Nick was stunned by the mention of the Al-Alain family and knew immediately who the sixteen year old was. Her father was Zahir Al-Alain and he had been at Oxford during Nick’s first year in England. He was guest lecturing in international law at the University when they met through mutual friends. The illegitimate son of a powerful Middle Eastern Sheik, Zahir was driven to prove himself outside his half royal pedigree and had been something of a guide and mentor to Nick in his grad college days.
They’d been friends ever since with the two enjoying each other’s company during the odd times they intersected through business and whenever either of them was near the other’s home base. Zahir was one of Nick’s closest friends ranking right up there and only slightly behind Ned.
Because they’d been friends a long time, Nick was one of the few people who knew the story of Zahir’s doomed love affair with an English girl which had ended badly although Nick didn’t actually know what had caused the break-up. What he did know was that Zahir had carried around the burden of a broken heart for a long, long time.
Many years later Zahir would discover that this love of a lifetime had produced a child and from that moment forward he had been single minded in his drive to claim the daughter he hadn’t known about while also rekindling his relationship with Amelia’s mother. Nick had met the lovely Suzanne Spencer many times in the past couple of years and could understand why his friend had been so desolate without her. The two complimented each other in a way that made people stop and pause. He was tall, dark, powerful, and every inch an Arab male while she was an English rose; just as tall but with pale alabaster skin, light eyes and golden blond hair They made a stunning pair and the daughter they’d created was a perfect blend of the two.
These were feelings Nick could understand and he was glad now that he’d been openly supportive when Zahir had publically declared the three a family just four years ago. That Amelia was turning sixteen already surprised him true, but what really set him back a few paces was that Shannon was doing the party and that the event itself was in England. Shannon’s reputation had apparently gotten her the attention of the world’s power elite.
Nick knew he would be invited to the gathering and it struck him between the eyes with the force of a moving train that even without the interference of his meddling sister he and Shannon had been on a collision course one way or the other. The universe had apparently put in motion several opportunities when it would be likely that their paths would cross.
“Kismet.” he said out loud to no one but himself and that was the thought he took with him as he silently returned to Shannon’s sleeping bedside so he could leave her the note he’d written. He’d tell her about Zahir of course when the opportunity presented itself. Nick didn’t necessarily want to elaborate on having been in her office or having seen the gigantic glass jar filled with what could only be regarded as yet another direct tie to their past, in case knowing that would make her uncomfortable.
As he let himself out the front door after pocketing her keys so he could get back in, Nick knew that turnabout would be fair play when he got her on a plane and flew her to his home back east where, like he had seen here, she would find plenty of evidence that he had never truly cut the cord with their past. He thought of the tell-tale candies which would be everywhere; on the plane, in his limo, at the office and he thought about a couple of other things which would show his currently sleeping woman that she’d never been far from his thoughts.
When Shannon awoke to the sounds of birds twittering on the patio she was astonished to realize she’d slept well beyond her usual early morning habit. Truthfully she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that soundly and chalked it up to the delicious male body that had spooned her throughout the long night.
She’d been dimly aware of him wrapped around her earlier and had drifted in and out of a sound sleep while her senses savored the feeling of his huge strong presence next to her. When he had shifted and ground his clearly engorged staff against her derriere she had been sorely tempted to wiggle in response but good sense and the fact that she wasn’t nearly awake kept her still enough to fall back into a deep sleep that included some rather risqué dreams where she did way more than let him rub against her bottom. When she finally did wake up he wasn’t there, making Shannon clear her head in a big hurry.
As soon as her eyes popped open and she sat up she saw the sticky note on the headboard featuring Nick’s elegant scrawl explaining that he’d gone for a run. Satisfied but refusing to analyze why she’d been so quickly fearful by his absence, Shannon settled back under the covers and turned toward his pillow which she snuggled in his absence.
Mmmmm, she thought. He smelled so good evidenced by the lingering scent his body had left in her bed. She smiled at the thought that they’d slept together and knew a sense of deep contentment. It was something so simple, sharing a bed, but the story that scenario told was way more than simple.
It was probably a good thing that he wasn’t around right then because Shannon’s mind suddenly flooded with images from the erotically charged dreams she’d been having as she came awake.
In her dreams she had been the one to wake first and it was she who had initiated a slow motion exploration of Nick’s naked chest while he slumbered on. He had felt so wonderful under her questing fingers that Shannon had lost herself in sensual awareness. Such is the way of dreams for they let the dreamer weave whatever they want into the moment.
In Shannon’s dream moment she had indulged in his maleness, searching out and then running her fingers back and forth against the nipples peeking through soft hair covering his chest which lead like a road sign to delights hidden lower.
She’d kissed his skin and licked her way south until reaching the barrier of the unbelievably sexy underwear he preferred which were skin tight and nothing more than a mouthwatering pouch for his impressive manhood.
In her dream she woke him up in the most erotic and exciting way she could with a slow tortuous blow job that found her moaning and sucking on his impressive hardness with unrestrained enthusiasm. Apparently, in her dream world, this was the perfect way to say good-morning for in the next heartbeat her suddenly awake and rampantly aroused cowboy pirate was pushing down his shorts as he ripped off her knickers so he could lift her up in one fast, smooth move, lowering her rather forcefully onto his throbbing staff.
