by Leslie North
She pushed, she prodded—and then she turned sweet and smiling and charming. She was maddening. She was as fiery as her hair. But every now and then he would see something else in her eyes—something vulnerable and aching. He knew that feeling—that sense of being alone. He had felt it most of his life. But why did Eden have it? And why did that trouble him?
The workout helped. It swept her from his mind, left his body aching and sore—he must make more time for this—but it did nothing to ease the longing for her. Ah, how he needed a woman—he should go out to a club or take a weekend off and go to Paris or London to catch up with old buddies. He would find a girl with long legs who giggled and only wanted sex with him.
But for now he had to get to the job site. He showered, changed and heading downstairs he learned that Eden was already at the site with Belle looking things over. He frowned at that idea. Since when had Eden and Belle become such good friends? And was Belle now taking his place. He headed out to the drive—to his car—but his cell phone rang. Pulling it out he glanced at the caller ID and frowned. “Eden?” he answered, making sure his voice was calm and even.
“You need to get down here.”
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, pausing in the courtyard.
“The question is what’s right? Move your butt, mister. We might not have any workers left if you dawdle.”
She hung up on him, leaving him ready to swear. Instead, he jumped into his car and let the Jag have what it always wanted to have—speed.
Surprisingly, he found Malik still at the construction site. He nodded to him and said, “What’s the trouble?”
Malik was an older man, his hair graying but still thick. His waistline was still trim due to hard work and he seemed to always have a worried look pulling at his narrow face. Now he stroked his jaw and shook his head. “Everything is fine. I know of nothing wrong.”
Adyan frowned. If Eden said something was wrong, it was. Was Malik unaware? He slapped the man’s shoulder. “Good. Now is your shift not done?”
Malik nodded. “I wanted to make sure everything was well before I left. But, now you are here, I will go and leave matters to you.” With a wave, Malik headed for his truck.
Adyan grabbed his hard hat from the back of the Jag and started searching for the flash of Eden’s red hair. He did not have to search for long. He heard raised voices and followed them. A group of men stood near the rising steel, which gleamed in the sunlight. Arms were folded and eyes flashed with anger. Voices throbbed with anger.
Eden stood at the center of the group, her voice going up as she spoke. From the set expressions on the men’s faces, she was not getting anywhere. He did not see Belle, so he stepped into the middle of the group and raised his voice. “Sukat!”
Everyone stopped talking—even Eden. He turned to her and asked, “Why are these men arguing with you?”
She spread her hands wide. “Someone’s been tampering with the electricals, and now they’re saying that this place is cursed.” She waved at the group gathered there.
Adyan glanced at the men. “Cursed? By what?”
Glances were swapped, and at last one man muttered, “We should have paid more heed to the box found here.”
“Box?” Adyan growled. He pointed at the man and spoke in rapid Arabic. “You are fired. As for that box that was made in China and planted here to stop our work, if anyone else wants to pretend it was an ancient relic that we should revere, you can join Jamal in picking up your last paycheck!” Glances were swapped, eyes widened, but no one said anything. Adyan clapped his hands. “Fine, then. Let’s get back to work.”
The men began to move away—Jamal grumbling as he left—and Adyan took Eden’s arm. “Why are you here without me?”
She rolled her eyes but she didn’t pull away. “I didn’t think I’d need your help.” She took a deep breath and then released it. “Sorry. I shouldn’t take out my temper on you. You did help.”
Adyan smiled and shook his head. “Come on. Let us speak further in the trailer where it is cool and we can cool our heads.” He led her inside and found Belle there, looking over the plans. She was dressed today in jeans and a light, cotton shirt. She smiled, but her smile faded as she looked from Adyan to Eden. She started to stand, but Adyan waved her down. “Sit. You may as well hear this, too.” He let go of Eden’s arm and asked, “Now, why did you say we might not have any men left?”
