intoxicated guests.
Fortunately, the lift they caught was empty. It whisked them up to the tenth floor, Charlotte only then realising she’d possibly drunk too much wine on her mostly empty stomach. She’d only managed a bite or two of the dessert, and none of the coffee and mints afterwards.
‘You all right?’ Daniel asked when the doors whooshed open and she stayed clasping the brass railing that ran around the lift wall at hand-height.
‘I think I had a bit too much to drink.’
‘I noticed you didn’t eat much. Are you feeling sick?’
He looked worried, Charlotte noticed.
‘I’ll be all right. Just a slight dizzy spell from the lift.’
‘Here. Take my arm.’
She smiled a wry smile as she did so. ‘Is this you looking after me?’
He grinned. ‘Absolutely. You can look after me later.’
Suddenly, Charlotte was overcome with panic. Because she knew what Daniel meant. Without a doubt, he was expecting her to be a woman of the world, experienced and confident.
‘Daniel, I… There’s something I have to tell you,’ she said. She had to warn him; had to explain that she was not the sexy piece she seemed.
‘There’s nothing you have to tell me, beautiful,’ he said softly, pulling her round into his arms. ‘Tonight is my responsibility, not yours. You don’t have to do a thing. Just lie back and enjoy.’
His words brought a rush of relief, Charlotte realising that if she’d told him she was bad—or boring—in bed, everything would have been spoilt in advance. This way, she had a chance to become the wanton woman she was in her fantasies.
‘But I don’t think I should kiss you just yet,’ he said ruefully. ‘Better we get behind closed doors first.’
A shudder rippled down her spine. ‘Closed doors sounds good,’ she agreed. ‘Have you—er—got the passkey to the suite?’
‘Right here.’ And he patted his pocket.
‘Did you come up to see this particular suite before you booked it?’
‘No. Should I have? Is there something wrong with it?’
‘Not at all,’ Charlotte denied.
But he was in for a surprise. She hoped he liked it. She certainly had, despite being initially startled.
Daniel saw the gleam in her eyes and wondered what was waiting for him. Whatever it was, he was sure he would approve. Anything that pleased Charlotte this much would please him.
The Arabian Nights suite was the first one along the carpeted corridor, its name outlined in gold on the door. Shoving the plastic card into the lock, Daniel waited for the green light, turned the brass handle then pushed the rather heavy door open. The darkness inside was soon dispelled when he slid the card into the slot by the door, the lights coming on automatically.
‘Good God!’ he couldn’t help exclaiming.
‘You think it’s over-the-top?’ she asked, sounding disappointed by his reaction.
‘No, no, it’s fabulous.’
Her face beamed with more happiness than it had all night.
‘Come and see the rest,’ she said excitedly, taking his hand and pulling him across the black, marble-floored foyer and under a very ornate Moroccan-style archway. There, the marble gave way to thick, velvety red carpet that sank underfoot further than any carpet he’d ever encountered.
‘This carpet is amazing,’ he said. Just made for making love on.
And so were the sofas!
There were three of them. Low and wide and colourful, they were slightly curved, arranged around a circular, black-lacquered coffee-table on which rested a huge platter of fresh fruit, and a gilt ice bucket holding a magnum of champagne.
Beyond the sofas, curtains the colour of the water around Tahiti framed a floor-to-ceiling window that showed a panoramic view of the city skyline. There was no overhead lighting. Only lamps and wall lights. All gold. All exotic-looking.
‘Look up at the ceiling,’ she said.
His eyes moved up the deep blue walls to the very high ceiling above, which was draped in black silk shot with gold.
Wow. He now understood why this place had cost so much.
‘Fit for a sheikh,’ he remarked.
‘That’s the idea. It’s supposed to tap into people’s fantasies.’
‘Do you have a sheikh fantasy?’ he asked, reaching to pull her into his arms once more.
She gasped as their chests made contact. ‘Only if you’re the sheikh.’
He liked the sound of that.
‘So tell me,’ he murmured as he set about removing her tiara and veil, ‘how does that fantasy go?’
Charlotte shivered at the touch of his fingers in her hair.
‘You have your wicked way with me all night,’ she confessed breathlessly. ‘And I love every single moment.’
‘That’s not fantasy, my beautiful Charlotte. That’s going to be reality.’ He tossed her veil and tiara onto the nearest sofa, before suddenly quirking an eyebrow at her. ‘All night?’
‘See? I told you it was a fantasy.’
‘No, no. I’m sure I can rise to the challenge. But I have only limited protection with me. I will have to be inventive when they run out. Do you mind inventive, beautiful Charlotte?’
‘I don’t think I’d mind anything with you,’ she told him truthfully as her heart thundered behind her ribs.
Daniel suppressed a groan. There went his intentions to be a caring, considerate and conservative lover tonight.
Still, she clearly didn’t want a caring, considerate and conservative lover tonight. She wanted the sheikh fantasy, where the dark and dangerous desert prince carried her off by force, thereby wiping away any sense of shame or guilt if she just happened to enjoy herself. She wanted him to take total responsibility for what happened here tonight. She wanted him to play the sheikh.
Fine. He could do that. Especially here, in this incredibly erotic setting. He’d already glimpsed the bedroom through another archway and it made the exotic living room look almost sedate.
‘Come,’ he said in a masterful tone. ‘We shall retire to the boudoir.’
‘Wait till you see it!’
Daniel tried not to ooh and aah.
But talk about harem territory.
