by Kristi Gold
"You just took about ten years off my life with that trick," Imogene said.
"This will give you the opportunity to learn the way a horse feels beneath you. And I will be here to guide you."
"I thought you said no one could touch him but you."
"For you I will make an exception." He slid his palms down her bare arms. "Take the reins in your hands as I showed you and attempt to relax. He will sense if you are nervous."
"I am nervous." And very needy in a not so bad way.
His warm breath played across her ear when he said, "You have no reason to be nervous. I am here to protect you. To teach you."
Imogene did as he asked, holding the leather in both hands as he'd shown her earlier. Frankly, right now, she would do anything he asked. "Is this okay?"
"Yes. Now hold on tightly with your legs."
Her muscles felt like mush, loose and uncooperative.
Raf slid his free hand down the side of her left thigh. "More. Harder."
When she envisioned saying the same thing to him during lovemaking, her heart pounded like a bongo in her chest. She tried to ignore Raf's hand on her thigh and concentrate on his directive, squeezing her legs against BáHar's sides. Against the heat gathering between them.
"That is better," he said. "Tap your heels slightly to cue him to move forward."
Remarkably, the horse answered her silent signal without hesitation, unlike Maurice, and took a few easy steps before picking up the pace, as if he really wanted to run.
"Talk to him," Raf murmured. "That will slow him."
"What am I supposed to say?"
"He responds to the word easy."
Imogene stared down on the horse's ears that twitched as if he waited for her command. "Easy."
"Say it more firmly."
"Easy," Imogene repeated, a little louder this time and amazingly, it worked.
They walked around the pen at a relaxed gait although Imogene couldn't claim she was all that relaxed. She wanted to lean back against Raf and close her eyes, enjoy the feel of him against her. Instead, she reluctantly tried to focus on the lesson.
"What now?" she asked.
"We will continue this way until you feel comfortable before we progress."
"Am I ever going to do something other than walk?"
"When you are ready."
Her breath caught in her chest when Raf's right hand slid down from her middle to her abdomen where he lightly stroked the terrain with his thumb. "Relax your hips and follow the horse's movement."
Imogene could only follow the movement of his fingertips stroking her belly. "Okay."
"If you wish to stop, then you must pull lightly on the reins. He has a very sensitive mouth."
"A sensitive mouth, huh?" She looked back over her shoulder, their faces so close she could see every detail of Raf's incredible lips. With little difficulty, she could even kiss him.
"You should try it," he said.
He was giving her permission? "I should?"
"You will see how simple it is to stop him."
Darn. He'd meant the horse.
Imogene pulled back on the reins and the stallion stopped. She cued him forward and he answered. She stopped him again then cued him forward again. "He's very well trained," she said. "Much more cooperative than Maurice today."
"You are doing well, Genie," Raf whispered. "Very well."
Unable to stop herself, Imogene leaned her head back against his shoulder. "Am I?" She sounded sluggish. She felt sluggish, boneless.
His cheek rested against hers as he worked his fingertips beneath the hem of her blouse, contacting her bare flesh. "You are catching on quickly."
"Then why are we only walking?" And why was she starting to tremble? Dumb question. Raf's touch made her shiver, made her want.
He traced the edge of the waistband of her breeches with a lazy fingertip, back and forth in a mind-melting rhythm. "As I've said, we are taking it slowly."
"I see." And she did see. She could also feel and want all those things she had put on the back burner because of her career. She longed for him to keep touching her, to soothe the ache that had everything to do with desire for a man. This man.
Raf continued to draw random designs on her stomach, breezing a fingertip right below the waistband, lower with each stroke. Her breath hitched painfully in her chest when she felt him toy with the clasp. Of course, she should put an end to this before he went any farther. She really should ask him what he was doing. She shouldn't want him to continue, but she did.
Abruptly he pulled his hand from beneath her blouse then the reins from her grasp. He brought BáHar to a stop before the gate and dismounted.
Imogene stared at him from her perch on the horse. "That's it?" Her tone carried the weight of her disappointment and frustration.
"Enough for one day."
He clasped Imogene's waist and pulled her from the horse, this time setting her aside before leading the stallion out of the pen without even a backward glance.
Imogene stood in the same spot for a time, annoyance seeping through her pores like the perspiration that had formed on her back where Raf's body had met hers. Annoyance because she still wanted him. Regret because she hadn't wanted it to end. And worse, he knew it. He also knew exactly what he was doing to her and what she wanted him to do. But he was determined to withhold his affections. Determined to seduce her into senselessness. And damn him, it was working.
Quickening her pace, she caught up with Raf in the barn as he handed the horse off to the man named Blaylock and told him, "Take BáHar and bathe him. Give him extra hay as a reward." The man hurried away with the horse without uttering a word. Obviously everyone bowed to Raf Shakir's every whim. If she wasn't careful, she would find herself among them.
Imogene leaned her shoulder against one stall while Raf took his shirt from the top of a grooming cart and slipped it on. "Don't I get some kind of reward for being a good student?"
He faced her with a smile that caught her totally off guard. "Actually, I have something to show you."
