The Sheikh's Secret Heir. KRISTI GOLD

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      As soon as she returned to the palace, she would seek out Tarek Azzmar and ask a few more questions about his proposition. Only then could she establish if spending more time with him would be worth the risk.

      * * *

      “Miss Darzin is here to see you, sir.”

      Tarek glanced up to find the young woman he’d recently hired standing in the doorway to his private study. He hesitated, surprised by the announcement. “Send her in, Adara.”

      After the servant disappeared, Tarek set the quarterly reports on the teakwood end table, rose from the club chair and waited for what seemed an interminable amount of time before Kira appeared, looking as beautiful as the first time he’d noticed her across a crowded reception hall.

      After tugging at the hem of her blue blazer, she swept one hand through her chin-length golden-brown hair and surveyed the room. “It’s nice to see you’ve completed all the décor.”

      “It is very nice to see you.”

      “Thank you,” she said with cool formality. “Everything looks extremely different from the last time I visited.”

      The visit Tarek had not forgotten. The tour of the newly built, empty mansion had ended with a passionate encounter on the floor of the grand ballroom. “I still have some work to do on the third floor suites. How was your appointment with the physician, if you do not mind my asking?”

      “I received a clean bill of health.” She then strolled into the room and breezed past him to study the volumes of books on the shelves behind his desk. “You have very eclectic tastes when it comes to novels. I had no idea you were so interested in true crime.”

      He slid his hands into his pockets and approached her slowly. “Did you come here to approve my reading material?”

      Finally, she faced him. “Actually, I came here to discuss the trip to Cyprus. I have a few more questions before I make my decision.”

      His optimism rose when he thought she might have reconsidered his proposition. “What would you wish to know?”

      “You’re certain we would be gone only two weeks?”

      “Unless unforeseen issues arise. Granted, you would be required to stay only that length of time. Should you decide to depart earlier, I agree to accommodate your request.”

      She folded her arms beneath her breasts and attempted a smile. “Then you don’t plan to hold me hostage against my will?”

      Her assumption angered him somewhat. “I would never hold a woman captive.” At least not in the literal sense.

      “That’s somewhat reassuring.”

      “Do you have more questions?”

      “Yes. I still have concerns about your motives.”

      He could not fault her for those concerns. “Are you worried that I will attempt to seduce you? Perhaps persuade you to make love with me on my private beach, in my private pool or in my rather large steam shower?”

      She pointed a finger at him. “That’s exactly what concerns me most.”

      He opted to feign ignorance. “As it was when we made love the first time—”

      “The only time we had sex,” she interjected.

      He hoped to change that soon, yet he would use gentle persuasion, not coercion. “As I was saying, I would never force you to do what you do not wish to do. And I assure you, my motives involve business, not necessarily pleasure, although I am not averse to that.”

      “You’ve made that quite clear, and that worries me,” she said as she brushed past him and claimed the chair he had recently vacated.

      Following her lead, he dropped onto the leather sofa across from her. His eyes followed the movement of her hand as she ran her palm down her thigh to smooth her skirt. He immediately imagined that hand on his body and then, with effort, forced the fantasy away. “Rest assured, if you join me, I will maintain my distance if that is what you desire.”

      “That’s what I desire,” she stated, yet her faltering gaze led Tarek to believe she was not at all certain.

      “I will respect your wishes.” Unless their incontrovertible chemistry dictated otherwise.

      She appeared unconvinced. “Tarek, you’re a brilliant businessman, but you’re still a man. You possess two brains and if the situation arises, so will your secondary brain. You would have to maintain a great deal of control.”

      He would not attempt to debate her on that point. “You will have your own quarters at your disposal and you will have to endure my presence only during our business dealings.”

      She began to twirl the silver band on her right ring finger. “Look, I enjoy your company and I have since we first met. I’m just not in the market to enjoy it too much again.”

      Feeling satisfied over the admission, he inclined his head and studied her. “Then you did enjoy our encounter?”

      She hesitated a few seconds. “I suppose I have to admit that I did, with the exception of the marble floor.”

      “That is why I allowed you to be on top.”

      “After you had me on my back.”

      “On your back so that I could quickly remove your clothes and run my mouth down your body to facilitate your—”

      “We don’t need to go there.”

      He could not suppress a grin. “Ah, but I already have, and considering the sounds you made, I do not believe you were disappointed.”

      She quickly stood and sighed. “I’m not in the mood to take a journey down memory lane, so I’m going to return to the palace now.”

      Tarek came to his feet. “Shall I expect you on the plane tomorrow?”

      When she did not immediately respond, he held his breath and hoped. “I’ll let you know tonight, when you’re dining at the palace.”

      He frowned. “I did not realize you were aware of the invitation.”

      She sent him a disparaging look before crossing the room. “It’s my job to know everything about the royal family and their esteemed guests,” she said on her way out.

      After she disappeared, Tarek checked his watch, reclaimed his chair and picked up the phone to make his daily call to the other female in his life. If he did not do it soon, he would regret the oversight. A few moments passed before he was greeted with the familiar, quiet, “Ahlan?”

      He opted to answer in English, not Arabic, to test her acumen, as he had since teaching her the language. “Did you receive my gift, Yasmin?”

      “I did!” she said with the marked exuberance of a typical five-year-old. “He is lovely.”

      That was not how he would describe the street-roving

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