Jennifer Lewis - The Sheikh Who Desired Her - Secrets of the Oasis / The Desert Prince / Saved by the Sheikh!

She was dizzy after Salman’s thorough kisses by the time they reached a glittering hotel at the foot of the Champs-Elysées, and it was only when they were walking in that Jamilah realised Salman was nervous. He was gripping her hand. She looked up at him but his face was impassive.

An attractive middle-aged brunette was waiting to greet them in an immaculate dark suit. Salman introduced her to Jamilah as the co-ordinator of the charity. Their French was rapid, but Jamilah could keep up as she was fluent, too. The woman was explaining that everyone had just finished dinner and were ready to start listening to the speeches, and then an auction would take place. Salman nodded, and they followed the woman in through a side door and took a seat at a table near the front of the thronged ballroom.

Jamilah was aware of the way the energy in the room had zinged up a notch when people noted Salman’s arrival, and of the intensely appreciative regard from women.

It was only when the speeches started that Jamilah realised which charity it was, and a jolt of recognition went through her. She’d read about it only recently when it had won a prestigious award. It was in aid of children who had suffered as a result of being drawn into conflict, and most especially for the notorious child soldiers of war-torn African countries. The charity was renowned for blazing a trail in setting up schools and psychological centres for those children, where they could go and be safe and get counselling to deal with their horrific experiences, with the view of either rehabilitating them with their families, if it was appropriate, or taking care of them till they could be independent.

Very few other charities offered such comprehensive, all-encompassing long-term care. No wonder Salman had set it up; he’d never had a chance of that kind of care to get over his wounds.

She watched dumbly as a young African man of about eighteen took to the podium. With heartbreaking eloquence he spoke of his experiences as a child soldier and how the charity had offered him life-saving solace. He was now living in Paris and attending the Sorbonne, having begun a law degree. By the time he’d finished talking Jamilah and many more in the auditorium had tears in their eyes. He got a standing ovation.

As he came off the podium he came straight over to Salman, who gave him a huge hug. He introduced the boy to Jamilah, who was too humbled to say anything more than a simple greeting. And then the crowd surrounded him and Salman sent him off with a wink. Jamilah could see how moved Salman was, too, with a curious light that she’d never seen before in his eyes.

He looked at her and she opened her mouth, questions and emotions roiling in her belly and her head. Still with that serious light in his eyes, he put a finger to her mouth and said enigmatically, while shaking his head, ‘I don’t want to talk about it—not tonight. But perhaps you can understand why I set it up …’

She could see the way his jaw had firmed, the determined glint in his dark eyes. She recognised his intractability. Eventually she nodded. And the obvious relief in his expression made her heart flip over in her chest. She’d just fallen a fathom deeper in love with Salman.

THEY stayed for the auction. Salman raised the bidding stakes by offering up a kiss from a well-known Hollywood heart-throb who was in the audience, and he bounded onto the stage, clearly loving the attention.

When it was over Salman tugged her up out of her seat and back through the side door. She looked at him as she tried to keep up, and asked a little breathlessly, ‘Don’t you have to … mingle or something?’

He looked back, eyes glittering. ‘I employ people to do that for me. I extract the money, I run the charity anonymously, and I show my face every now and then.’ He stopped in his tracks and turned so that Jamilah all but tumbled into his arms. ‘Anyway,’ he said throatily, ‘I have a much more pressing engagement tonight.’ With a subtle movement of his hips against hers she could feel exactly how pressing that engagement was.

She blushed, but forced herself to say, ‘This is more important, though. I don’t want to be responsible for taking you away …’

He silenced her words with a kiss, drawing her into a secluded alcove. People passed them by, but they were oblivious to everything but the heat between them. They finally came up for air and Jamilah groaned softly, resting her forehead on Salman’s chest. Would she ever be free of this insanity?

When he took her hand again and led her out she was silent. Back in the car, she noticed that they weren’t heading towards their hotel, and finally they pulled up at a small, slightly battered-looking restaurant boat that was moored near the Île de la Cité on the Seine. Lightbulbs were strung around the perimeter, bathing it in a golden glow. Her heart lurched. This had always been one of her favourite parts of Paris.

Salman led her down rickety steps and said, ‘I thought you might be hungry …’

Jamilah’s stomach growled, and she smiled. ‘You seem to be more in tune with my eating habits than I am.’

He smiled, too, and for a second looked years younger—as if some of his dark intensity was lifting. She had to stem the rising tide of tenderness. Just then a rotund man came to the door and exclaimed over Salman effusively. Clearly he was a well-liked visitor. They were soon seated in a quiet corner, overlooking the slightly choppy river. The glowing lights of hundreds of apartments shone down on them, and on the water. Jamilah could see a couple on the path by the Seine stop and share a passionate kiss—it might have been her and Salman, six years ago. She sighed.

Salman took her hand and said lightly, ‘You don’t like this place?’

She shook her head and said quietly, avoiding his eye, ‘It’s perfect. I love it.’ And I love you. Still . She curbed her words.

The waiter came then, to take their order, and Jamilah forced herself to relax. Salman ordered champagne and oysters, and they spoke of inconsequential things in an easy conversation that didn’t stray anywhere near difficult topics. Jamilah could almost imagine for a second that she’d dreamt up Salman’s horrific revelations … but then she only had to think of the charity and the work he was doing and remember.

By the time they had gorged on the succulent morsels, and after Salman had kissed and licked away the droplets that clung to her mouth, she was trembling with desire. When he stood up and took her hand to leave she didn’t hesitate.

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