Fit for a Sheikh

by Kristi Gold

  “Yes.”

  “What else did she aid you with, Shakir?” Sorrenson chimed in.

  As suspected, the taunting had already begun, yet Darin was not in a tolerant mood. “She has been very accommodating.”

  “I just bet she has,” Travis Whelan added, drawing the other men’s laughter.

  Darin’s control shattered. “I will not abide any disrespect directed at Fiona Powers. She is a good woman and deserves to be treated as such.”

  Clint Andover, who’d been silent to this point, held up his hands, palms forward. “Darin, we’re sorry. Obviously, you care a great deal for her.”

  “He’s in love with her,” Ryan added. “I see it all over that stony mug of his. I saw it when he looked at her. And if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll go after her before she gets away.”

  “Evans is right, Shakir,” Travis said. “If you have feelings for her, and I’m guessing you do, don’t throw it away. A good woman is a damn hard thing to find.”

  Their words whirled around in Darin’s mind, even as he said, “I believe that all of you have found good women over the past few months. That could possibly disprove your theory.”

  “True, we have found good women,” Kent said. “And that leaves you as the last man standing. So don’t just stand here, go find her. Bring her back to Texas. Settle down with her. Have a couple of kids like your cousin, Ben, who by the way is a new father. Jamie had a boy last night.”

  Darin smiled when considering how proud Ben must be to have a son, although he could not imagine his cousin loving his latest child more than he loved his daughter. More than he loved his wife. Could Darin hope to have that bond with another woman? A family of his own? Would Fiona be amenable to joining him? And would he risk it all, his wanderlust and desire for justice, to go after her and find out if what she had said was true—that she loved him?

  Yes. During this mission, justice had been served. And Darin no longer needed to atone for his failures—except for one. Leaving Fiona behind.

  He turned and headed away from his friends, walking as quickly as his not-quite-healed ankle would allow.

  “Where are you going, Shakir?” Ryan called after him.

  Without turning around, he said, “I am going to see a woman about a future.”

  Fiona tipped her head against the steering wheel and let the tears, she had tried so hard to keep, free at last. They came in a rush, hot and bitter, biting into her cheeks as surely as the grief bit into her heart. Just as she composed herself enough to put the car in reverse and pull away, a sad song about saying goodbye came over the radio, and she cried some more.

  Mars to Fiona.

  She had to get a grip. Had to remember that when she’d met Darin Shakir, she’d known all along it would be a temporary thing. Had that stopped her from getting involved with him? Oh, no. She’d wanted a little adventure and she’d gotten it, knowing he was emotionally off-limits. Had that stopped her from falling in love with him? Of course not. Her stupid heart had led her right into that trap.

  But it was too late for regrets. Besides, she would never regret meeting Darin Shakir, and she would never forget him. Not now. Not ever.

  Pulling the rearview mirror toward her, she took a tissue and dabbed at the mascara smudged beneath her eyes. In a few hours she would see Lottie and Peg and get back to the business of finishing school while resuming her position in the bar. Then she would go on with her life, alone for the time being. Just the same-old, same-old, but only for a few weeks. Then the small-town girl with the big-time dreams would realize her goals and maybe even find someone who liked a little adventure, someone who was sexy and mysterious and not afraid to give himself to her.

  Yeah, right. That was probably going to be as likely as Darin Shakir…

  Walking out of the airport?

  She closed her eyes and opened them slowly to peer into the mirror’s reflection once more, believing that what she saw was simply a mirage or her imagination.

  But he was real. Very, very real.

  He emerged from the bright sunlight like some Arabian god bent on a mission to break the hearts of women around the world. He still wore all black, from his jacket to his cargo pants and boots. Aside from the slight limp, he walked with confidence, with purpose toward Fiona’s car.

  For a moment Fiona hoped that he was coming back for her, but then she decided he’d probably forgotten something, although she couldn’t imagine what. Had he discovered the missing money from his wallet? Damn, she knew she should’ve written him a check, but honestly, that had been the last thing on her mind, especially after their goodbye scene. All she’d wanted to do was run out of the terminal before she flung herself down onto the ground and cried a river right there in the waiting room. Right now all she wanted to do was fling herself at his feet.

  He approached the car, and without hesitation tossed his bag to the ground, opened her door, then pulled her out and into his arms.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  Surely she had moths in her ears. Or maybe it was the jet passing overhead. “What did you say?”

  “Come with me back to Texas.”

  Texas? “Why?”

  “To be with me.”

  Fiona fought the temptation to accept, to say yes without a second thought. But she had come too far to let her heart rule her head. “Look, Scorpio, that sounds like a really nice idea, but I have responsibilities here. To my school and my job. To myself. I can’t just run off with you on a moment’s notice.”

  “You told me you wanted adventure.”

  She couldn’t deny that. She also couldn’t deny that she wanted to be with him in the worst way. But she’d almost given up her dreams for one man; she couldn’t do it for another. She’d seen her mother run off with several men, only to come back with her heart in pieces afterward. Then again, her mother’s taste in partners had been less than stellar.

