Brenda Jackson - Sleeping with the Sheikh - The Sheikh's Bidding / Delaney's Desert Sheikh / Desert Warrior

With that she hurried to the first floor, not daring to look back to see his reaction. Before she made it out the door, she heard what sounded like a baseball hitting plaster, and she figured she’d probably driven home her point. Now she would attempt to drive him crazy with need, drive him back into her arms, and in doing so, drive him from her heart for good.

She’d have to take it slowly, plan carefully and, most important, remember she intended to tell him goodbye, once and for all.

Sam sat at the breakfast table, exhausted from physical labor and lack of sleep. After the way Andrea had touched him two days before, the kiss, the promise in her words, he had stayed awake both nights in Tess’s room, tensing at every sound, worried that Andrea might come to him and he might not be able to turn her away. But in fact she had barely spoken to him as she carried on with her normal activities, not once mentioning the kiss or her proposition.

Sam had avoided her, but he couldn’t avoid her now, especially when she occasionally glanced at him while moving the scrambled eggs around on her plate. He found himself staring at her mouth several times, watched while she nibbled at her food. Everything about her enthralled him, from the slight spattering of freckles across her nose, to the fragile column of her throat and that same fire in her eyes that caused his heart to pound in a fearsome rhythm.

He had tried to listen for the sound of the transport scheduled to bring the filly, but he hadn’t been able to concentrate. Before, the family dog, an Australian shepherd named Troubles, would have alerted everyone. Odd, he hadn’t noticed until today that the dog was no longer around.

Pushing his plate back, he asked, “Where is Troubles?”

Tess shook her head and spoke around a bite of toast. “He ended up on the wrong side of a tire when Chance was four.”

“And you haven’t found another?”

“I haven’t had time,” Andrea said as she stood.

Or the money, Sam thought. “I could provide one.”

Andrea picked up their plates and slipped them in the sink. “That’s not a good idea. With the traffic on the highway, I’m afraid we might lose another dog, and I don’t want to put Chance through that again.”

Sam hated the thought that his son had suffered through such a loss, but he was coming to realize that loss was a part of life that could not be avoided. “Then he remembers?”

Tess swiped at her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, he remembers, but he’s okay with it. Andi told him that Troubles was with Uncle Paul, jumping from star to star.”

Obviously, Andrea still maintained a fascination with stars. The night Paul died she’d insisted that the brightest held his soul, and that she would hang her dreams on him for safekeeping. In that moment Sam had recognized that his love for her was as infinite as those stars. Making love with her had been a natural expression, a means to show her, since he had never told her.

The sound of a truck brought him out of his recollections and back into the present.

Andrea wiped her hands on a towel and faced him. “Do you think that’s them?” Her excitement came through in her tone and the widening of her blue eyes. The first time Sam had witnessed her joy since Chance had left.

“Perhaps we should go see.”

Before he could move, Andrea had already raced down the hall toward the front door.

“I swear,” Tess said, then chuckled. “Nothing gets that girl more excited than a good horse.”

Sam knew all too well what else excited her, but he would be wise to keep that out of his mind. “True. I hope this one doesn’t disappoint her.”

Tess propped her legs on the opposing chair and sent him a wicked grin. “I doubt she’ll be disappointed. I’m sure you’ll see to that while you’re here, if you haven’t already.”

Without response Sam left the room, determined to ignore Tess’s veiled suggestion. Nothing would please him more than to please Andrea in every way possible. But he would have to settle for providing a prize filly, otherwise he would be repeating past mistakes, knowing that he would have to leave her once again.

He joined Andrea at the rear of the massive trailer and waited for the filly to be unloaded. Sam was more than a bit apprehensive since he had never purchased a horse sight unseen. But when the man backed the filly down the ramp, Sam acknowledged that she was a treasure, as was Andrea who stood staring at the two-year-old. The woman had wonder in her eyes as she watched the filly prance about, restless with the need to run after her journey.

“Sam, she’s unbelievable,” Andrea said, almost in a whisper.

“I have to agree.”

The man held the lead rope up. “She’s all yours.”

When Andrea failed to move, Sam said, “What are you waiting for?”

Andrea stepped forward and took the rope, then allowed the filly to sniff her free hand before scratching her behind the ears. As if the horse somehow knew she had found a friend, she settled down, accepting the display of affection without protest.

“What’s her name?” Andrea asked.

“At the stables we called her Sunny,” the man said. “Her registered name is Renner’s Sun Goddess.”

“Sunny it is.” Andrea turned the horse and led her toward the stable. “I’m going to put her on a longe line and see how she moves,” she tossed over one shoulder.

“Good,” Sam said. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

By the time Sam had signed the appropriate paperwork and paid the handler before sending him on his way, Andrea had the filly in the outdoor arena, working her at a trot.

Sam propped one heel on the arena’s bottom rung and watched both horse and trainer in action. The mare’s flaxen mane and tail flowed with her fluid movements. Andrea’s red-gold hair fluttered in the June breeze, the color very close to the horse’s near-copper coat. Together they were a matched set, a tribute to beauty and grace with a wildness that lingered immediately below the surface.

Sam kept his attention on the filly only a brief moment, now that he had the opportunity to look his fill at Andrea without her knowledge. She had matured into a woman in every way, and that concept unearthed a searing heat low in Sam’s belly that had nothing to do with the Kentucky sun.

She wore a light-blue shirt that barely reached the top of her jeans, jeans that fit every curve to perfection. When she raised her arm to keep the filly moving, Sam caught a glimpse of flesh at her waist. He imagined how it would feel to have his hands there, lower still, molding them to her bottom, pulling her against him, letting her know how strongly she could affect him, how being in her presence aroused him beyond all bounds. He was definitely aroused now and had been for two miserable days with no possible end to that misery, unless…

No, he could not act on those desires. It would be unfair to both of them, even though Andrea had made the offer of her assistance in that matter.

Andrea drew the filly into the center of the arena, turned to face him and called, “She’s a winner, Sam.”

Her vibrant smile had him smiling, too. Pleasing her did please him, and again he thought of many ways he could bring her more satisfaction, ways that would leave them clinging to each other, breathless, sated…

The crunch of gravel turned Sam’s attention to the drive. A massive red truck pulled up next to the pen and a man dressed in typical cowboy garb got out. Without invitation he opened the gate to the round pen and joined Andrea.

Because of his proximity, Sam couldn’t hear the conversation though he assumed they were discussing the filly. Then their shared laughter floated over the breeze, and the man moved closer to Andrea. Too close.