That sounded very promising. "What might that be?"
He nodded toward the stairs leading to the apartment. "Come with me."
Imogene wanted to skip behind him like a child, knowing that they would probably be alone. As she followed him up the stairs, once more she took in all the wonderful details of his body, and particularly his jean-clad butt.
He opened the door and allowed her inside first, then locked them in. Imogene chafed her arms, immediately noting a slight sting but she honestly didn't care. She was much too keyed up to find out what the sheikh had in mind to worry about the beginnings of a sunburn.
Raf opened the French doors to the office. "I want to discuss with you the business deal I mentioned earlier."
He wanted to talk business? Of course. After all, that's why she was here, what they both wanted. It did disappoint her, though, and she hated her sudden lack of good sense.
Imogene hesitated for a moment before she strolled into the office and took her place in front of the desk while Raf stood behind it. He opened a folder and slid it before her. "This is a list of interested parties who would be willing to buy shares in BáHar. They will split the proceeds from his breeding income if they participate. They will also share in the expense and be allotted two free breedings per year, as long as they bring high-quality mares."
She studied the names that looked like a list of Who's Who in Georgia society. "I recognize a few of these people. They all have big bucks. How much will they have to invest?"
"Each share will cost thirty thousand dollars. I intend to sell only twenty."
"He's worth that much?"
"More. I will retain my own shares as well."
"That sounds reasonable, but I've never been involved with anything like this before." She'd never been involved with anyone like him before, either. She felt uncharacteristically insecure on both counts. "Maybe you should ask someone who has done this kind of thin
g."
"I trust your judgment. And I would be willing to let your institution handle the details and the funds."
That would thrill Sid to death. She raised her eyes from the folder and contacted his unwavering gaze. "Just like that?"
"Yes. I believe you've earned the opportunity."
Wow. What a boon. She'd already earned Raf's business and she didn't even have to sleep with him. Darn it. "Okay. We can discuss the particulars while I'm here. And unless you're in a big hurry, I can set everything up next month, after I'm finished with my lessons and I return to work." Work. What a foul word.
Raf leaned over, palms braced on the desk, his open shirt giving Imogene an up-close view of his chest and flat belly. "As I've said, I am rarely in a hurry. Some endeavors are better served with patience."
"I guess that's best when it comes to the corporate world and riding lessons."
His eyes seemed to fade into black right before Imogene's eyes, prompting her pulse to race. "Other things are meant to be savored as well."
She shivered, but only slightly. "What other things?"
"Those not having to do with business."
Driven by a total lack of logic, Imogene leaned over the desk, as well, their hands almost touching, their faces only inches apart. "You know, I could use a few examples for clarity's sake."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, I am."
Circling her nape with one hand, he pulled her head closer and touched his lips to her brow. "This." He kissed her cheek softly. "This." He kissed each corner of her mouth. "And this."
Imogene decided it was a start. A really nice start. But he wasn't finished. Not even close.
This time he inclined his head and kissed her full on the mouth, making gentle, teasing passes with his tongue between her parted lips. Imogene experienced a wave of heat that started in her breasts and billowed all the way down to her knees, gathering like an electrical storm in intimate places. She wanted his arms around her, his body pressed against hers. She wanted to feel the dampness of his skin and the muscles against her palms as she ran them over his chest. She wanted the damn desk gone.
He increased the pressure with his mouth, deepened the kiss but only slightly. Yet it was enough to have Imogene considering climbing over the furniture and tackling him. Before she could do that, he ended the kiss and straightened.
"Doris serves dinner at seven," he said in a surprisingly formal tone considering their recent informal behavior. "I suggest you not be late, otherwise she will not serve you."
Dinner? Imogene pushed back from the desk and straightened her shirt, more out of nervousness than need. "So that's it?"
"Yes, since I do not know until I sit at the table what she will be serving."
"I'm not referring to dinner."
"I know." He turned away but not before Imogene caught a glimpse of his smile.
Blast him. "You're going to walk out of here now, like nothing ever happened between us?"
He faced her again, his fingers clutching the door handle. "What do you believe happened between us, Genie?"
"You kissed me and quite thoroughly, I might add."
"And I am certain it will not be the last time."
"You sound pretty confident about that."
"I am. And you know it will happen again, as well."
The man had way too much confidence—and charisma. "What if I don't want it to happen again?"
His eyes narrowed and a self-assured smile curled the corners of his sensuous mouth. "You have no choice."
Of all the chauvinistic comments. "I have no choice? Isn't that a little bit of an antiquated attitude? After all, this is the twenty-first century and I am entitled to my own choices and the say-so in regard to my own needs." She paused only to draw a quick breath. "In fact, I am quite in tune with my sexuality and what I want from a man and when and how I—"
He cut off her words with another kiss, this one so searing that Imogene was certain her straight hair had curled. Her body certainly had, right into his body where she could feel his strength, his heat, his hardness. All of it, including that "happy" part pressing against her pelvis when he cupped her bottom in his palms and nudged her forward. Sheikh Raf Shakir's mouth was as intoxicating as pricey champagne, going straight to Imogene's head until she truly thought she would to start swaying if he wasn't holding her so tightly. But all too soon he pulled away again.
