Sheikh's Surprise Son Read online

  Before Bailey quite knew what was happening, she was arching up into his hands and mouth, whimpering and asking for more, and then he settled his large hand between her legs, cupping her soft mound with a tenderness that took her breath away.

  “May I touch you here?” he asked, with the devil's own glint in his eye, and Bailey couldn't stop herself from stuttering out a longing yes.

  He settled her into the crook of his arm, snuggling her close to his body as he stroked her between the legs. She threw one leg over his, desperate to give him more, and his erection brushed against her thigh as she did so.

  “You're turned on,” she whispered, almost startled, and the laugh that rumbled through his body was as dark and rich as chocolate.

  “More than you would believe,” he said. “Now hush, I am looking after you for the moment.”

  She wasn't sure what she made out of being looked after by a man she had only met a few hours ago, but when his slid his fingers over her most sensitive flesh, the last thing in the world she wanted was to fight it.

  “Oh,” she murmured, burying her face in his muscular shoulder. “Oh that feels so good...”

  It was just the beginning, and her frame grew tauter and tighter as he stroked her, his fingers sliding over and over along her slit before finally entering her. There was nothing coarse or demanding about his touch. Instead, it was beautifully sweet and caring, something so wonderful that she barely knew what was going on before she started to shake.

  When Bailey realized she was trembling, it was almost too late to stop it. She could feel from the way her core tightened, the way her muscles trembled, that her release was coming, and it shocked her how quickly and easily it had come.

  “Adnan,” Bailey said urgently. “You… I'm going to...”

  “That's exactly what I want,” he murmured, brushing his warm lips against her cheek. “Come for me, darling.”

  It was the sweetness of his voice that did it, and the command as well. Bailey found herself helpless to resist it, and then, just as he had told her to, she was toppling over the edge, her entire body shaking with the urgency of her release as she whimpered desperately for more.

  It was as if she had been struck by lightning, and for several long moments, all she could do was cling to Adnan, mouthing his name against his shoulder, her leg locked around his thigh as he gently pulled his fingers from her body.

  When she could gather herself to speak, when she could finally make words happen again, there was only one thing that she wanted to say.

  “Want you,” she whispered insistently. “I want you right now.”

  Adnan started to respond to her, but then she traced her fingertips across his smooth hot shaft, even harder now and pressed against her hip. He shuddered as if she had shocked him, and when she drew her palm along his length, he growled something that sounded a lot like her name.

  “Please,” she murmured, and then he toppled her onto her back, rising up over her like something dark and wild from the desert.

  “Want you so very much,” he growled, and then he was kneeling between her spread legs, his strong hands cradling her hips and tilting them up towards him.

  Bailey whimpered at the first touch of his cock against her, and she gasped with pleasure as he slid the blunt tip just barely between her lips, moving up and down over the flesh he had recently made so soft and sweet.

  “Please, please, please, oh!”

  She let out a soft and longing cry as Adnan slid into her with one long stroke, smooth and filling her in a single moment. She was momentarily stunned by how well they fit, by how good he felt, and then she unraveled in a long moan as he started to move.

  There was never a moment when she thought he was apart from her, when he was after only his own pleasure. Her name fell from his lips, and she couldn't resist the urge to wrap her legs around his waist to draw him even closer. With every stroke, Bailey could feel the way he burned for her, how every motion brought him closer to what they both wanted.

  “Bailey, ah, Bailey!”

  “Oh, please,” she whimpered, burying her face in his chest. “Please, let me, have me...”

  Bailey didn't even know what she was asking for until the core of her body tightened again and she threw her head back in surprise. She had known she would take pleasure from this act, but she had had no idea that she would have it again, that she could even take it again.

  Now, she was tightening and shuddering around him, her body arching up against his, and she knew that whether she had planned it or not, it was happening. Just as Adnan thrust into her one last time, she let out a long and wondering cry, her body clinging to his, rent with pleasure and wild with fulfilled need.

  For a moment, Adnan clung to her, his weight falling down on her like the most delicious blanket. When he tried to move off of her, she clung to him, shaking her head.

  “Bailey, are you all right?”

  “I am,” she murmured. “Only stay right where you are. You feel too good to lose right now.”

  “You're not going to lose me,” he said tenderly, and though she knew that this was a one night stand, a fling that neither of them could really afford to repeat, she let the sweetness of the words sink into her anyway.

  “Still, just stay where you are.”

  He sighed, and though he leaned his weight on his elbows, he stayed where he was, covering her with his strength and his warmth.

  “We forgot the condom,” she said after a moment, and Adnan made a soft considering sound.

  “We won't next time.”

  His self-assurance made her laugh.

  “So very confident that there is going to be a next time?” she asked teasingly, and then she gasped as Adnan rolled over onto his back, carrying her with him, their bodies still intimately joined. She ended up sprawled on top of him, and now she was looking down at his handsome face, the flash of his white teeth, the sheer and indefatigable maleness of him.