  Still, Darin hadn’t said anything about their future or what he planned to do once they arrived in Texas. “I hope you understand this, but I have a lot going on in my life,” she said. “I’ve worked really hard to be where I am now. I can’t give up my long-term goals for some temporary fling. I can’t just be your good-time girl, available whenever you whisk back into town following the latest mission.”

  “What if I told you I want more? What if I said I have no intention of leaving you again?”

  The words echoed in her brain and headed straight for her heart. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “Yes, you do.” He held her tighter. “I’ve grown tired of living for the moment. I wish to settle down, perhaps have a family.”

  “Are you saying you want to do that with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Because we’ve had a few laughs, a few quick tumbles between the sheets. I have to admit, the sex was really good, but—”

  “Lovemaking,” he said sincerely. “We made love, Fiona. I made love to you.”

  “Then you’re saying—”

  “That I’m no longer afraid of it.”

  “Love?”

  “Yes…”

  “Then that means—”

  “I love you. More than the missions, the adventure. More than my own life. Do you love me, as well?”

  How could she possibly deny it? “Didn’t I just tell you that in the airport?”

  “I would like to hear it again.”

  She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I love you, Darin Shakir.”

  He kissed her then, tenderly, sweetly, capturing Fiona’s heart so firmly, so completely, that the tears tried to make another appearance.

  When they parted, he said, “I would be honored to have you as my wife. I would be willing to remain here until you complete your schooling. After that, if you will allow it, I would build you an inn so that you might realize your dreams. It is the least I could do since you have helped me realize mine.”

  Darn the tears, Fiona thought, as they came withou
t mercy, rolling down her chin and onto her T-shirt.

  “I have made you cry,” he said as he wiped one tear away with his thumb. “I never intended to do that.”

  “Good tears,” Fiona said, followed by an annoying sob.

  “Then you will consider my proposal?”

  She shrugged, then laughed from the joy of the moment. From the purest love shining in Darin’s dark eyes. “Oh, why not. I’ve never been to Texas. But I do have a few conditions.”

  He frowned. “I am almost afraid to ask what those might be.”

  “Just a simple things. First, I have to bring Lottie because I would never leave her behind. Second, we have to drive because I refuse to fly. And third, I want you to make sure we have at least a year’s supply of condoms, bright colors optional.”

  Darin laughed then, a deep rich sound as he picked her up and spun her around before planting her back on her feet. “Alexander Kent spoke of a place in Las Vegas where we can be married.”

  Fiona released his shoulders only long enough to streak a hand over her eyes, to swipe away the remaining tears she no longer needed. “There’s a wedding chapel on every corner. But are you really sure this is what you want?”

  His expression turned serious. “More than I have wanted anything in a very long time. I would also like to have children, but not before we have a chance to see the world together.”

  “I would love to have some kids, too.” She tucked his hair behind his ears and smiled. “So I guess this means we’re in for some more adventure together.”

  “As long as it involves only the adventure we find in bed.”

  “You’ve got a deal. But what are you going to do with your time if you retire from active criminal chasing?”

  “Aside from making love to you on a regular basis, I am going to raise horses. Perhaps cattle. After we return from our very lengthy honeymoon. In Paris.”

  “Paris? First you’re going to have to get me on a plane.”

  He pulled her closer. “If you’ll recall, I have ways to do that. Very pleasurable ways. Anything your heart desires.”

  Fiona’s heart only desired one thing at that moment—to be with her dark stranger, the sheikh in disguise, from this point forward.

  Epilogue

  Fiona Powers Shakir had landed on Planet Machismo smack dab in the middle of a regular manfest. No doubt about it, the members of the elite Texas Cattleman’s Club had macho—and obviously fertility—down to a fine art. She wouldn’t doubt it one bit if all they had to do was hang their pants on a bedpost to get a woman pregnant. Which reminded Fiona to make sure Darin kept his trousers in the closet. Not that she didn’t want to have a child, but not until she’d had plenty of time alone with him, at least another five years or so, or until the inn-in-progress was well established. But boy, she would sure get in plenty of practice in the meantime if she had anything to say about it.

  As they passed through the doors of the hallowed TCC headquarters, Darin introduced Fiona to several of the members, both old and new. They had beautiful wives, equally beautiful children and names like Dakota and Hank and Aaron, too many to remember right now. But at least she had no trouble remembering Darin’s cousin’s name who greeted them both with a smile. Since their arrival in Royal two weeks ago, Fiona had spent quite a bit of time with Ben and his wife, Jamie, along with their newborn son and lovely little girl—when she wasn’t spending time in bed with her husband, doing things that would make Texas bluebonnets wilt in the height of spring.

  She hadn’t experienced the beauty of the famed state flowers that had withered away before the first heat wave hit with a vengeance. Fiona couldn’t say that she blamed them. The arid June temperatures, typical of a Texas summer, threatened to melt her makeup. Not that the scorching weather mattered all that much, since she’d spent most of her time here indoors. However, she was growing rather warm every time she glanced at her debonair husband as they walked out of the building and onto to the back lawn, hand in hand, before entering an elaborate tent—a massive, white air-conditioned tent, draped with twinkling lights and housing rows of linen-covered circular tables for the guests. And there were plenty of guests, along with several silver trays containing every food imaginable set out on banquet tables lining the perimeters of the tent. In the center of the area sat two identical wedding cakes draped in yellow sugar daisies topped with miniature cowboys primed to kiss their miniature brides, a pair of tiny gold boots circled by two gold bands suspended over their heads.