From there her dreams had smoldered and burned as she had imagined taking him on a wild ride until her grinding and writhing on his sensitive staff as she whimpered in a total loss of control had forced him to take over. Shannon held on for dear life while he bucked up into her aching core, impaling her on each upward stroke; filling her so deeply she cried out in the throes of unbearable arousal. It was just a dream but mesmerizing in its sensual imagery. So much so that when he exploded inside her and she throbbed around him in a blinding climax, her dream seduced body shook in response.
No wonder she didn’t want to get up and only wanted to snuggle against his pillow. Shannon had known desire before but nothing quite like this. When she finally found the courage to accept what Nick was offering she was worried that the intense passion they had awakened might consume them both. In the next heart beat that worry changed to female satisfaction and thoughts of what was yet to come.
She was also nervous as hell and didn’t quite know what to do with an excess of swirling energy. Looking into her heart Shannon stayed still for quite some time as she gave herself over to the wishes she was forming and also the fears which weren’t quite ready to disappear.
Getting up, she tested her foot against the floor and was relived to find that she’d be able to start walking around on her own, if only just a bit. The ankle didn’t hurt at all when she stood; it just felt a bit funny from all the swelling which had gone down and the bruising which unfortunately was still evident.
Sometime later she hobbled cautiously out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a Boho Chic top with fluttery half sleeves tha
t made her feel a little like a gypsy. With her tresses finally managed properly following a good blowout and the use of some old school combs holding back either side of her hair, she looked and felt more together and normal than she had for days. Hell, she’d even applied a quick swish of mascara on her naturally blonde lashes giving her unusual eyes a sweet, sexy highlight that helped her self-confidence.
Nick was certainly back from his run because she’d smelled another round of awesomeness coming her way from the kitchen for the last half hour as she got ready for the day. She was guessing bacon, coffee and something with a hint of cinnamon that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She loved how domestic he was and wondered with an irritating flash of red hot jealousy whether he’d ever been this casual and at home with anyone else.
Eight years was a long time and she didn’t imagine for a second that a man with Nick’s potent sexuality had been living the life of a monk. Her pragmatic side shouted that he was a man after all and what should she expect? The romantic side of her brain though was shaken by the thought. She’d never allowed any other man to touch her the way he had. Thinking of him with anyone else was too painful to dwell on.
She calmed a bit because she sincerely doubted that he had ever been this comfortable or as laid back with any other woman. Thinking of their easy camaraderie and the way he had always focused on her and her alone, helped ease the green eyed monster back into hiding. Worrying about things she couldn’t change would only lead to unnecessary anxiety.
Hobbling cautiously into the kitchen, she saw that she had been right about the bacon when she spied a huge pile of perfectly crispy strips on a platter next to an equally large bowl of sliced fruit on the kitchen island. She laughed at the sight of what the typical man would imagine was a healthy breakfast. Snitching a plump strawberry from the beautiful fruit bowl she made her way gingerly, carefully protecting the injured ankle, to the oven where she found Nick bent over, peering into it. The heavenly aroma of cinnamon mixed with vanilla permeated the air, making Shannon’s mouth water.
“Something smells wonderful.” she cooed as she blatantly considered his fabulous rear end while thinking, and something looks wonderful too.
Nick straightened on her approach as he pulled at hot pan out from the oven. Grinning ear to ear he showed her what he’d made proudly proclaiming, “I make the best cinnamon coffee cakes you’d ever imagine!”
Dropping the pan onto a cooling rack Nick immediately returned to Shannon’s side to offer her his arm as she made her way to one of the tall, upholstered bar chairs at the end of the island. “Hey lady, looks like you’re making real progress with the ankle. How does it feel? You’re not overdoing it are you?” he scolded before she could answer the first question. All Shannon could do was smile.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Having found an island of calm, Nick and Shannon eased through the day making arrangements and plans for their trip east and Shannon’s family event. Because of the time change, they’d be taking off on a flight scheduled to depart at dawn. There was a lot to do before they traveled.
Shannon had spent a good deal of time on the phone and computer in her office turning over work duties to her assistant while Nick handled the endless details involved with getting them from Los Angeles to New York to Connecticut to Boston.
He laughed when she ransacked her closet searching for something suitable to wear. The woman had enough clothes to stock a showroom judging by the pile of outfits flung on the bed. It was an odd moment when she asked what color suit he’d be wearing. Knowing she was making her decision based on how they would look as a couple made him the happiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet.
“Formal or informal?” he asked before responding with decisiveness. “Black. Definitely Armani. Two button. White shirt. Silver cufflinks and tie color of your choice.” That something so simple could be so enjoyable was a pleasant surprise.
Shannon smiled at his answer. So, her cowboy pirate preferred black Armani. Why was she not surprised?
Choosing what to wear became much simpler after that with Shannon taking enormous delight in knowing that she was coordinating their outfits just like any other couple. It was the simple things that affected her the most.
