Annie West - For The Sheikh's Pleasure

Then common sense reasserted itself. She straightened her spine. ‘Of course.’ She nodded, hoping to seem businesslike. Just a handshake. She could cope with that.

But, even as she reassured herself, he lifted her hand in his, held it just below his lips so she felt the rhythm of his breath hot on her skin. She blinked.

‘But with a lady, a handshake is not enough.’

Was that glitter in his gaze laughter or something else?

No, it wasn’t laughter. She just had time to realise it was something more dangerous when his mouth brushed her skin. The kiss was warm, soft and seductive. Her breath hitched as their gazes locked. His eyes were pure black. Black as night, dark as desire. Inviting, beckoning. A blaze of flame licked through her abdomen, igniting a flare that grew and spread like fire in her bloodstream.

She shuddered as his lips caressed her skin, pressing more firmly and somehow, impossibly, finding an erogenous zone on the back of her hand. Her chest heaved as she gasped for oxygen. He paused so long that she felt warm air feather across her skin as he exhaled once, twice, three times.

At last he lifted his head, but the stark hunger in his face made her want to turn tail and run back the way she’d come.

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