Iris Johansen - A Summer Smile

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From #1 New York Times bestselling author Iris Johansen comes a classic tale of thrilling adventure and unbound passion, as two people embark on a journey through terror and desire…
At twenty-one, Zilah Dabala has already survived a harrowing past. Now she's convinced she can handle anything on her own-even being held hostage by a terrorist group. But Daniel is determined to rescue her. And soon their escape ignites an intimacy neither has ever known. Once Daniel learns Zilah's tragic secret, however, he fears she may be lost to him forever. He's defied death many times over-but can he teach a young woman the healing power of love?
Daniel Seifert has spent his life on the edge of danger, carrying out high-risk security missions across the globe. But it's more than adventure that compels him to tempt fate yet again-it's a young woman in a photograph, a woman whose warm, wise-beyond-her-years smile gives Daniel the inexplicable feeling that he's found something he's been searching for all along.

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Daniel muttered a curse beneath his breath and got to his feet. “Dammit, I told you I was a roughneck. Things just come out.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll try to watch it.”

Why was Daniel upset? The remark hadn’t been obscene, merely suggestive. Yet Daniel was acting as if he’d just propositioned a nun. “It didn’t offend me,” she said, bewildered.

“Good,” he said briskly. He bent over the bed and opened the lid of a large box he’d brought into the room just before he’d gotten her breakfast tray. “These are for you. There are more boxes in the helicopter. The servants will bring them in later. I went through this one and it seems to contain all you’ll need for right now.” He pulled out wisps of lacy underthings and a chocolate-colored robe that was only a sheer float of accordion pleats. “I suppose I should have expected something like this. Philip ordered the wardrobe from the same store his khadims usually use.”

“Considering his attitude toward women, it doesn’t really surprise me,” Zilah said dryly. “He probably thinks that’s our sole role in life and we should dress for it. I can’t say I’m overly fond of your friend.”

“That bad, was he?” Daniel asked gloomily. “I was afraid he might be. Well, you may not be crazy about his manners, but he has one attribute that will win your approval.”

“And what is that?”

“He’s a damn fine rider and has one of the most famous stables in the Middle East. I’ll take you to see it tomorrow if you’re well enough.”

Zilah’s face lit up. “Horses? I’d love to see them. Couldn’t we go today? I feel fine.”

Daniel was shaking his head. “Not today. You may feel fit, but you’re bound to have a reaction from the fever you had yesterday. The doctor said you were to take it easy for the next few days. That means today you stay in bed.”

Zilah’s expression clouded mutinously. “But I feel fine. I’m very tough usually. I don’t know why that scorpion sting affected me so violently.”

“You may think you’re Annie Oakley and Calamity Jane rolled into one, but today you’re definitely playing Camille.” He turned to the door. “Finish your breakfast. I’ll go to the study and see if I can find a few games to keep you occupied. Any preferences?”

“I want to see the horses,” she said stubbornly. “I wouldn’t try to ride them without the sheikh’s permission, of course. I just want to see them.”

“Games,” Daniel repeated firmly as he strode through the doorway. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to pick up the tray. Eat.”

He was doing it again. Just because she’d been so helpless after she’d been stung by the scorpion, he was taking charge and giving orders as if she had no will or mind of her own. She lifted the tray off her lap and set it on the bed beside her. She’d had enough to eat, blast it. She’d also had enough orders for one day. First, El Kabbar with his autocratic instructions, and now Daniel. She wasn’t about to lie in bed and be waited on by Daniel. He had already done too much for her. When he came back she would tell him that, but she had better look less like the Camille of Daniel’s metaphor when she did it. The first thing she needed was a shower and then to brush her teeth and wash her hair…

She was already tossing the sheet aside and swinging her legs to the floor as she reached for the dark brown negligee. It was just as transparent as she had feared, and she made a face as she slipped into its sheer folds and buttoned the top button. She gathered up the bra and panties, her eyes on the intricately carved door across the room that must lead to the bathroom. Her legs were shaky and her right ankle throbbed in protest as she got slowly to her feet. She would be all right in a moment, she assured herself staunchly. Her head was swimming, but that was probably perfectly natural after being in bed almost twenty-four hours. She took a deep breath and some of the dizziness subsided.

All she had to do was to take it slowly and she’d be fine. She took another step forward and then another. Unfortunately, the philosophy of mind over matter seemed not to be working in this case. Her knees were now shaking so badly that by the time she got halfway across the room she could scarcely control them. It took only a slight stumble on the edge of the Persian carpet to send her tumbling in a heap on the floor.

“Damn!” She could feel the helpless tears mist her eyes and she blinked them back determinedly. So stupid to be upset over a little tumble. It must be because she was so wretchedly weak. She had struggled to her knees and was about to try to get to her feet again when the door swung open.

“Good Lord in heaven!” Daniel exploded. He slammed the door behind him, strode across the room, and tossed the three boxes he was carrying on the bed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I leave you alone for a few minutes and you’re up running around.” He was standing before her now and his dark blue eyes were blazing. He grasped her shoulders and hauled her unceremoniously to her feet.

“I just wanted to take a shower,” she said defensively. “And brush my teeth.”

“And then see the horses,” he added grimly. “I wish I had never mentioned them to you.”

“I planned that for later,” she said with dignity. “I just wanted to be really clean again. I’m a total mess. Just look at me.”

“I am,” he said huskily. He had been trying to keep from doing just that since the moment he’d walked into the room. She was beautifully, lushly naked beneath the sheer dark brown of the negligee. He could see the dark pink thrust of the nipples that crowned her full breasts, the slim silkiness of her waist and abdomen beneath the material that veiled instead of covered. His gaze was drawn irresistibly to the shadowy triangle at the apex of her thighs, and he felt an aching thrust of desire in his loins. Her sun-burnished hair was falling in shining clouds around her shoulders, and he wanted to reach out and tangle his hand in her locks. To press her close to him so that he could feel that dark, shadowy softness against his hardness.

God, he could almost feel her rubbing against him, her nipples tautening for him as they had in the cave that night. They were peaking now as he looked at her, and he felt a jolt of need so intense it was painful. The bed was so damned close and she would want it. She might be frightened at first, but she had been responsive before. Hell, she was responsive now. He could see the pulse pounding wildly in the hollow of her throat and he reached out a hand to half encircle it, pressing his thumb gently to that revealing pulsing. He bent forward, his lips only a breath from hers. He could see the faint cut where Hassan had struck her and he felt a surge of primitive rage rush through him that somehow only intensified the desire he was experiencing. “Is your lip still sore?”

“What?” She had forgotten about it. It was a moment before she could pull her attention from the spell Daniel was weaving about her with only the light touch of his hand and the smoky hotness of his eyes. “Oh, no.” She nervously moistened her lips with her tongue. She felt his hand on her throat tighten compulsively. “It doesn’t hurt at all anymore.”

“That’s good,” he said hoarsely. He could feel her warmth reaching out to him through the film of material separating them. It would take only a motion of his hand to brush aside the robe and close his fingers on her breast. To lift that rosy nipple to his lips and nibble and suck until she gave that little breathless moan that excited him so. She would dig her fingers into his shoulders as she had in the darkness of the cave. He had noticed in the shower this morning that he still had the marks of her nails on his body. Such a little thing, but it had caused an instant arousal that had forced him to change the flow of water in the shower from warm to ice cold. Then he would run his hands slowly down her smooth warm back. He would cup her buttocks in his palms and lift her, press her against his aching arousal, make her take him into-

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