After putting her outfit into an old garment bag Shannon had been surprised when Nick had interrupted by gifting her with a new set of luggage that had just been delivered. He looked ….. hesitant.
He’d given her a beautiful set of matching luggage that she couldn’t help but run her fingers over in appreciation. It was exactly what she would have chosen if she’d seen the gorgeous set in a store. There was a carry-all bag with a soft leather strap perched on top of two rolling suitcases, a garment bag and a vanity case. She was astonished to realize that he had chosen all of it himself or at least if not actually chosen, certainly described in great detail to someone tasked with getting him precisely what he wanted. That he could read her so effortlessly was oddly thrilling.
He’d selected an interesting muted brocade fabric with hand stitched soft leather accents that she found charming. A little ‘old school’, which actually suited her, and also just this side of being quirky, the unexpected gift had moved her more than it should. That he’d taken such care in the choosing and the way he watched for her response warmed her enormously.
Nick hesitated in breathless anticipation. Would she eschew the gift because of the obvious cost involved? Had he moved too far, too fast? God, indecision and trepidation were wholly unfamiliar feelings for him, Nick thought wryly as he stood there starving for oxygen, holding his breath waiting for a reaction. She was killing him.
For long seconds she stared at the luggage with the strangest expression; a cross between astonishment and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She was still killing him only this time … slowly.
When she put out one of those delightfully feminine hands with the perfect pale pink and white manicure, and ran her fingers along the soft leather of the nearest bag, Nick all but fell over in relief. Anytime she put those fingers to use something positive was happening. Her feelings operated like an empathic channel and she often used her sense of touch to heighten her awareness.
To his enormous and satisfied delight she graced him with a luminous smile that reached straight into his chest and surrounded his heart.
“Mmmm, Mr. Barrett.” she purred in perfect imitation of a genteel southern lady. Clearly feeling mischievous and delighted at the same time she kept on with, “Are you trying to turn my head sir, with fancy gifts and romantic shenanigans?” This said in a cute southern drawl which in his mind’s eye all but brought his 6’ 4” frame to its knees.
“I don’t know.” Nick husked. “Is it working?” he asked with a flirtatious wink. If she wanted to play, he was more than game. This was what he remembered, what he yearned for. He and Shannon, together. Laughing together. Working together. Exploring together. Loving together. His heart rejoiced at another baby step taken.
“I’ll take these into your bedroom and open them up so you’ll have an easy time packing.” he announced, keeping things light but not overworking what had been a spontaneous moment lest she turn uncomfortable with her response.
“If you want me to stay and help…..” he added giving her a moment to decide whether she needed assistance. When he saw no immediate need to step in he continued on adding an unexpected playful twist of his own. “I’d be happy to go through your lingerie and chose what you’ll need.” he joked innocently a second before playfully nudging her shoulder with his and chuckling out another bald statement. “I remember that pink used to be your favorite color. Is it still I wonder?”
He is the devil Shannon thought. Struggling to find a suitable comeback comment she ended up standing mutely while his twinkling leonine eyes smiled into hers. She was wearing pink undies this very moment as it really was her signature color when it came to intimate attire. It may be a cliché but she liked how feminine it made her feel. She’d be damned
though if she let him know that. He was hard to resist when he was being charming and Shannon had long since concluded that she was anything but resistant or indifferent to those charms.
Before she could take back control of the conversation, he had started moving the luggage set to her bedroom leaving Shannon to thrust her shoulders back and shake herself mentally in an attempt to be a little less of a simpering, giggly twit.
Oh dear, who was she trying to convince? Especially since right at this moment she had a perfect view of Nick’s absolutely perfect posterior encased in a pair of well-worn and totally molded to his form jeans. The types of jeans that left little to the imagination and which made her hands itch to touch. Simpering, giggly twit indeed. The lascivious groan tap dancing in her consciousness was fighting for air. Oh boy, she was doomed.
As he hauled the bags to the massive sleigh bed which dominated her bedroom she got an even further reminder of the fully grown man he’d become. Her attention was riveted by the sight of his impressive biceps and strong thighs as he hoisted each bag onto the high bed. The bed they’d both slept in last night, together.
Limping slowly across the room to stand at the foot of the bed, Shannon looked at him across the expanse of mattress which separated them. Since their rapprochement and especially after Jules and Ned’s timely visit, she stopped fighting the aching, vulnerable awareness that his presence in her life evoked with her every breath. She wouldn’t survive if he walked away from her again and now that the other ghosts of heartbreak past had been retired or banished one by one, this was the only lingering impediment which she still couldn’t breach.
He said she needed to have faith. Faith in herself and faith in him. That was a tall order and not entirely due to trepidation about his motivations. Shannon worried endlessly about her own part in all of this. She didn’t know if she had faith in herself to be the woman she felt he deserved. She was afraid deep, deep in her secret heart of hearts that perhaps he’d been right the first time and maybe she didn’t have a place in his world. She still couldn’t bring herself to tell him the entirety of what happened to her after their emotional break-up even though he had asked her several times in several different ways.
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