He pulled his BlackBerry out of his jacket when he felt it vibrate. “Yes?”
“Rasheed, this is Jake. I called to make sure everything was all right. I hadn’t talked to you since you had to leave Luke’s wedding unexpectedly.”
Rasheed smiled. Over the years Jake Madaris had become one of his closest and most trusted friends. The two were involved in many successful business ventures both in the United States and abroad. His circle of business contacts included men like Jake and Syntel Remington, wealthy oilmen, as well as a phenomenal woman by the name of Corinthians Avery Grant, whose skill and ability to find oil reserves had literally transformed Mowaiti from an impoverished country to one enjoying prosperity as one of the world’s leading oil producers. Together they proved to be a formidable team.
“Everything is fine, Jake. With Alex’s assistance Johari was found in New York,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “In fact I’m on my way to her hotel to pick her up. We’re dining together tonight.”
“So the two of you have officially met? She knows who you are?”
“Yes, we’ve met, but she does not know my true identity.”
Rasheed then told Jake of his decision to not reveal his identity to Johari. “And just so you and your family know,” Rasheed went on to add, “I’ll be using my Madaris name for a while.
“You’re an honorary member of our family, Rasheed. My family will always be grateful for how you interceded to keep Christy out of harm’s way, virtually saving her life.”
Rasheed remembered that incident and was glad things turned out the way they had. He and Jake talked for a few minutes longer and then they ended the call. As he tucked his BlackBerry back in his jacket, the driver pulled in front of Johari’s hotel. They had agreed to meet in the lobby and as soon as the car came to a stop and Ishaq had come around to open the door, Rasheed got out and swiftly walked into the hotel. He tried to ignore the fact that he was very anxious and excited about seeing Johari again.
* * *
Johari walked off the elevator and grinned when she saw Rasheed standing in the atrium. She was intensely aware of him as a man. There was something about seeing him standing there that stirred something deep inside of her. He gave off vibes that were powerful, dominant, so elemental male that she almost missed a step when she began walking toward him.
She recalled her naiveté as a young girl after being told of her future and the man she would share it with and how accepting she had been of the decision. It was a decision made by a grandfather who’d died only months after her birth. She had envisioned her husband-to-be would appear at some point in her life to assure her that as his wife he would love and protect her. That never happened.
It became obvious that although Sheikh Valdemon would obediently fulfill his grandfather’s wish as she was doing with hers, their life together would not be the storybook romance she desired. And now as she gazed upon the man she had met only two days ago, who would be the only man she would consider suitable, she knew her parents would never accept him in her life. Her brother Jamal had already stretched the limits by marrying a Western woman. And although King Yasir loved his American daughter-in-law dearly and cherished the two grandchildren she had given him, Johari knew that when it came to her, he expected her to marry the person she was promised to.
As Monty moved to meet her, his strides were sure and confident, and the look on his face told her, even with her limited knowledge of men, that he would be the kind of man who, if he ever fell in love, would love hard and be a protector for life as well as someone who could be adored and admired. She felt envious of the woman who would claim his heart. And from the number of women who were pausing with their full attention directed on Monty as he made his way across the room, she wasn’t the only one thinking that way.
When Monty reached her he took her hand in his and whispered, “Once again your beauty has taken my breath away, Jo.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that touched her lips from his words. “Thank you for the compliment, Monty. You look handsome, too.” She meant every single word and wondered if irresistible was his middle name. Mainly because he was that and more.
Holding firm to her hand, he led her from the hotel to the private car waiting out front. The New York night was abuzz with energy. Flashing bright lights, the sound of car horns and people conversing while walking on pavement, she had only been here for a few days but whenever she came out at night the sights and sounds simply amazed her. There was nothing quiet and slow about this place, and as she slid into the back seat of the waiting limo, she knew there was nothing quiet and slow about the man who slid into the seat behind her.
If things were different and this was an ordinary date, she would want to know everything about him, and would want to share everything about herself with him. But considering the circumstances surrounding her particular situation, she could not. She would accept that whatever time she had to share with him was limited.
The sights and sounds of the night no longer held her attention once the driver closed the door, locking them inside. The interior smelled of leather seats and a virile man. And the man who was still staring at her had a quizzical look in his eyes. She couldn’t determine if he was looking at her like she was a puzzle he wanted to figure out or a delicious morsel he wanted to eat.
“Do you always enjoy your trips to New York?” she asked, deciding she needed to say something. There was a lot of sexual chemistry flowing between them tonight. This was all new to her and she couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by it. As much as she talked about not wanting to marry an “older” man, it was an older man who had stirred feelings in her she had never felt before. Regretfully, it wasn’t the one whom her hand had been promised to for marriage. It was the older man sitting beside her in the car who was still holding her hand firmly in his.
“I do.” He paused and then said, “The media is all over the place tonight because a number of celebrities are in town for Sterling Hamilton’s movie premier. Instead of going someplace where we’ll get mistaken for some notable couple and get our photo plastered all over the newspaper in the morning, I thought that we might dine in my condo. I hope that is acceptable to you.”
Johari swallowed deeply. She didn’t want to think of the consequences if such a thing were to happen. It would definitely be a disaster for her as well as for her family. “Yes, it is acceptable,” she said, knowing she much preferred dining with him in seclusion.