Eden flopped into a chair. Sweat dampened her flushed face. She, too, wore jeans, and Adyan decided he must get her into clothing that would keep her cooler in the heat. She chewed her lower lip then said, “I heard the guys talking—they don’t know I speak Arabic, and that guy you fired—Jamal—he was talkin’ about some other construction bein’ ready to pay top dollar and then some for anyone who left here.”
“Daheer?” Belle asked, glancing at Adyan.
Eden sat up. “What? You know about him? What is this guy’s problem?”
Belle shook her head. “Long story. To make it short, he’s not a guy you want to meet.” She shivered. “He gives me the creeps.”
“Yeah, well, he’s giving us a headache.” Eden brushed at her hair, stood and faced Adyan. “Can we go see this guy and punch his lights out?”
Adyan had to smile. It was so like Eden that her approach was to face a problem head-on. However, that would not serve in Scaran. He held up his hands. “That will only add more delay. Let us work out a bonus plan for workers who stay—we can make it too attractive for anyone to go.”
Eden grinned. “The longer they stay, the higher the bonus. Good idea.” She frowned suddenly. “Why the hell didn’t Malik let us know about the kind of talk going around? Isn’t Jamal on his shift?”
Adyan nodded. He let out a breath. “That is something I will find out about.” He turned, but Eden stepped into his path.
She stood in front of him, face tight with worry. “Adyan, if something’s up with Malik, that’s my fault—I argued for him.”
Adyan shook his head. “If something is up, it is Sheikh Daheer who is no doubt at fault. But I will not confront that man without proof, so let us hope Malik might provide that for us.”
He started out again, but Eden put a hand on his arm. He stopped, arrested by the gesture and by the worry in her eyes. “You take care. I might not know how things are done in Scaran, but I’ve been on sites where New York’s mob stepped in to try and have a say about things, and it’s never fun dealin’ with a bully.”
Adyan’s mouth quirked. “I will, as you say, take care.” And he strode from the office trailer.
Chapter 7
Eden could feel Belle’s stare boring into her. She had to meet it sometime, so she turned and fixed a stare back on Belle. The other woman’s blue eyes widened, but she couldn’t stop the smile. “You’ve got it bad,” she said.
Eden shook her head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle—or keep a lid on.”
Belle sighed. “Just a word of advice from someone who’s been there—these Tadros guys, they don’t mess around. And they do play for keeps. Watch yourself.”
Flipping her hair back, Eden wanted to shoot back some quip about how Adyan was the one who needed to watch himself. But she couldn’t quite get the words out. Belle had that look in her eyes that said she only meant well—and Eden was pretty much certain Belle was right.
With Adyan gone, Eden didn’t have much to do other than wander the construction site, using one of the interpreters to help her ask dumb questions. She didn’t want to delay work, but anytime she saw something that might be done a better, faster way, she’d butt in to find out why they were doing things wrong. A few words to some of her guys and she soon had the locals pitted against Abbey Construction crews—nothing worked quite so well to get work done as a little competition. She also dropped some loud hints about Adyan’s bonus plans—that had ears pricking up.
By the end of the day, Adyan wasn’t back and Eden was more than beat—pretending to know nothing was a lot harder than just ge
tting in there and ordering guys around. Her smile felt stiff, her face was dusted with sand, and it looked like a weather change was coming. Since Malik wasn’t there to take over the night shift, she called Hamar over and told him Adyan had called her and asked him to tell the guys they had the night off. That seemed to make everyone happy.
Staring out at the empty construction site—Eden tried to see how the finished complex would look. Usually, at some point the vision came to her—she knew just how things would go. But this site was stubborn. She’d seen the plans and the model, but the site just looked like so much raw steel and pipes and concrete and mess. It always amazed her how you had to first make a mess to build anything—but was this really going to be something?
Belle had gone home earlier—Zafar had come by to pick her up for a night out, lucky girl. Eden had the car Belle had used to drive them to the building site. Heading over to the SUV, Eden got in. She called out a cheery good night to the security team—they were on site day and night thanks to Adyan being habitually cautious. But what was worrying her was that the real problems kept coming from within the construction teams.