  The wedding reception was in honor of Natalie and Travis Whelan, as well as Ryan and Carrie Evans. Both couples had married in the nearby chapel in a private ceremony an hour before. Both women were now joined with Cattleman’s Club members, as was Fiona, and looked mighty proud of their mates.

  Mighty proud? Only a brief time in Royal and Fiona was already thinking in Texas speak.

  Like the wives who had gone before her, Fiona now knew the true purpose of the influential organization. The mantra, etched in white icing on the massive chocolate grooms’ cake, said it all: Peace, Justice, Leadership. This diverse group of men—gorgeous, wealthy men—had devoted their time to pursuing the worst of the worst offenders, risking life and limb, and along the way usually falling in love. Or so it had been for the six members involved in the latest mission, as Darin had explained to her earlier.

  Darin had also explained that it was Natalie who had shown up in the local diner with a brand-new baby and no memory of where she had been or where she was going. Travis’s baby, as it had turned out, bringing the couple back together again, this time for all time. Ryan and Carrie—Travis’s little sister—had known each other for years but it wasn’t until the nasty Roman Birkenfeld entered the picture and kidnapped Carrie that they’d acknowledged their feelings ran deeper than mere affection. Two wonderful love stories, but as far as Fiona was concerned, neither topped hers and Darin’s—a mistaken identity, knife wounds and a deadly doctor in drag. Or at least none were quite as off-the-wall.

  Darin guided Fiona to the cake table where wedding parties were now standing, the grooms mugging for the camera while the brides stood by, feigning impatience when they weren’t laughing. Fiona had met the other three couples now approaching the table—Alexander Kent and his wife, Stephanie, Clint and Tara Andover and David and Marissa Sorrenson, all newlyweds, same as Fiona and Darin.

  The wives exchanged greetings and smiles; the men exchanged handshakes and innuendo. Fiona had experienced nothing but kindness since her arrival in Royal, and she looked forward to building a future here with her exceptional, supersexy husband.

  Travis raised his glass of champagne while the attendees gathered round to hear the toast. “To health, happiness and love,” he said as he gazed at Natalie, who wore the most beautiful cap-sleeved lace dress that enhanced the soft tone of her olive complexion.

  “Here, here,” Ryan added as he looked with love at Carrie, whose hair was almost the same color as Fiona’s, her satin, strapless gown a soft shade of champagne. “And to headstrong women who are hell-bent to keep us in line. May they all succeed.”

  The crowd laughed and applauded their approval while David grabbed the microphone from Travis before he could say anything else. “Since this is such a damn happy day, I need to make an announcement.” He hugged Marissa to his side and gave her a devastating smile. “We’re going to have a baby.”

  The attendees began to applaud when Travis snatched the microphone from David and lifted a hand to silence them. “So as not to be outdone by my friend here, Natalie’s pregnant again, too.”

  Fertility ran amok, Fiona thought with a smile.

  More cheers rose from the crowd, and a lot of back slapping ensued. Darin circled his arms around Fiona from behind and pulled her against him, bending his head until his warm lips rested at her ear. “Are you ready to leave now?”

  Fiona looked back at him and saw the familiar fire in his eyes. “Wouldn’t that be rude? We haven’t been here that long.”


  He slid his palm down the side of the coral satin gown, over the curve of her hip then back up again to her waist. “True, but this dress has turned my thoughts to another kind of celebration where we are not in need of clothing.”

  “But you look so handsome in your tux.” And he did, so handsome that she wanted to find a back room and show him exactly how much she appreciated it. However, she didn’t dare tell him that or he would have her out of there, lickety-split, in search of a broom closet.

  “I would prefer to remove our clothing soon. Perhaps we should find somewhere on the premises to do that very thing.”

  Mind reader. “You’re very wicked, Sheikh Shakir. We’ve already spent so much time holed up in our room at the Royalton Hotel, what would people think if we slip away now for a little horizontal mambo in the bathroom?”

  He brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck. “They would think that I am a very wise man.”

  “And virile,” she added when he pressed against her, letting her know loud and very clear that he was up for the challenge. “So just keep your pants on until we have some place safe to put them.”

  He turned her around to face him. “Some place safe?”

  She grinned. “Never mind.”

  His expression went oddly somber. “Are you happy, Fiona?”

  “Very.”

  “You have no regrets?”

  “Only one.”

  Concern darkened his eyes, made Fiona melt inside. “Then tell me. I will do everything in my power to give you whatever you need.”

  She circled her arms around his waist, not caring who was watching their public display of affection. “I regret that I wasted all morning picking out wallpaper for the inn’s lobby instead of keeping you in bed until noon.”

  His expression softened with relief. “There is always tonight.”

  “And tomorrow we leave for our honeymoon.”

  “An adventure in Paris.”

  “If you can convince me to get on that plane.”

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.