Seduced by a Stranger

by Brenda Jackson

  The scent of her perfume hung in the air, tantalized his nostrils, and made him wonder about things that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the right to think of them, because he did. He just preferred not doing so at the moment. It was taking all his willpower to keep his mind on the fact that she was not just any woman he wanted in his bed. She was the woman who had been chosen to share his name, take his seed into her body and bear his children.

  He couldn’t argue with the fact that she was a puzzle, one he didn’t necessarily need to figure out since he understood her motive in doing what she’d done. He had rebelled once or twice in his lifetime. But although he might understand her actions, it didn’t necessarily mean he agreed with them. The reason he saw her as a puzzle was because there were so many things about her that should not be affecting him, yet they were and he needed to know why.

  Such as, why did the thought of tasting her lips, feasting on them in a way that would brand them totally his, fill him with such emotion and intensity? Why did inhaling her perfume want to make him strip her naked, and why did the feel of her in his arms tempt him to do more than just dance with her?

  With his chin resting on the crown of her head, he closed his eyes as their bodies began swaying in time to the music. The slow beat of the song was vastly different from the fast-paced one of earlier. But this rhythm was what he needed right now. He needed to know how well they fit together, how so much blatant, raw sensuality floated from within her while at the same time she was shrouded with such an angelical air.

  He couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face at the thought of her having even one strand of an angelic hair on her head, especially after that hip-shaking, body-rolling dance she’d done. And her determination to have fun at any cost, even at the risk of angering her family and a fiancé, would also put her angelic status at risk.

  Rasheed opened his eyes at the same moment that he drew in a ragged breath. Her cheek was resting against his chest and it felt warm, at home, and so right. Knowing if they remained in this same spot too much longer there would be no way he could control his desire for her, he increased their movements when the tempo of the music picked up somewhat. He pulled away from her slightly to waltz her around the dance floor when the rhythm smoothly advanced.

  She laughed at the unexpected move and he savored the sound of her laughter in a way that obliterated all thoughts from his mind except one. And when the music made another transition, one that returned to the ultraslow beat of before, he tightened his hold on her hand and pulled her back to him, back into his arms, close to his body.

  She gasped when she detected his aroused state but there was no way he would apologize for it. No, he was fighting everything within him to stay in control of the situation where she not only looked but also felt utterly compelling.

  His gaze drifted downward to her mouth and those lips that he longed to taste. They had the ability to make him lose his breath just from looking at them and were sending a rush of heated desire through every part of his body. And when the music finally drifted to an end, a surge of sensuous sensations shattered within him and it was too late to even consider stopping what he was about to do.

  He lowered his mouth to hers, fully convinced that, as her fiancé, he had every right to do so. And when his lips touched hers, when he felt how they quivered beneath his, when he was introduced to her taste and sensed her innocence, he no longer saw it as a right but as a privilege.

  Rasheed wanted to believe that his longer-than-usual drought without sex was the reason he was latching onto her mouth like a man starving to taste the sweetness of her lips, to mate hungrily with her tongue, brand it, introduce his to hers. But he knew the moment he inserted his tongue into her mouth, immediately caught hold of hers and began sucking gently, that he would claim whatever excuse was out there. And when he heard a moan from deep in her throat, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer to absorb her warmth, accept her sensuality and make known—as much as he could and only to himself—that she was his. Totally. Irrevocably. Absolutely.

  And his tongue, the one that was licking and tasting every corner of her mouth in heated bliss and slow, deliberate exploration, was boldly staking a claim at the same time as it was giving her an introduction. It was hers, the only male tongue that would ever go inside her mouth, and he wanted her to get used to it. Its daringness, its heat and its texture. His tongue could be rather tender at times, raunchy and brash at others. And on its really naughty days his tongue, she would discover, could steal the very breath from her body and make her whimper with a need that only he would be able to satisfy. And more often than not, his tongue had a mind of its own. A mind to please with an intent to deliver.

  Knowing he could stand there and kiss her all night, ply her lips until her mouth was tender, he forced himself to pull back, pull away. The disappointment on her face when he did so was simply priceless.

  She was gazing up at him with astonishment and then he watched as she drew in a ragged breath as the magnitude and the power of what they’d just shared threatened to overcome her. When she began shivering he reached out and pulled her closer into his arms.

  This was the woman he had looked upon marrying with disdain, and with a degree of regret that made him inconsolable. When his father had summoned him to the palace and said he wanted him to be wedded by his fortieth birthday, which meant he would have to take her as a wife by the end of the year, it seemed he would finally become the ultimate sacrifice for Mowaiti.

  He was a man who had been single a long time. He was set in his ways and he enjoyed women. Experienced women. And the very thought that he would have to marry a woman who was young, inexperienced and didn’t possess any of the skills and aptitudes on the ways to please a man had nearly driven him into a depressed state.

