The Sheikh's Heir. Sharon Kendrick
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‘Ah, Cinders, Cinders,’ he mocked as he watched the battle between her provocative words and her blossoming body. And wasn’t it echoing the same battle which was taking place in his own? ‘I was simply talking about art, yet all you seem to want to talk about is sex. And just what is your real name, by the way?’
‘It’s Ella,’ she said, her head spinning. ‘And will you please stop twisting everything I say? I don’t want to talk about sex!’
‘Neither do I,’ he agreed unexpectedly. ‘Since talking about it is a complete waste of time.’
Before she properly realised what he was going to do, he had pulled her into his arms. Pulled her right up close to his aroused body and, with a thrill of shocked recognition, she was letting him. An urgent kind of hunger overwhelmed her as she felt the weight of his hands at her back. The touch of his fingers on her bare skin was as electric as it had been on the dance floor and it had precisely the same sizzling effect on her. Only this time they weren’t in a crowd with the curious eyes of the other dancers on them. This time they were dangerously alone.
She opened her mouth to say something but by then his curiously empty eyes had begun to blaze into life as he lowered his head towards her. And then it was too late.
His lips came down to meet hers and Ella’s mouth opened of its own volition, and she found herself unwillingly lost in the most sensational kiss of her life.
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