  “I think I might be able to convince you,” he said, his voice utterly guileless.

  “You know, I think I would have to see that to believe it,” she said with dignity, and Adnan laughed, rolling his hips up and making her catch her breath.

  Chapter 5

  When Adnan woke, the light creeping around the edges of the blinds told him it was mid-morning at least, and he frowned. He hadn't risen with the dawn since he was in school and going to various sports practices, but he usually didn't like to sleep the day away.

  He realized that it wasn't just the hour that was throwing him off a little. It was also the fact that the bed was empty, and it felt as if it shouldn't have been. Another moment, and the events of the night before came back to him, and he scowled.

  I didn't want her to creep out of here as if she was ashamed of what we did, he thought, trying to ignore the way the idea of that gnawed at his heart.

  She is only a naive young woman. I wanted to make sure she was well after everything we did. Perhaps we could have spoken longer or had breakfast.

  Adnan sighed, knowing how ridiculous that would have been.

  It was a fling, and there was nothing wrong with that as long as it stayed a fling. She had apparently understood that better than he had. He could take a lesson from her.

  He told himself such things throughout his shower, but when he came out, his ears pricked up at the sound of light footsteps in the kitchen. It seemed as if his rather charming guest hadn't left after all, and for some reason, that made his heart skip a beat.

  Silently, dressed only in his silk robe and a clean pair of boxers, Adnan made his way to the living room, which opened out to a gorgeous view of the forested ravine behind the house. The light was just coming on strong, giving the room a silvery light that would turn gold in just a little while.

  Bailey stood in front of the broad bay window, and for a moment, he only took her in from the back; the erect way she stood, the elegant straight line of her spine, the curve of her rear that was visible through the loose fit
of her light trousers. Besides the trousers, all she wore was a bra. Her red hair had been swept back into a careless bun, nesting softly at the back of her neck, scarlet strands falling out to brush against her ivory shoulders.

  So very beautiful, Adnan thought. If only I could keep her.

  There was a small voice in the back of his head wondering why he couldn't do just that. She struck him as a graduate student, or perhaps one of the girls traveling through the Mideast looking for adventure when they were between jobs. Would it be so very impossible to bring her back to the capital with him, to spoil her on the high life a little and extend their good time just a little longer?

  You have enough on your plate, he tried to tell himself, but the truth of the matter was that all of it, the World Heritage Site business, the preservation of Ikkar, felt very distant right now. There was a sting of guilt for how easy it was to push aside, but her beauty made it so.

  I can always ask, he decided. I can ask, and even if it doesn't work out past the next few days, at least I'll have had a few more days with her.

  Adnan started across the room, ready to make his proposal, and then abruptly he realized that she was on the phone, nodding at whatever was being said.

  “I'm glad you called, Dad,” she said, her voice crisp and eager in a way he hadn't heard it before. In the back of Adnan's mind, it struck him as oddly efficient and professional, more like how she would speak to her boss than the way she would speak with her own father.

  “No, I'm certain. This is where you want to be. The place is amazing, the food is incredible, and the local traditional music scene is – Yes. Yes, I know that you're dealing with a sophisticated crowd. It won't matter, there's just so much life here that – yes. Yes. I understand. I'll of course get you all the data. Just… just trust me. I know what I'm doing.”

  Adnan frowned because while Bailey might have known what she was doing, he was unclear. Was her father a tour operator or someone who was investigating Ikkar for tourism? Either way, he didn't seem like a particularly warm or caring man, to send his own flesh and blood to out of the way places to—

  “Right Dad,” Bailey said with a sigh. “I know. Andress represents a brand and a reputation and a way of life. I haven't forgotten that. I'm not going to, all right? All right. Okay. Bye. Talk to you soon.”

  She ended the call with a sigh that tugged at his heart, but then the name clicked, and Adnan's eyes narrowed.

  Bailey turned and jumped a little to see Adnan standing behind her. She laughed, shaking her head a little as she pocketed her phone.

  “I didn't see you standing there,” she said. “Figured you'd still be out.”

  Adnan dismissed her words with a sharp gesture of his hand. Suddenly, this tryst was becoming a great deal less than the simple night of pleasure he had anticipated it being.

  “Who are you?” he asked, and she gave him a strange look.

  He realized that somewhere in the back of his mind, there was the sneaking and unworthy thought that she had planned at least some of this, that she had played on his sympathies and they had ended up in bed together for less than savory purposes. Seeing her confusion was something of a balm, because it was clear that while he was beginning to get a clue about who she was, she had no idea who he was.

  “I'm Bailey,” she said cautiously. “You knew that.”

  He snorted.

  “That's not the important part, is it?” he asked, his voice harsh. “It never is.”

  A stubborn look came over her, and she thrust her chin up in the air, defiant as if she weren't only in her trousers and a bra.

  “It's the most important part,” she said, and he shook his head.

