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Sleeping with the Sheikh: The Sheikh's Bidding / Delaney's Desert Sheikh / Desert Warrior. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.

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


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another glance toward the cabin only to discover that her son had disappeared. “I guess so,” she said, then slid inside the limo.

      For the first few minutes they rode in silence, yet Sam couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Andi reluctantly admitted she appreciated his joy and understood it. Spending time with your child was the greatest experience on earth.

      “So did you have fun, Sheikh Yaman?” she asked in a teasing tone.

      His grin deepened. “Yes, I did most certainly.”

      “I’m glad.” Andi paused for a moment, frustrated that he was going to make her drag a conversation out of him. “I noticed you really seemed to enjoy the swim.”

      “Very much.”

      “The women sure seemed to enjoy watching you swim.”

      He frowned. “I do not understand.”

      “Are you saying you didn’t notice they were all staring at you when you rose from the water like some Arabian god?”

      Sam laughed. “Andrea, your imagination is second only to your love of good horseflesh.”

      “I’m not imagining things. I thought I might have to do CPR on them when you executed that perfect dive. Of course, those swim trunks did tend to enhance your finer features.”

      “They are plain, Andrea. Simple black. Adequate cover.”

      “Nancy sure seemed to like them, and everything in them.”

      He raised one dark brow. “Nancy?”

      “Yeah. Little Bubba’s mother. The divorced one who wore four-inch heels with her metallic gold thong and kept gushing over you all day.”

      “I do not remember her.”

      “Oh, I’m so sure.”

      His gaze slid over Andi, and she suddenly found herself covered in gooseflesh. “I would not have noticed this Nancy with you present. The suit you wore drew attention, as well, and not from me alone. The blue brought out the color of your eyes and the fit enhanced your figure. Very nice indeed.”

      Andi wanted to laugh. Her suit was a relatively modest two-piece, and for most of the day she’d worn her oversize cover-up. “I just bet you say that to all the girls in your harem.”

      “I have no harem.”

      Andi tossed up her hands in mock exasperation. “Well, darn. There went my desert fantasy.”

      Sam rubbed a large hand down his thigh, bare because of the shorts he now wore, capturing Andi’s attention. “I am sorry to disappoint you.”

      In reality he hadn’t disappointed her. Yet. But the night was young, and she had only one major goal in mind—to convince Sam that spending the next two hours in the limo could be as boring, or as exciting, as they chose to make it.

      On that thought, she fanned her face. “It’s rather warm in here, don’t you think?”

      His expression went as taut as the black leather covering the seats. “I am comfortable.”

      “Well, I’m not.” She unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall open to reveal the top of her less-than-comfortable bra. “That’s a little better.”

      “I will ask Rashid to adjust the air.” Depressing the intercom button to his right, he made the request then settled back against the seat with the magazine he’d been reading earlier.

      This would not do, Andi thought. She refused to let him ignore her. Feeling brave, she reached for the button on her denim shorts then reconsidered. “Speaking of Rashid, can he see back here?”

      Sam sent her a suspicious look. “Not as long as the privacy window is intact. Why do you ask?”

      “Just wondering.”

      Muttering something in Arabic that Andi couldn’t understand, Sam went back to the magazine and Andi went back to tugging off her shorts. On afterthought, she unfastened her bra and slipped it off through the armholes then tossed it onto the floor to join her shorts. Now she wore only a white sleeveless cotton shirt and a pair of skimpy black panties. If that didn’t get his attention, Andi doubted anything would, short of leaning out the window naked and hollering at the top of her lungs.

      When Sam failed to look at her, she decided to take matters into her own hands, or whatever else she needed to take into her hands to earn his notice. All day long she’d endured the sidelong glances aimed at Sam. And all the while she’d had to pretend they were old friends.

      She was tired of the whole charade because he was more than a friend. He was the father of her child, and at one time her lover. Just once more before he disappeared again, she wanted to experience all that he had to offer, if she could just convince him to cooperate.

      On that thought, Andi slipped to her knees and crawled to the opposite seat to move between Sam’s parted legs. When he looked up, she noted a hint of surprise in his expression.

      She grabbed the magazine and tossed it behind her, then slipped her fingertips immediately underneath the hem of his khaki shorts. “Is that magazine so darned interesting that you can’t give me a little of your time?”

      He nailed her with his dark eyes. “Is my time all you want, Andrea? If so, you do not have to resort to such measures as crawling on your knees.”

      “You don’t like me on my knees?” she asked, topped off with a suggestive grin.

      His glance fell to her open blouse that now revealed a good deal of her breasts. “I would like you to return to your seat and put your clothes back on before I…”

      His words trailed off, leading Andi to believe that he was entertaining some of the same naughty ideas.

      “Before you what?”

      “Before Rashid sees you.”

      She frowned. “I thought you said he couldn’t see back here with the window up.”

      “I do not believe he can, but I’ve never ridden in the front to test the window’s merits. It would be unwise to take that risk.”

      Andi’s wicked side surfaced, and she climbed onto the seat on her knees, straddling Sam’s thighs. “Why don’t we just hope for the best? Besides, you can always say you had something in your eye and I was trying to remove it.”

      He braced his hands on her waist but didn’t attempt to move her out of the way. “I doubt that Rashid would buy such a weak excuse.”

      “Considering this car’s owner, I’d just bet Rashid has probably seen it all.”

      “What are you saying?”

      “You and other women engaging in some hankypanky.”

      “I use this car for business purposes and nothing more.”

      She rimmed her tongue along the shell of his ear and whispered, “Then maybe we should get down to business.”

      “Andrea, why are you so intent on pursuing this?”

      Pulling back, she locked into his dark gaze, determined to have her say—and her way. “Because I have to know if I only imagined how wonderful you made me feel, or if it’s just the fact I had no one to compare you to.” She ran the tip of her tongue across the seam of his lips. “I want to know if you’re really all that great.”

      Sam tightened his grip on her waist, and his eyes went almost black. “Are you saying that you wish to know how I compare to other men? Have there been so many, Andrea?”

      There had been only one other man, a brief affair that had been more than disappointing, but revealing that fact wouldn’t help her cause. “I’m saying it was a long time ago and that maybe my recollections are incorrect.”

      “Yet you have told me repeatedly you do not wish to resurrect the past.”


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