The Sheikh's Collection. Оливия Гейтс

spotted you at the bar, I was sure you’re Italian. Am I right?”

      Luckily his pleasant demeanor returned. “No, but I am quite fond of Italy, and I do know Italian, courtesy of a former teacher.”

      “My second guess would be you’re of French descent.”

      “Je ne suis pas français, mais je peux bien embrasser à la francaise.”

      A sexy devil with devastating dimples and a wry sense of humor—a deadly combination. “I’m sure the parochial girls appreciated your French-kissing expertise. But you didn’t exactly answer my question about your heritage.”

      “I am not of French, but I am impressed you speak the language.”

      She laid a dramatic palm over her breast and pulled out her best Southern speak. “Why, sugar, we’re not all dumb belles. I know French and German and even a little Japanese.”

      “Should you find yourself in need of an Italian translator, I would be happy to accommodate you.”

      She would be thrilled if he did more than that. “I’ve never been to Italy but I’ve always wanted to see Rome.”

      “You should make that a priority. I personally prefer Naples and the coast....”

      As he continued, Piper became completely mesmerized by his mouth, and began to ridiculously fantasize about kissing him. Then her fantasies took major flight as she entertained thoughts of his mouth moving down her body. Slow and warm and, oh, so...

      “...large pink salmon walk down the streets texting on their smartphones.”

      She rejoined reality following the odd declaration. “I beg your pardon?”

      “Clearly I bored you into a near coma while playing the travel guide.”

      He’d inadvertently drawn her into a waking sex dream. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “It must be the booze.”

      He reached over and without an invitation took a drink from her glass, then set it down with a thud. “That is bloody awful,” he said. “What is in this unpalatable concoction?”

      Piper turned her attention to the drink and momentarily became preoccupied with the fact his lips had caressed the glass. And that was probably as close to his lips she would get...unless she took the plunge and turned the good girl to bad. “Basically vodka and cranberry juice, but the bartender made it fairly strong. It’s gone straight to my head.” And so had he.

      He pushed his half-full glass toward her. “Try this.”

      She picked up the tumbler and studied the amber liquid. “What is it?”

      “Twenty-year-old Scotch. Once you’ve sampled it, no other drink will do.”

      She would really like to sample him, and if she didn’t stop those thoughts in their tracks, she might derail her common sense. “I’m not sure I should. I don’t want to have to crawl to the hotel room.”

      “If you need assistance, I’ll make certain you arrive safely.”

      Piper returned his wily smile. “Well, in that case, I suppose I could have a small sip.”

      The minute the straight liquor hit her throat, she truly wanted to spit it out. Instead, she swallowed hard and handed the tumbler back to him.

      “You don’t like it?” he asked, sounding somewhat insulted.

      “Sorry, but it’s just not my cup of tea. Or cup of alcohol, I should say. But then, I can’t claim to have good drinking skills.”

      “How are your kissing skills?” Right when she was about to suggest they find out, he straightened, looked away and cleared his throat again. “My apologies. You are too nice a woman to endure my habit of spewing innuendo.”

      “Why do you believe I wouldn’t appreciate a little harmless innuendo?”

      He streaked a hand over his jaw. “You have a certain innocence about you. Perhaps even purity.”

      Here we go again.... “Looks can be deceiving.”

      “True, but eyes do not deceive. I’ve noticed your growing discomfort during the course of our conversation.”

      “Have you considered my discomfort stems from my attraction to you?” Heavens, she hadn’t really just admitted that, had she? Yes, she had. Her gal pals would be so proud. Her grandfather would lock her up and toss away the key.

      “I’m flattered,” he said without taking his gaze from hers. “I must admit I find you very attractive as well, and I would like to know you better. Because of that, I have a request. You are under no obligation to agree, but I hope you will.”

      The moment of truth had arrived. Would she be willing to hurl caution to the wind and sleep with him? Would she really take that risk when she knew so little about him, including his last name? Oh, heck yeah. “Ask away.”

      When A.J. stood and offered his hand, her heart vaulted into her throat. She held her breath and waited for the ultimate proposition, the word yes lingering on her lips.

      “Piper McAdams, would you do me the honor of taking a walk with me?”

      * * *

      Sheikh Adan Jamal Mehdi did not take women on long walks. He took them to bed. Or he had before he’d taken that bloody vow of celibacy eight months before in order to be taken more seriously by his brothers. A vow that had suddenly lost its appeal.

      Yet Piper McAdams wasn’t his usual conquest. She was witty and outgoing, while he normally attracted sophisticated and somewhat cynical women. She was only slightly over five feet tall, he would estimate, were it not for the four-inch heels, when he usually preferred someone closer in height to his six feet two inches. She also had surprisingly long legs and extremely full breasts for someone so small in stature, and he’d had trouble keeping his eyes off those assets for any length of time. The oath of restraint had not silenced his libido in any sense, especially now.

      They strolled along the walkway bordering the lake for a good twenty minutes, speaking mostly in generalities, until Adan felt strangely at a loss for words. Conversation had always been his forte, and so had kissing. He thought it best to concentrate on the first. “Do you have any siblings?”

      When a gust of wind swirled around them, she pulled her hem-length black cashmere sweater closer to her body. “One. A twin sister whose official name is Sunshine, but she goes by Sunny, for obvious reasons.”

      He was immediately struck by the familiar name. “Sunny McAdams, the renowned journalist?”

      Her smile showed a certain pride. “That would be her. We’re actually fraternal twins, as if you couldn’t figure that out from our obvious physical differences.”

      Yet neither woman lacked in beauty despite the fact one was blond and the other brunette. “Piper and Sunshine are both rather unusual names. Did they hold some significance for your parents?”

      Her expression turned somber. “It’s my understanding my mother named Sunny. Unfortunately, we don’t know our father. Actually, we don’t even know who he is, and I’m not sure my mother does, either. You could say we were a thorn in her socialite side. Our grandparents basically raised us for that reason.”

      That explained her sudden change in demeanor. But due to his own questions about his heritage, he believed discussing family dynamics in-depth should be avoided at all costs. “You said your mother named your sister. Who named you?”

      “My grandfather did,” she said with a smile. “He adores bagpipes.”

      Her elevated mood pleased him greatly. “I learned to play the bagpipes at school, but I quickly determined the kilts weren’t at all my style.”

      She paused to lean back against the railing. “Tell me something. Is it true that men wear nothing under those kilts?”

      “A