would be working nonstop behind the scenes the entire time.
He inhaled deeply as the scent of the ocean filled his nostrils, and after taking a few steps his sandals hit the soft sand, making him feel as if he was walking on marshmallows. Sharm al-Sheikh was a beautiful place, a developed tourist resort on the Sinai Peninsula that catered to the rich and famous. Even in the moonlit night, he could make out the large five-star hotels that dotted the shoreline.
A number of his men had made plans to hang around after the president’s visit to relax and unwind. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be one of them. He had promised his mother that he would be returning to the States in time to make an appearance at the christening of his cousin Thorn’s son.
Quade had to admit that he always looked forward to returning home to Atlanta whenever he could. The Westmorelands were a large group and getting even larger with all the recent marriages and births. And then there was the possibility that they might find even more Westmorelands if the genealogy search his father was conducting proved out. It seemed that their great-grandfather had a twin everyone assumed had died while in his early twenties. It appeared the black sheep Raphel Westmoreland, who had run off with a still-married preacher’s wife at the age of 22, was still alive. Both Quade’s father and his father’s twin brother, James, were eager to find any descendants of their long, lost wife-stealing, great-granduncle Raphel.
Quade had been walking near the shoreline for a few moments when suddenly he felt an intense yearning in the pit of his stomach, an incredible ache that ran through his body.
He stopped walking as his gaze took in the stretch of beach in his path. It was dark and he could barely see, because a haze had covered the earth in front of him, some sort of low-hanging cloud. He took a cautious glance around him as the ache got more profound. And then seconds later, a woman appeared out of the mist.
She was absolutely the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
He blinked to make sure his mind and his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. His gaze traveled down the length of her body, taking in her white linen pant set and the mass of dark, luxurious hair that flowed recklessly around her shoulders and cascaded around her face. He felt his body respond to her presence. He tried to get his breathing back to normal while at the same time wondering what was going on with him. Why was he reacting to her this way?
She had seen him at the same time he had seen her and he watched her reaction. By the look in her dark eyes, she was feeling whatever it was that he was feeling. It had her in the same intense sexual grip. He could sense it. Just like he could sense the pull he felt toward her, specifically her mouth. She had the kind of lips that made you want to do naughty things to them, lick them, taste them forever. They had a shape just for kissing and were the kind that any man’s tongue would want to wet and tease.
“You’re out rather late, aren’t you?” he heard himself asking, feeling the need to say something before he was forced to do something he would later regret. He was known as a man with iron-clad control, but you wouldn’t know it now. He was being reduced to melted steel.
“I could say the same for you,” she said. Her accent told Quade she was an American. Before now, he hadn’t been sure. The sound of her voice was soft and seductive. But he had a feeling it wasn’t intentionally so. It probably couldn’t be helped since it went with the rest of the alluring package she presented. Was she someone he should know, a movie star perhaps?
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said.
Then he saw the lift of her shoulders, and noted the way the soft material of her blouse draped around them, showing a nice cleavage with uplifted and firm breasts pressing against her blouse. He also saw her smile and his stomach clenched and his throat tightened.
“Some nights aren’t meant for sleeping. This could be one of them,” she said, her voice stirring the unbridled lust that was flowing through his veins.
Her response made him consider the possibility that she could very well be coming on to him. If she was, then she had done so at a time when he was ripe for the picking. Normally, he didn’t pick up women, no matter how tempting they were. He had a list of his usual partners back in D.C. who knew the score. He didn’t have time for serious relationships and the women he bedded knew it and accepted it. There wasn’t a woman alive who could make a claim for Quade Westmoreland, in no shape, form or fashion.
He sighed ruefully, wondering how she would handle the question he was about to ask her. “I’m Quade. Would you like to go up to my room for a drink?”
She took a step closer, stared at him as if studying the outline of his face in the moonlight. And then her gaze shifted and scanned the full length of his body and the dark gaze that finally slid back to his eyes nearly took his breath away for the second time that night.
“And I’m Cheyenne,” she finally said, offering him her hand. “And I would love joining you for a drink.”
The moment their hands touched Quade felt it all the way to his toes. His eyebrows snapped together in confusion and he wondered why he was behaving like a man desperate to get laid. A man without any control or willpower. A man whose needs were being exposed. And frankly he didn’t care too much for the thought of being that way. He needed to take a step back or knock some sense into his head.
Instead, still holding her hand, he leaned closer to her, inhaled her scent. “Let’s go now,” he said, hoping and praying she wouldn’t change her mind. “I’m staying at the Bayleaf,” he added as they moved in the direction of his hotel.
He held her hand as she walked beside him. At first they said nothing and then she said,“This isn’t common behavior for me.”
He glanced over at her. “What isn’t?” he asked, deciding to pretend he had no idea what she was talking about.
“Following any man this way.”
He slowed his pace. “Then why are you now?”
He studied her features. Saw the confusion in her eyes and knew she was just as baffled as to what was taking place between them as he was. “I don’t know. I just feel this strange connection between us. It’s like I know you when I really don’t. For heaven’s sake, I just met you barely five minutes ago.”
“I understand,” he said, and really, he did. He actually understood because he felt the same way, although he hadn’t a clue as to why. And for the moment maybe it was just as well. All he knew was that he wanted her in a way he’d never wanted another woman. It seemed his level-headed nature was being placed on the back burner, falling victim to a need he couldn’t describe. It was a need that was taking over his senses.
“And what brings you to Egypt?”
Her question, spoken in a soft voice, sent a quiver through him. There was no way he could tell her the real reason he was there. No one, not even his family, knew the full extent of what he did for a living.
He glanced over at her. “Mainly business. What about you?”
She met his gaze. Held it. “Business, as well.”
He wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth and a part of him figured she wasn’t. However, he wouldn’t lose any sleep over the fact that she wanted to keep secrets since he was keeping a few, too.
Suddenly it dawned on him that there was one question that he had to ask her. He stopped walking and she automatically stopped beside him and met his gaze with
