Olivia Gates - Claimed by the Desert Sheikh

Everything he’d been taught told him to retreat, to give her the privacy she expected and deserved. The blood of the desert that still pounded through his veins demanded that he take this beautiful, alluring woman.

He couldn’t seem to look away from her long legs, the curve of her hip, the way she moved as she bent down to pick up the coveralls. She turned slightly, saw him and jumped.

Maggie was pretty sure she didn’t scream, which was good because she hardly needed one more embarrassing moment where Qadir was concerned. Then she remembered she was kind of undressed and felt herself flush anyway.

“I … forgot to tell you what time we would meet for our dinner,” he said.

“Isn’t it seven? That’s what my schedule says.”

“Ah, yes. Seven.”

She stood awkwardly, sort of holding the coveralls in front of her body, even as she tried to convince herself that panties and a T-shirt were more clothing than she wore to the beach. Only they weren’t at the beach and she’d been undressing.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said. “My apologies.”

She appreciated the words, even as she noticed he wasn’t leaving. That should have annoyed her. But there was something in the way Qadir looked at her that made her feel all shaky inside.

“Maggie.” He crossed to her in three long strides. “Send me away and I will go.”

His gaze was intense, as was his touch when he held her by her upper arms.

Sparks arced between them. She could practically see them as they singed her skin. Need grew until it devoured every part of her.

She didn’t understand what it was about this man that made her react the way she did. Cosmic humor? Chemistry? Hormones? She didn’t know and she wasn’t sure she cared. She only knew that when she was close to Qadir, touching him, being touched, she felt more alive than she ever had in her life.

She dropped the coveralls. “That won’t be necessary,” she whispered.

He pulled her toward him with a force that caused her to lose her balance. Not that it mattered. She knew if she fell, he would catch her, just as he caught her now, pulling her against him, claiming her with a hot, wild kiss that threatened to steal her soul.

She leaned against him, her curves flattening against his hard chest, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to the kiss. She met him stroke for stroke. As he explored, she tightened her lips around his tongue and sucked. He stiffened.

Pleasure filled her, along with the confidence of knowing she wasn’t the only one in danger of getting lost in the moment.

He dropped his hands to her hips then around to her rear, squeezing the curves, causing her to surge against him.

Her belly nestled against his arousal, hard, thick proof of what she did to him. Feeling it made her insides melt. She felt herself swelling in anticipation.

He ran his hands up and down her back before slipping one around her rib cage then up her T-shirt to her breast. Even through the layers of fabric, he found her nipple, tight and hard. He teased the sensitive point, rubbing it, circling, then brushing it with the palm of his hand.

At the same time he broke the kiss, only to nibble his way along her jaw.

He moved his free hand to her other breast. His touch was exquisite. Powerful need made her tremble. She wanted everything right that second. She wanted him.

He stepped back far enough to pull off her T-shirt. She quickly undid her bra and tossed it aside. Then his hands were on her bare skin.

He stroked her with his fingers before bending down and taking her nipple in his mouth. When he sucked, deep ribbons of desire wove their way down to that place between her thighs. She cupped his head with her hand, as much to be touching him as to make sure he never stopped.

His tongue danced with her, flicked against her, made her gasp and moan. Then he slipped one hand between her legs.

She braced herself for the magic of his touch and the intensity of her response. But even as he eased into place, she heard someone in the garage. A voice, then a burst of male laughter. She stiffened.

Qadir straightened. He immediately pulled off his suit jacket and covered her, then moved to the door, closed and locked it.

All that only took a second, but it was enough for her rational mind to wake up and be horrified by what had almost happened.

Qadir was her boss. They had a deal and that didn’t include sex. Just as confusing was the fact that she’d never been the kind of woman who threw herself into bed with any guy who came along. There’d only ever been Jon and it had taken them three years of dating to finally go all the way.

Of course they’d been young and both virgins. Qadir was a man of the world. Which explained his actions, but what about hers? It was one thing to enjoy a man’s kiss—it was another to get so swept away that she’d nearly done it in her office in the garage, in the middle of the day.

“Maggie?”

She looked at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I won’t apologize.”

He hadn’t done anything wrong except take what was offered. “I don’t expect you to.”

“Would it help if you threw something?”

That made her smile. “I’m not sure. I don’t feel angry. Just confused. I don’t usually do this sort of thing.”

“There is a powerful attraction between us.”

“I got that.”

He picked up her bra and T-shirt. After handing them to her, he turned his back. She set his jacket over a chair and quickly dressed. When she’d pulled on the coveralls, she said, “Doing anything … you know, intimate, would mess things up.”

He faced her again. “I agree.”

“I work for you.”

He nodded. “Better to keep things business only.”

“Yeah.”

They were both saying the right words, so why did she have the feeling that neither of them believed them?

“You are all right?” he asked.

“Fine. Weirded out, but fine.” She gave him a little push. “Go back to your office and do princely things. I’ll be ready at seven.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he told her and left.

Maggie watched him go. When she was alone, she sank into the chair and tried to figure out how much trouble she’d just gotten herself into.

Could she and Qadir put this behind them and pretend it had never happened?

Without meaning to, she closed her eyes and remembered how it felt to have his mouth on her breasts. Talk about amazing.

“It’s just chemistry,” she told herself. “Nothing more.”

It couldn’t be. She was here for a job and that was all. In six months their fake relationship would end and she would go home, much richer for the experience.

The trick was to not get personally involved. But for the first time she wondered if that was going to be harder than she’d ever imagined.

“Tell me about the woman,” Kateb said as he shrugged out of his robes and tossed them over a chair in Qadir’s suite.

Qadir poured them each a Scotch and handed his brother a glass. “What woman?”

Kateb raised his eyebrows. “Word of your involvement had even reached me in the desert, so there must be a woman.”

They settled on the oversize sofas in the main living area. Qadir raised his glass in a toast to his brother. “It is good to have you back. You stay away too long.”

“I find no pleasure in the city. I belong in the desert.” Kateb took a sip of his drink. “But you have not answered my question.”

“Her name is Maggie Collins. She’s restoring the Rolls.”

Kateb’s expression gave nothing away. “And?”

“And she’s beautiful, funny, down-to-earth.”

“You say all the right things. What aren’t you telling me, brother?”