  His life, as he’d known it, was taking a turn for what he considered the worse. He had left the country to visit Whispering Pines, the huge ranch in Texas owned by his good friend and occasional business partner, Jake Madaris. Rasheed had needed the time alone to accept the changes that would take place in his life and had stayed in seclusion at Whispering Pines for a little more than a week.

  He glanced down at Johari and pulled in a deep breath, not certain as to what to say now. This was not supposed to be happening to a man of his stature, distinction and eminence. His reaction to a fiancée, one who had been promised to him for twenty-four years, baffled him. He was well aware that some men thought highly of their wives, some even fancied themselves in love, but he knew such a thing wasn’t possible for him.

  He had no intention of ever truly settling down with one woman or falling in love with one for that matter. Such a thing was not even a consideration. He enjoyed his mistresses immensely. He liked the attention they gave him, the pleasure they delivered to him. He was hard-pressed to believe one woman was capable of replacing all of that…no matter how sweet her lips tasted.

  What he needed to do, and what he would do, was to focus mainly on seducing Johari to his will. She would discover that he was a force to be reckoned with, and a defiant, rebellious, wild and reckless wife was one that he would not tolerate.

  He shifted his attention back to her when she slowly pushed out of his arms, tilted her head back and looked at him. He saw the considering frown settle first on her forehead before slowly moving down her face then to her lips. Lips he had just thoroughly kissed. Intimately claimed.

  “We should not have done that, Monty.”

  Her words, spoken in a soft, panic-filled voice, gave him pause. “And why not?” He wondered if she had failed to notice that although she had taken a step back, his arms remained wrapped around her waist in a very possessive hold.

  She stared at the buttons on his jacket before lifting her gaze back to him. “Because I am promised to another.”

  His brow lifted in mock surprise. “You’re engaged?”

  “Yes.”

  He freed one hand from around her waist to l
ift her hand. After glancing at it, he looked back at her. “No ring?”

  “In my country such a thing isn’t needed.”

  “Maybe it should be,” he decided to say. “In this country unless a woman wears some visible sign of a man’s intent, she is not off-limits.”

  “But that is not how things are where I am from.”

  “And where are you from, Jo? You never did say,” he countered.

  She shivered again just seconds before saying, “And I can’t say. It matters not.”

  Her eyes once again returned to the buttons on his jacket, but this time he reached and lifted her chin so their eyes could meet. “Keep your secrets, just as long as you know that no matter how much you might regret kissing me, I don’t regret kissing you.”

  He then checked his watch. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand and holding it firmly. “I need to get you back to Club Chandler before Cel summons the NYPD.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “Have breakfast with me in the morning, Jo.”

  Johari glanced over at Monty. He was standing with his back against the wall in the elevator that was returning them to Club Chandler.

  “I don’t think that is wise,” she said in a low voice. She wondered if he’d been able to tell that the kiss they had shared moments ago had been her first. She also wondered if all men kissed that way—with an ability to demolish a woman’s senses, make them want to explode from the heat of passion. Her mouth still tingled from his intense kiss, and she could swear their lips had produced fiery sparks.

  “If you’re nervous about being alone with me, then let’s invite Cel to dine with us.”

  His words pulled her thoughts back in and she shook her head. “That’s not it, Monty. If I were nervous about being alone with you I wouldn’t be alone with you now. And as far as Cel being invited, that’s not possible because she is flying out in the morning.”

  He lifted a brow. “She’s leaving New York?”

  Too late Johari wondered if she’d said too much and figured if she had there was no way to retract it. “Yes. She’s meeting her boyfriend in Florida to go on a cruise to the Bahamas.”

  “So you will be here in this city alone?”

  Johari swallowed. She could say that she wouldn’t be alone, that her fiancé would be flying into the city to join her. But for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to do that. “Yes, I will be alone.”

  “So will I. Is there any reason we can’t spend tomorrow together?”

  A rush of sensations tore through her veins. She could think of several reasons and the way her body was reacting to his very presence was one of them, definitely topping the list. “I told you that I’m promised to someone.”

  “Yes, but I would think we can spend time together as just friends. Besides,” he said, drawing out of the shadows where he was leaning against the panel wall to come stand before her, “I would hate for you to miss out on experiencing more excitement before returning home. I have the ability to take you not only around this city but anywhere else you’d like to go in the world.”

  Johari tried downplaying her body’s reaction to his closeness as she attempted to take in what he’d just said. “Anywhere in the world?” she asked, looking at him with stunned eyes.

  “Yes. Because of my business I have a private plane.”

  She nodded. Her family owned several private planes and she frequently went with her parents on trips. But as usual they were accompanied by heavy guards and chaperones. There had never been a time when she was allowed to just go off and enjoy anything and anyplace by herself. The thought of doing so now was tempting.

  She doubted Monty knew just how tempting it was. She studied him, saw the darkness in his eyes, felt heat radiating from him, then she quickly concluded that maybe he did know. She wondered what he thought would be in it for him. What he would get out of spending time with her? It was quite obvious he was a man who had been around. A man used to certain things. Money. Women. Sex.