Thank heavens she had her own people here on the ground—but she needed three times that many workers. Driving back to the palace, she started to wonder if maybe they should start fighting fire with some fire of their own—maybe they should try and buy the loyalty of the guys that Daheer guy had been buying. But she hated those kinds of tactics.
The palace seemed almost too quiet when she got there. She headed for her rooms, found someone to ask and found out the sheikh had some kind of state dinner to attend, Adyan hadn’t shown up, and Zafar and Belle were out in the town for dinner and, she presumed, a night of wild sex.
Eden sighed. She could use some of that right about now—something to unwind and help her relax. But Adyan wasn’t around and that wasn’t a good idea, anyway.
She trudged up to her room to try to at least soak her troubles away.
Shedding her clothing, she grimaced at the sand that fell out and started the hot water running. A glance in the mirror said her sunscreen needed more help—maybe she’d adopt the local custom of a headscarf. A construction hat wasn’t keeping her face from too much sun. Sinking into the tub—which had jets in all the right places—she decided the water was heavenly. She made use of every bath product that had been set out for her, from scented soap to oils.
The heat helped—she would have thought she’d had enough of it during the day—but the warmth relaxed her muscles. She drained the tub, dried off, and wrapped one towel around her head and another around her body.
She stepped out of the bathroom to find Adyan standing there, looking cool, casual and fresh in his usual white, open-necked shirt and trousers. She stopped with one hand clutching the doorframe. He looked good—damned good. He stood with his profile to her, looking out the French doors she’d left open, his expression thoughtful, as if he had too much on his mind.
She cleared her throat and he turned—and heat hotter than the bath water she’d just gotten out of washed over her.
Adyan suddenly sank into a chair and rested his elbows on his thighs. “Malik is missing.”
***
Eden stood where she was, a towel wrapped around her, looking absurdly beautiful. No woman should look so lovely wrapped only in towels. He wanted to stand and pull the white terry from her head so her red hair would spill over her shoulders. Her face was being tanned by the sun, but the skin on her body was pale like the moon. Ya amar, he thought.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t approach her. Malik, he was certain, had betrayed his family. Or perhaps not—perhaps Malik was simply yet another victim of Daheer’s. But he knew in his heart that was not true. And he was tired. Tired of this struggle. Tired that his family’s fortunes had settled so heavily on his shoulders.
He had taken on this job to show his father and his brother that he could do it—now he doubted himself.
Eden walked to his side and stopped next to him. She sniffed the air, then moved to the table he had arranged for her. “Food? Oh, thank Allah and anyone else listening. I’m starved. You eating?”
He waved a hand. He had no appetite. She curled up on the couch and pulled a plate into her lap, lifting off the silver lid and digging in. “Oh…my. Y’know, I never thought anyone could do better than my mama’s hushpuppies and catfish, but this…what is this fish?”
“A local delicacy,” he said, the words automatic. Why was she not arguing with him over something? “Scaran is fortunate to have the sea on its coast.”
She gave a long hum. “I’ll say. You want to talk about this Malik?” He shook his head. “You figure he’s sold out to Daheer?”
Adyan nodded and looked up at her. “I do. Which means we have no idea what trouble Malik has set for us to find. We left him in charge of the night shift.”
Putting down her plate, she came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Main word there is ‘we’ kemosabe.”
Frowning, he glanced at her. She smiled and touched a hand to his head. “It’s a phrase we Americans like to throw around. Means stupid head or something like that and we’re both in that boat. But that’s okay. If you don’t make mistakes, you don’t make anything. My dad likes to tell me that a dozen times a day—and he should know. I’ve pulled his ass out of the fire more than once.”
He caught her hand and held it. “And will you pull my ass from this fire?” He saw the pulse jump in her throat. Tugging on her hand, he pulled her closer, kept pulling until she half-fell into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her. He knew that under the robe, she would be naked. He wanted to undo the belt, to part the thick terrycloth, to touch her warm, soft skin. But was this wise?
