and gardens nestled within the interior—”
“As I have seen.” Haidar interrupted the slick Elwan Al-Shami’s sales pitch. He’d let him take him through the place, even though he’d already seen it as he’d waited for his arrival. The estate’s caretakers had fallen over themselves to show him around as soon as they’d recognized him. “Let’s close the deal.”
The man’s eyes brimmed with eagerness, yet Haidar could see he wasn’t ready to do so yet. He was programmed to keep driving a client’s acquisition need to fever pitch before he sprang the killing price. Even now that Haidar had made his efforts redundant, he couldn’t stop before his program had run through.
“When the owner heard it was you, he named a too-exorbitant figure. That’s why I asked how far you’re willing to go.”
Haidar swept his gaze around the place that answered any visions of heaven he’d ever had. “Shrewd man. He knows it would sell no matter how high he goes.”
“And he demands cash. That’s why those who bought it before fell behind in paying the installments of the huge loans they took, had to relinquish it to the indebting banks. The owner was always there to buy it back and make a profit.”
“He won’t be buying it back this time.”
“As long as you’re sure—”
“B’Ellahi ya rejjal. Name your price.”
The man blinked at Haidar’s growl. Then licking his lips nervously, he did.
Haidar whistled. No wonder many men had been broken by their desire to acquire this place.
Just as the man started to look worried, Haidar gestured to the distance. “Throw in those dunes and the land up to the road and you have a deal. Send me the contract and payment details. I want this finalized by tomorrow morning.”
Before the man could express his elation at this once-in-a-lifetime deal, Haidar waved goodbye and headed to his car.
As he drove away, he took one more turn around the area to soak in the sight of the place that would be his in hours. It already felt as if it had always belonged to him.
He could have gotten it at half the asking price.
But this haven of solace and seclusion was worth the expense. It hadn’t felt right to haggle for something he appreciated this much.
And then, he had to save bargaining powers for what lay ahead.
The war of reacquiring Roxanne.
Haidar’s body now officially hated “Cherie.”
If it sustained lasting damage from the blow of deprivation her sudden appearance had dealt it, it would remember her as his worst enemy.
Nothing was working to mitigate the gnawing need for Roxanne. Not even bringing himself to release twice while mentally reenacting their plummet into sensual delirium, this time to an explosive end.
He’d continue to ache until he slaked his hunger in her body. At least three times a day. For a month. To start.
He rested his forehead against the wet marble as he let the barrage of cold, needle-sharp water pelt his flesh, attempt to put out the inferno she’d relit inside him.
And to think he’d sought her out to prove that he’d blown her effect on him out of proportion. That he’d find the older edition of the woman who’d dealt him his life’s harshest humiliation and disillusion hard and off-putting. And that gaping hole in his psyche would be sealed once and for all.
Then he’d seen her. Talked to her. Dueled with her. Touched her. Fast-forward to his current agony.
Way to exorcise the memory of her, you idiot.
Instead, he’d only managed to resurrect it to full raging life. Worse. He’d managed to create a new breed of monster. An insatiable one that nothing would appease except total and repeated satisfaction of its every craving.
He had to give it everything it hungered for.
Not that she’d make it easy. Not that he’d want her to.
Sure, she’d melted at his touch, would have let him take everything he wanted, taken everything he gave. But he had no illusions. That surrender wouldn’t be repeated. For some reason, she was averse to letting him back into her bed. Perhaps the career woman she was wanted her men safe and convenient, when he was anything but. Or she feared indulging her lust would compromise her career. Whatever it was, the element of surprise had been expended. All he had now was post-almost-sex upheaval.
He had to strike again while the iron was white-hot.
He exited the shower cubicle, didn’t bother drying anything but his hands, strode across the hotel suite to his cell phone.
He dialed her number, gritted his teeth as he waited for her to pick up.
She would. Because she wouldn’t recognize his number.
“Hello?”
He squeezed his eyes. Aih. It hadn’t been temporary insanity. If one breathy hello could have him fully hard all over again, she now operated his hormonal controls.
His lips twitched in self-deprecation at his weakness, in satisfaction at intending to give in to it thoroughly.
“Is Cherie gone?”
The silence that greeted his question indicated that it had stopped her breathing. Good. He shouldn’t be the only one having trouble breathing over this thing between them.
“I can come over if she is.” He marveled at the humorous, sensual goading that came so naturally when he talked to her. “Better still, you come to me. I’m at Burj Al Samaa.”
“Your turf is a hotel room?” she finally said. “And what would your terms be? Something from the room-service menu?”
A laugh rumbled from his gut. Ya Ullah, but this was new. He’d never enjoyed her wit this much before. But then, he hadn’t known she was witty. Now that he thought about it, they’d talked last night more than they’d talked in a month back then. Their limited, stolen times together had been consumed mostly by hot and heavy sex. Back then, all the talking she’d done had been with Jalal. He’d felt left out, and he hadn’t even known how much he’d missed.
He wouldn’t miss a thing now. He’d have it all. All the fire and friction and fun of her.
“But I’m proposing a continuation of our first round, not a second one. That will be on my turf and terms.”
“You’re …” He could tell she muffled the phone with her hand. He could still decipher what she said. “I’ll only be a moment. Sure, I’ll take another cup of tea.”
His smile froze. She … sounded totally different. Easygoing and eager. She’d never sounded like that with him. Not even when she’d been claiming to love him.
Then he heard the voice that answered her. Distant and muted. But definitely male.
