he realised. For them a fling with a rich man was easy and uncomplicated. He’d felt attraction and liking but no more.

      Lina was different. Despite her western attitude to marriage and sex, her decision took guts. She wasn’t from some faraway place where a short affair was condoned if not encouraged. The fact she’d taken all day to deliberate, when he knew she felt the same hunger he did, proved her choice wasn’t made lightly.

      ‘Thank you, Lina. I’m honoured by your decision.’

      A shaky sigh escaped her. Instantly he wondered if his acknowledgement reinforced her qualms.

      The idea of her having second thoughts was untenable.

      Sayid crowded close, so close the purple folds of her skirt slid against his legs and his groin tightened needily. He’d kiss her into mindless pleasure—

      Except, he realised as he bent his head, that would leave him mindless too. He stilled, recalling how last night’s kiss had driven him to the edge.

      He ached to taste her mouth again, lose himself in her welcoming sensuality. But if he kissed her on the lips the sex would be over in seconds and he wanted to savour their first time.

      Abruptly Sayid straightened, noting with satisfaction her pouting lips and dazed, disappointed expression.

      ‘Come.’ Smiling, he took her small hand in his and led her towards the bed.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      STRANGE HOW LINA’S quivers of nerves settled when Sayid took her hand and smiled, despite the hungry edge to his expression.

      She wanted to be with him, wanted to learn with him the intimacies men and women shared, yet anxiety had undercut her decision. Anxiety that a week as his lover might cement rather than erode her feelings for him. Anxiety that he’d find her gauche or lacking with her total absence of sexual experience.

      Even the heady moment when he’d acknowledged his respect for her had underscored the enormity of what she was doing.

      But his smile, his touch, bathed her in a glow of delight and anticipation that obliterated all else.

      This is right, her soul sang as they stopped by the