  “Why, Monty?” she decided to ask. “Why would you do that for me when you know there is nothing that I can do for you?” There, she’d asked, hoping she couldn’t have made things any plainer than that.

  “But there is something you can do for me. You can keep me company for as long as you can. You remind me of what it’s like to be carefree. You want to do something that I haven’t done in a long time and that is to just enjoy life.”

  He chuckled and said, “I’ve been told by a lot of people that I work too hard, don’t have enough downtime for myself.”

  Johari nodded. She could believe that. Her brother had been the same way until he’d decided to take a month off and do nothing. That was when he had met Delaney.

  She glanced up at Monty and decided to ask another question, one she’d been curious about since meeting him. “How old are you?”

  A curve of a smile touched his lips. “How old do you think I am?”

  She studied his features. His eyes, she thought, were full of intelligence way beyond whatever years she would guess. And she had reason to believe he possessed a razor-sharp mind. His features were magnificent, surpassed any woman’s fantasy, the substance of any woman’s dream. He was extremely handsome and didn’t look any older than Jamal, but then her brother carried his age of forty-two well. “Um, around thirty-five or thirty-six?” she finally said.

  He laughed. “I’m whatever age you want me to be. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

  She smiled. “You’re not curious as to my age?”

  “Not enough to ask. In this country a man knows better.”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle. “So I heard.”

  When the elevator came to a stop and the door opened, he took her hand as they stepped out into the hall. He turned to her. “So, will you meet me for breakfast in the morning around nine? There is a nice café on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Park. I will send my car for you. And then after breakfast we can start our day.”

  She gnawed on her bottom lip for a few moments. She didn’t want him to send his car for her because she was not ready to let him know where she was staying. Succumbing to the desire to see him again, spend time with him, she nodded. “Yes, but I will take a cab and meet you there. And please don’t mention anything in front of Cel. She would worry.”

  He gave her a satisfied smile. “I promise not to say a word.”

  Relief rippled through her. She didn’t want Cel to not enjoy her cruise for agonizing over Johari’s safety. “There is another promise I’d like you to make if we are to spend tomorrow together.”

  “What promise is that?”

  “You will remember that I have a fiancé.”

  A smile touched his lips. “Although I wish I could forget, I promise that I will not.”

  * * *

  Two hours later Rasheed was back in his condo and reliving in his mind all that had transpired that night. He and Johari had returned to the club to find it was still in full swing.

  Cel had eyed him suspiciously but hadn’t asked either of them any questions. And less than an hour later, she and Johari had thanked him for such a wonderful time but felt it was time for them to leave. He had offered to let his driver take them to their hotel, but they had declined. He had, however, made sure they had gotten safely in a cab. Once the yellow taxi had pulled away from the curb he had nodded to the driver in the dark-colored car who’d automatically followed close behind.

  Shoving his hands into his pants pockets, he walked outside on the balcony, the same one Johari had danced on earlier. Moving closer to the very spot where she’d stood, where she had danced, he glanced around. He could still feel her presence as well as the heat she had left behind. Then there was her lingering scent. It was her scent that was gripping him, inside and out, making him remember how sexy she had looked in that dress and how well the material had fit her curves. And it was that dress, her scent, along with the memory of her taste that had him looking forward to seeing her in the morning.
r />   Her taste.

  It was as if his tongue had known her. Had been waiting. Had gotten possessive. And had greedily taken. He considered himself a very skillful kisser, but the first taste of her had nearly snatched his senses, rendered him mindless. And when she had touched her tongue to his, not sure if it was the proper thing to do, exposing her lack of experience, he’d been fascinated beyond belief in knowing that had been her first kiss.

  And when he’d angled his head and deepened the kiss, every bone in his body shared in the pleasurable experience. And not once did she resist. She had returned the kiss, as best she knew how, and instead of boring him, her inexperience plunged him into a world filled with so much passion and pleasure, the concept of her being able to accomplish such a feat was still wearing on his brain.

  He drew in a calming breath when he thought of the phone call he’d received moments ago to say that Johari and Cel had arrived at their destination safely.

  Turning, he walked back inside the condo. It was late and time for him to take a shower and go to bed. Things had been rather interesting tonight and he looked forward to seeing Johari for breakfast in the morning.

  * * *

  Johari eased out of bed, hoping the noise would not awaken Celine. In bare feet she slid open the glass door to walk out onto the balcony. After she had slid the door shut behind her, she looked around, thinking this balcony was nothing compared to the one she had been on earlier. The one she had danced on for Monty.

  Monty.

  She still didn’t know his age, since he’d been evasive about it, and then there was the question of his nationality. If he was American, and she leaned toward believing that he was because of his mastery of the English language, then he was of mixed ancestry, which was obvious with the shade of his skin. But then he could very well be of Greek, Italian or Turkish descent.

  She pulled in a deep breath. There was so much about him that she didn’t know.

  Likewise, there was a lot he didn’t know about her.