  “Not when your last name is Andress,” Adnan retorted. “Not when you're the daughter of Roland Andress, and you are, aren't you?”

  “I am,” she said, and she narrowed her eyes, looking him over as if searching to see what had changed. She shook her head.

  “What is it to you? My father is a real estate developer. My father is looking to make investments—”

  “Your father,” Adnan said through gritted teeth, “is looking to turn Ikkar into a playground for the wealthy and foreign, and to plunder the natural wealth and traditions of my country. That's what Andress Ventures does. That's what it has always done.”

  “My father brings money to areas that need it,” Bailey said hotly, twin patches of scarlet high on her cheeks. “We are not taking anything away from anyone.”

  “You and your father package up what is interesting and palatable to the rich of the world and turn people into servants and entertainers in their own homes—”

  “It beats letting them try to mug travelers!” Bailey shot back, and Adnan went still, staring at her.

  “You have no idea what you're talking about,” Adnan said coldly. “You come to a country with a little bit of education, thinking that of course you know best over everyone here, thinking that of course you have the solution to all of the problems that have arisen over the course of hundreds of years—”

  “And who are you that you have so much more insight?” she asked, her voice suddenly softer. It could have come out as an accusation, but instead there was something quieter about it, something not angry but considering.

  She's not making an accusation, she's trying to understand, Adnan thought, and for some reason, for some ridiculous reason that he didn't like to think about, that softened him in turn. Last night, she hadn't been trying to consume his culture or his world. She hadn't been trying to consume it or to make it hers. Instead she had only been enjoying the parts of it that he himself had offered to her. She had been trying to understand then, and she was trying to understand now.

  He was still watching her as she came a little closer, and it struck Adnan all over again how very fearless she was. She was alone, she had been attacked just a short while ago, she was in a place where she was a foreigner in just about every way... but she still wanted to understand. She still wanted to figure out what was going on.

  The wiser course of action would be to simply escort her out, to return her to town and to leave well enough alone. She had her plans, and he had his. However, there was something in him that would simply not let him leave without offering her at least what she had offered him, that was, a modicum of the truth.

  “I am Adnan ibn Malik Haddid,” he said, and had the grim satisfaction of watching a look of slow astonishment cross her face, her extraordinary blue eyes going wide.

  “Sheikh Adnan,” she said, giving him the correct title and using it correctly with his given name rather than his family name.

  Adnan nodded, sketching an ironic bow in his robe and boxers.

  “One and the same,” he said. “And I think you might have an idea why I have some problems with what you and your father are doing.”

  “You're trying to get this entire location turned into a World Heritage Site,” she said, and he was startled by the stern disapproval in her voice. “You want to trap it in amber.”

  “I want to preserve the history of my country so that it is a living thing,” he corrected her, scowling. “I want it to exist in more than just dusty books and static museum exhibits. I do not wish to see it paved over into another resort of concrete and glass.”

  “I think there are investors and government officials in your own country that might agree with my aims and those of my father over your preservation,” she said coolly, and Adnan had the strange feeling that they might as well have been fully suited up for a boardroom battle rather than half-dressed after a night of passion that he was absolutely not letting himself think of.

  “You've already been laying your groundwork,” he said, his voice low enough to be a growl. “You've been sniffing around for investors and interest in your little project.”

  “I do my homework, Sheikh Adnan,” she said, striding past him. “And though I would like your support, from what I have seen… I think there is a chance that I will not need it.”

&n
bsp; She was headed for the bedroom, giving him only a sideways glance as she went.

  “I'm going to call for a car,” she said, “and I'm going to get dressed. Thank you so much for the rescue last night and the brilliant time afterwards. I hope that our next meeting will be amenable, if less exciting.”

  There was something in Adnan, something that lived deep inside him, that could not let that go. One moment, he was prepared to let her leave and to meet her through impatient conferences and phone calls, and the next, something about the way her eyes turned to ice, about how very red her mouth was, refused to allow that.

  Adnan hooked his hand through the crook of her elbow, pulling her back around and reeling her in for a kiss. They had kissed throughout the night, her soft and warm and willing in his arms, and she was willing now, but the warmth had turned to fire.

  After a moment of initial surprise, her arms came up to cling to him, and he reached down to bury one hand in her fiery hair. The kiss was passionate but it was deep and wild and more than a little angry as well. Adnan wanted to believe that it was something that came from his fury at what she and her father was doing to his country, but there was a part of him that, however unfairly, felt betrayed by what she was.

  I have no reason to be angry except for the fact of who she is, he thought even as the kiss wrapped him up into a vortex of need for her. I shouldn't be angry because we cannot…

  She was the one who broke the kiss first, and reluctantly, he let her go. He could hear her breath, light and fast, and her lips glowed almost ruby after their kiss.

  “I'm going now,” she said with an impressive amount of dignity, and he nodded.

  She retreated into the bedroom, and Adnan walked to the study at the back of the house. Apparently, he had his work cut out for him.

  Chapter 6