Midnight in Arabia: Heart of a Desert Warrior / The Sheikh's Last Gamble / The Sheikh's Jewel. Trish Morey

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Midnight in Arabia: Heart of a Desert Warrior / The Sheikh's Last Gamble / The Sheikh's Jewel - Trish Morey

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heavy fabric that fell into place cutting off the sound of the others working within the tent office.

      For another, the space was decorated with dark wood and rich colors similar to those in his home. And it simply felt like it belonged to Asad.

      “I thought Bedouin sheikhs conducted business over the campfire,” she remarked, still a little flabbergasted by this modern hive of corporate activity in the midst of a Bedouin camp.

      “We are not so primitive, though I still settle most disputes among our people over a traditional cup of tea.”

      “That’s good to know. I wouldn’t want to think you’d abandoned your old ways completely.”

      “I have not abandoned them at all. I’ve simply made them work in a modern age as you guessed earlier.”

      “You’re a very wise man.” She didn’t mind giving the compliment. It was well deserved.

      But that was all he was getting from her. No matter how heated his dark gaze had gotten since their arrival in the private room. She didn’t miss the fact that there was a low divan that could easily be used for sleeping when he did not return home at night.

      “You’re just as much of a workaholic here as you were at university, aren’t you?” She’d bet even more so.

      Asad shrugged. “I have the welfare of many people on my shoulders. It does not make for long nights of sleep.”

      “If I remember right, you weren’t fond of sleeping as a student, either.”

      “But for entirely different reasons.” The look he gave her could have melted iron.

      But she wasn’t going to let it melt her heart. “Get that look off your face. I’m here to do a geological survey for Sheik Hakim, nothing more. And we were enjoying this tour. Don’t ruin it.”

      “I assure you, that is not my intention.” He moved closer and being smarter than she had been six years ago, she backed up.

      Only, when her thighs hit his desk, she knew she was trapped. She put her hands up. “Stop. What happened to having enough emotional drama for one day?”

      “I have no intention of indulging in drama. I have something else entirely in mind.”

      She shook her head, doing her best to look firm while her body yearned for his touch with a reawakened and near-terrifying passion. “We aren’t doing this.”

      “Are you certain?” he asked, his muscular legs coming to a stop only a breath of air away from hers.

      “I am. I mean it, Asad. I’m not here for a dalliance. I’m here to work.”

      “A dalliance.” He reached up and caressed the outer shell of her ear exposed by her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “An interesting and strangely old-fashioned word for a modern-day geologist.”

      “Maybe I’m a little old-fashioned.”

      “The woman who allowed me entrance to her body on our first date? One who had others before me? I think not.”

      She shoved at him, hard, his words a better deterrent to her giving in than anything she could have come up with. “You don’t know anything about me.”

      He actually stumbled back a step; maybe in surprise at the strength of her attack. He might be playing, but she wasn’t. She slid away from him quickly, stopping only when she was near the door and could make an instant escape if necessary.

      The arrogant assurance in his stance and demeanor did not change at all. “I think I know some things about you very well.”

      “You knew me six years ago. Things change. People change.” Please God, let her have changed enough.

      “If that were so, you would not be afraid of what you would reveal with my nearness.”

      Oh, he had more nerve than a snake oil salesman and was just as trustworthy to her heart. She had to remember that. “Maybe I simply don’t enjoy being sexually harassed on the job.”

      “You do not work for me.”

      “I work for your cousin.”

      “But not for me. You and I both know your job with Hakim in no way relies on what happens between us.”

      “Or doesn’t happen?” she taunted.

      But he nodded decisively. “Or doesn’t happen. You want me, Iris. I can see it in the flutter of your pulse here,” he pointed to his own neck. “And the way you lose your breath when I am near.”

      She slapped her hand over her neck, as if she could hide the evidence, but knew he was right. “I am not controlled by the urges of my body.”

      “So, you admit you desire me? I will take that as a start.”

      “You’re a fantastic lover, Asad, but you’re lousy odds for a relationship and I’m not interested in a brief sexual encounter.”

      His nostrils flared, like they used to when he was particularly turned on. “When we make love, it will be anything but brief.”

      “And anything but love.” Regardless of the corresponding heat pooling in her womb. “It’s not going to happen.”

      “You are lying to yourself.”

      “You go right on believing that and while you are at it, leave me alone.” She fled from the office and then the tent, heading back into the encampment toward the one Asad had pointed out earlier that housed both Russell and their equipment.

      Asad had refused to stop and let her explore then, saying there would be plenty of time for her to spend in that particular dwelling. She intended to make that true.

      She didn’t care if her hasty exit and walk through the city of tents was considered dignified. She didn’t have to be a general to know when all-out retreat was called for.

      She was only surprised when Asad did not pursue her, but then perhaps he was more aware of his own dignity than she was of hers.

      Russell evinced no surprise at Iris’s arrival and commenced a steady stream of chatter regarding his own observations of the encampment while they set up their equipment and portable lab. All he required from Iris was a noise of agreement every now and again.

      While most of the analysis of the samples and measurements they took would happen back in the real lab, some things were best handled in the field. And she was lucky enough to work for a firm that could afford the latest in portable geological lab equipment.

      She reminded herself of that pertinent fact as her fight-or-flight instincts prompted her toward booking the next plane seat back to the States.

      “So, what’s the deal between you and the sheikh?” Russell asked when he’d exhausted the topic of the city of tents.

      “Sheikh Hakim?” she asked, trying for ignorance.

      “Get a grip, Iris. It doesn’t take a scientist

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