Brenda Jackson - Sleeping with the Sheikh

“Put it on.”

When she finally took the shirt, Sam walked to the opposite stall, braced his hands above his head and leaned into them. His chest burned from the effort it took to recover his breath and to calm his body.

When he turned again, thankfully she had honored his request. The knit shirt hit her at the knees, but the sharp sting of awareness was still present within him, even though she was now completely covered.

“I promised myself this would not happen between us,” he said, his voice thick with the desire that he couldn’t disregard.

She folded her arms across her breasts. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve broken a promise, Sam.”

“What promise have I broken?”

She strolled down the aisle a few steps then turned. “That night at the pond, you promised you wouldn’t leave me.”

“I meant that moment, Andrea. That night. Not forever.”

“That’s not at all how it seemed.”

Sam recognized that he probably had led her to believe that he had meant always, bringing about more guilt. “I said many things to you that night, but we were both in pain.” Lost in each other, lost in love both timeless and forbidden.

“Then you didn’t mean any of it?”

He had meant most of it, but he hadn’t stopped to consider that he couldn’t keep those promises. “With you in my arms, I had forgotten who I was, what was expected of me. I regret that I was such a fool.”

Andrea shrugged. “Guess that goes for both of us. Except there’s one thing I don’t regret.”

“What is that?”

“Our son. Having him made Paul’s death more bearable, easier to accept that you had left for good. I thank you for that gift. For him.”

Sam doubted that he could feel any worse, any lower. “I regret that I have not been here for him, or for you.”

“And you’re going to have to leave us again. Do you regret that?”

More than she would ever know. “I do not have the luxury to dwell on regrets, Andrea. I’ve very little time left to know my son before I have to return home.”

“Then why don’t we make the best of that time together?” She sent him another lazy smile. “Do what comes naturally.”

Sam clenched his jaw tight. “If you are saying that we should make love, then that would be unwise.”

She moved closer to him, almost close enough for him to touch her again. It took all his fortitude not to reach out to her once more, finish what they had begun.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Sheikh Yaman, I’m a grown woman now, not a girl. I’m not going to fall apart when you leave.” Her gaze faltered, belying her confident tone. “So just in case you decide to change your mind…”

She brushed past him and headed toward the tack room. After a moment she came out and called, “Catch.”

Sam grabbed the baseball midair, confused. “And the point to this is?”

She smiled a devious smile. “Just wanted to let you know that the offer still stands, in case you decide to play ball. Unless, of course, you can’t handle it.”

He could not handle hurting her again, and he would, once he told her the reasons why he could not stay.

She pivoted on her booted heels and swayed toward the barn’s opening. Without turning around, she said, “Water the horse, will ya? I seem to be a little clumsy this morning.”

For the second time in as many days, Sam slammed the ball against the wall, thinking it might be best if he did the same to his head. Perhaps he could pound Andrea out of his brain.

But a thousand blows and a million years would not begin to force Andrea Hamilton from his heart.

When Andi stepped through the back door, she was suddenly assaulted by a cold draft of air and a strong case of chills. But it wasn’t the air-conditioned kitchen that had her shivering, or her still-damp skin. Sam was the cause of her present condition.

She could still feel his soft abrading tongue on her breasts, his hands molding her bottom, his body pressed intimately against hers. Just thinking about him made her feel feverish, the low throbbing ache having yet to subside.

Andi hugged her arms across her chest, a sorry replacement for Sam, but she needed to hide the effects of their recent interlude. She realized all too late that she couldn’t escape her aunt’s scrutiny.

Standing at the sink, Tess grabbed a towel from the counter and surveyed Andi from chin to toes. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t Sam wearing that shirt this morning?”

Heat skimmed up Andi’s throat and settled on her face. At the moment she felt like a schoolgirl caught necking in the pasture. Okay, so it wasn’t the pasture, but it was pretty darned close. “I had a mishap with the water bucket. He lent me his shirt since mine was soaked.”

Tess’s knowing grin appeared. “You two already having to cool yourselves off after just three days?”

She released a sigh. “Don’t let your imagination run away with you, Tess.” Andi’s, on the other hand, was long out of the starting gate and still running full-steam ahead, thanks to Sam.

Tess’s forehead wrinkled from a frown as her gaze settled on Andi’s mouth. “I’m not imagining the whisker burn on your face, little girl. I might be old, but I’m not stupid.”

Andi walked to the cabinet and retrieved a glass. Her hands shook as she tried to fill it with water. “I didn’t say you’re stupid, Tess. I’m just saying don’t make too much out of this.”

“I won’t if you won’t. In fact, I think it’s best if you stop and consider what you’re doing before you make another mistake.”

Andi glanced up from the cup to Tess, who now looked considerably more serious. “I don’t consider Chance a mistake, Tess, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Tess leaned against the counter looking primed for a parental lecture. “Of course he’s not a mistake. He’s been a godsend. But getting involved with Sam would be a mistake. He won’t stay this time, either, Andi. You’d do well to remember that.”

If only Tess realized that’s all Andi had thought about the past few days. She didn’t need to be reminded that Sam would leave once again in the name of duty to his country. Knowing didn’t make it any easier to deal with, yet she was determined to keep everything in perspective. She also didn’t expect Tess to understand what she intended to do—make love with Sam in order to get him out of her system.

“By the way,” Tess said as she swiped at the kitchen counter, “the camp called.”

Andi’s chest tightened with panic, and she nearly dropped the glass. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. They called to remind you about parents’ day on Saturday. You have to be there by 8:30 a.m.”

Relief flowed through Andi knowing that her baby was okay. After taking a long drink, she dumped the water into the sink and set the glass aside. “I remembered it was this weekend, but I didn’t know I’d have to be there quite that early. I guess I can ask Sam to feed and water the horses.”

Tess tossed the towel aside and faced Andi, her expression no less stern. “I’ll feed the horses. Sam should go with you.”

The panic returned to Andi once more. “I can’t do that, Tess. Chance might start asking questions. He doesn’t need to deal with any stress while he’s away.”

“And when do you intend to tell him, Andi? Never?”

She hadn’t gotten that far in her thinking. She only knew she didn’t want to deliver any confessions during her son’s first opportunity to establish his independence. “I don’t know when I’ll tell him. Soon, I guess. Before Sam leaves.”

Tess sighed. “That’s up to you, but I still think Sam should go with you.”