He was reeling from the betrayal—hurting from a wrong done to his family. To him. He wanted…he wanted her. He wanted the understanding he saw in her eyes and the strength she had to offer. He wanted so much that he could not put it in words.
She put a hand on his face. “This is just for tonight, you know.”
He shook his head. “How can anyone know such a thing.”
“This is just pretend,” she said, her voice roughening. She kissed the corner of his mouth. “It’s only until we get that complex built. Then you’ll go your way, I’ll head back home, and we’ll...we’ll…”
“What?” he asked, staring at her.
She shook her head. “Dang if I know. Now you gonna take me to that nice soft bed, or are we doing this here?”
Chapter 8
This is so stupid. The words echoed in her head, but they weren’t making much of an impression because Adyan had swept her up in his arms and was carrying her to the bed like she was light as air. His face had lost that grim look and fire lit his eyes, and she was glad to see that. She hadn’t been able to bear him sitting there, shoulders hunched, looking like he’d been…well, like he had been betrayed. Which was exactly what had happened. But she hadn’t thought he would take it like this. She’d assumed he’d give an arrogant shrug and that would be that. But it seemed he was a guy who felt things deeper than he liked to show. And she couldn’t leave him like that.
She wanted him in her arms and in her bed, and yes, this would be over as soon as the building was done—but that was the future. She needed something more substantial than mere dreams tonight. She needed him just as much as he seemed to need her. She needed his arms around her and she wanted to feel small and fragile for once—just for once. She wanted to do more than flirt and pretend—and if it ended badly...she’d deal with it then.
He settled her on the bed and she reached for him, wrapping her fist in his shirt and pulling him down after her. She pulled his mouth to hers, but when his lips met hers, she was the one to moan. He tasted so good—so warm, so alive.
Tugging at the belt to her robe, he loosened it, and then his hand was on her skin, stroking over her breast. She gave another moan and he pulled back and smiled. “Eden?” he said, the word soft. She knew wha
t he was asking, but she didn’t want to talk. She wanted action.
She put her hand on his lips, then reached down and tugged off her robe. His eyes widened and he sat up to pull off his shirt and trousers. She swallowed and reached out to stroke his shaft. “I didn’t know you were big all over.”
With a soft laugh he stretched out next to her. “What do you wish?”
“You,” she said.
“Then that is what you will have.” He kissed her again, muttering soft words in Arabic as he worked his way across her shoulders, kissing every freckle, touching every tiny scar she had ever earned. The place where a stray nail had snagged her, the spot where she’d scraped her skin on an I-beam, the place where she’d fallen and hit concrete blocks. He worked his way down her body, the murmurs becoming more indistinct, and her head becoming light with need for him.
Coming back up, he kissed her, licking across her lips and then diving deeper. She wrapped her arms around him and dug her fingernails into that nice, hard ass of his. Taking the hint, he moved between her legs and shifted. With one hand, he stroked her breast, then rolled the hard nipple between a thumb and a finger. She parted her legs and he slipped into her.
Eyes closing, she focused on the sensation—the feeling of his body, hard and so hot. Sweat slicked his skin as he dove deep into her then pulled out again. She was floating now on sensation, on pleasure. His breath washed over her, rapid and warm. Lifting a hand, she turned his face so she could kiss him again. She wanted to devour him, to take him into her—she wanted so much.
She’d never felt so alive, had never known such pleasure. She was coming apart under his hard pounding and she loved it. With another moan, she gave herself to the pleasure—to him. He pushed even deeper, and let go a sigh that sounded like part of his soul had escaped. Opening her eyes, she stared up at him—at those dark, dark eyes.
He collapsed next to her, and she stroked her fingers over his cooling skin. Her body was still tingling, her head spinning. She realized she was breathing just as hard as he was. Turning, she propped herself up on one elbow and stared down at him. “This changes nothing between us.”