Imogene pushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ears. "I suppose you did that to prove a point?"
"Actually, I have come to the conclusion that occupying your mouth could be the only means to silence you."
"And you think that's going to discourage me from speaking my mind?"
"No. But I will continue to silence you however I see fit."
Overcome with determination, Imogene ran a fingertip from his sternum to his navel, feeling his muscles clench beneath her touch. "I do believe the sheikh is not as in control as he pretends to be."
He caught her hand in his, turned it over and lifted her palm to his mouth for a kiss that ended with his tongue sliding over her wrist. "I can be very controlled, Genie, when I, too, want something badly enough."
Imogene did not want to feel hot. She did not want to feel excited. But darned if she wasn't both. "What is it that you want, Raf?"
"You."
That one word trapped her breath and sent her heart into a tailspin. "And you think you're going to have me, do you?"
"Yes. Eventually. But we will go slowly."
She really wanted hard and fast. "Slowly?"
"Yes. And I assure you it will be well worth your wait. And mine."
Raf left the room while Imogene lost the last of her composure and her ability to remain upright. She collapsed into the chair in the corner and released a shaky breath. He was going to make her wait, but for how long? Would it be wise for her to take the risk? And if she did, would it be worth it?
Oh, yeah. Imogene had no doubt about that. As long as she remembered they were two very different people who happened to be experiencing a little chemistry.
A little chemistry? She honestly thought she might explode every time he looked at her. But she had a busy life that didn't include a serious relationship with a man—even a gorgeous one—at this point in time. If they did happen to explore their mutual attraction, she would keep a tight grip on her control.
* * *
Raf was doubtful he could hold on to his control much longer. Yesterday in the apartment, Imogene Danforth had affected him more than any woman in years. Today during her lessons, she had distracted him on several occasions. And now, even watching her doing ordinary things such as sipping her water while waiting for their dinner, he could not ignore her.
Although he had wanted to carry Genie to the apartment's bedroom several times today, he had managed to restrain himself. But now, if circumstances were different, if they were alone and undisturbed, he would gladly pull her from her chair, take her out onto the nearby verandah and make love to her under the stars.
"Chow's here," Doris announced as she set a plate before Raf and a large steaming bowl before Imogene, who looked as though Doris had served her a treasure trove.
Genie's eyes widened with pleasure. "Low Country Boil. How did you know that's my favorite?"
Doris patted her back. "Sugar, good Georgia gals appreciate the South's delicacies." She sent Raf an acrimonious look. "Some transplants don't."
Raf nodded. "I appreciate you accommodating my questionable tastes, Doris."
She addressed Imogene without giving Raf a second glance. "He's picky. He likes chicken and this stew I make for him all the time. The same old thing, day in and day out. I can't even get him to eat corn bread, if you can imagine that."
Genie laid a hand above her breast and feigned shock. "That's pure blasphemy. Who doesn't like corn bread?"
"I, for one," Raf stated and concentrated on cutting his overly dry poultry. He would not be surprised if Doris had left the d
ish in the oven too long to prove her point.
Doris strolled past Raf and patted his back. "You two enjoy. I've left you plenty of napkins, Miss Danforth. I expect you to use every one."
"Believe me, I will," Genie said, followed by a laugh. "She's a riot, Raf. You're lucky to have her."
At times he would disagree. Right now he wished Doris would take her leave into the next county so that Raf could be alone with Genie. "She is a very hard worker, although I do question her cooking."
"I heard that," came from the direction of the kitchen.
"She also has the ability to hear from twenty meters away," he muttered.
Genie stuffed a napkin in the front of her coral blouse and proceeded to pick up a prawn. "Would you like one?" she offered.
He studied it with disdain. "I am not fond of shellfish."
With slow movements, Genie held up the shrimp and peeled it, sparking Raf's thoughts of peeling away her clothes. "Are you sure? They're really good."
"I will have to trust you on that since I have no desire to try them." Raf did have an overpowering urge to sample her, however. He tried to concentrate on his own food, taking a bite yet tasting nothing even though Doris, as usual, had coated the chicken with heavy spices. He was more interested in watching Imogene partake of her food as she dipped the prawn into the rich butter sauce accompanying the dish, inched the morsel into her mouth then licked the butter off her lower lip. Raf wished he could do the same. He could, but he did not dare. Doris was no doubt lurking around the corner, waiting to see if she would catch him doing something he should not, in her opinion, be doing.
"This is great," Genie said with the enthusiasm Raf hoped to see when he finally did make love with her. And he would. Soon.
"I am glad to know you are enjoying yourself," he said. He would eventually show her more enjoyment in ways she had only imagined.
Again she peeled another shrimp, even slower this time. "Like you've said, some things are meant to be savored."
Raf kept his attention on his own food although he did manage a glance at her now and then. Yet every time she licked her lips, licked her fingers, he grew exceedingly hard beneath the napkin positioned in his lap.