She glanced over at him, remembering how things were when she had been in his condo before. They had shared a kiss that even now could stir sensations within her at the memory. And the thought of being alone with him again was almost more than she could handle.
She pushed any apprehensions from her mind. She had only a few days left before she would be leaving New York and going to another city she wanted to see in the United States. The key was not to remain in the same place too long.
She stared out the car window at the flashing signs, billboards and skyscrapers they passed, fascinated by the number of people moving briskly along the sidewalk toward their destinations. She glanced back over at Monty and saw his gaze was on her. For a long moment their eyes locked, and something that seemed more powerful than just sexual tension flowed between them. She watched his gaze darken, saw the way his pulse was beating at the base of his throat and noticed the slight movement of his lips. Although his action was subtle, it seemed to start something churning deep in the pit of her stomach.
She didn’t say anything, and neither did he. They just sat there and stared at each other while the air between them was electrified from an undeniable awareness of their physical attraction to one another.
Johari didn’t doubt for one moment that something turbulent and primitive was taking place between them. And as she continued to stare deep into his eyes, she began imagining all sorts of things. She wondered how it would feel for those same eyes to watch as she removed every stitch of her clothing, piece by piec
e. And as her gaze shifted downward again to his lips, she couldn’t help but remember just how those lips had felt on hers, how that tongue in his mouth could illicit pleasure that had her pulse racing at the memory.
She pulled in a deep breath, trying to control her reaction to him. She tried to think about her fiancé, the man she was to marry, but the only visual that formed in her mind was that of the man staring back at her.
She blinked, noticing his lips moved, and realized almost belatedly that he had spoken. “Excuse me, what did you say?” she asked, once she found her voice to do so.
“I said we’re here. At my place.”
She looked out the window and saw that they had arrived at Trump Towers. Surprisingly, the driver had already parked the car at the curb and was opening their door. All of that had happened while she had sat there staring at Monty like a woman who’d lost it.
She couldn’t help wondering if all women responded to him this way or whether it was her degree of inexperience that was bringing on these sorts of reactions.
Pushing all those thoughts from her mind, she climbed out the car still holding his hand. “I intend for you to have a marvelous time this evening, Jo.”
She glanced up into his eyes and her heart pounded. Her gaze shifted to the smile on his lips which looked devilishly sexy. She had a feeling Monty didn’t make promises he wouldn’t keep. And as much as she wanted to experience more exciting things, she had a feeling that his ideas of a marvelous time was something she might not be quite ready for.
* * *
Rasheed glanced over at Johari as he took a sip of his wine. They were seated across from each other at the dinner table and had been engaged in intense eye contact all night. It was as if they were saying with their eyes what their mouths refused to say. They wanted each other.
To be totally honest, he had a feeling Johari didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t want him to forget she was engaged to marry, yet he could read in her eyes a desire that could make his blood simmer.
She was a very beautiful and desirable woman, but he was discovering another side of her that she was slowly exposing to him. For years she had hidden behind the mask of being the perfect daughter of King Yasir and was never given the time or the chance to just be herself. For some reason he wanted to give her that time. Maybe then she would settle down and step into her role as his wife and accept the life they would share together.
“Of all the places you live, which one is your favorite, Monty?”
Her question pulled his thoughts back into focus mainly on her. He wished he could tell her Mowaiti was his favorite and that being around his people would always be special to him. But then over the years, in the United States, he had accumulated a number of friends he enjoyed visiting on occasion. And then there was his home on a secluded island between Brazil and Argentina near Rio de Janeiro.
“I commute to too many places to have what one could consider a favorite. However, I own a place in Brazil that I love to travel to and spend time there whenever I can.”
She did not need to know that Raul Santini, the man being tapped as Argentina’s next president, was a very good friend of his and a close friend of her brother, as well. As a teen Santini had also attended the private academy in France.
He leaned back in his chair. “Would you dance for me again tonight?”
He loved watching her move her lithe body and could vividly recall what seeing her on the dance floor—performing her mating dance—had done to him. Her eyes glimmered. “Are you sure that you want me to?”
“Yes, I am positive.”
She smiled brightly. “I love to dance.”
He figured as much, just as he assumed her dancing in public was probably frowned upon by her family. But he had no problem in her performing just for him. He watched as she pushed away from the table and he stood, as well. Taking his wineglass, he led her through his living room and then to the balcony.
The night air was warm, sensual; it pricked at the lust that had formed around his edges. The desire that was rousing his middle. Her scent added to the atmosphere and made him want her that much more.
He stood back and watched her slip out of her shoes before moving toward the console on the wall. The skirt she was wearing tonight was a little longer in length than her minidress so chances were he wouldn’t see as much thigh. But he believed what he didn’t see would tantalize just as much as what he did see.
When she indicated she was ready to begin, he flipped the switch for the music while taking another sip of his wine. She threw back her head as the upbeat tempo washed over her and then she began moving her body to the beat.
He stood there and watched as she once again danced to a different song but basically executed the same moves—one in particular that was calling out to him in a huge way. With every dip and roll she made, his lower body reacted accordingly. He was transfixed in place and knew that after they married, he would have her dance for him each and every night. Seeing the smile on her face, the laughter in her eyes, the sensuous movement of her body was simply priceless.
She closed her eyes, which he thought was a good thing. If she were to open them and look at him there was no way she would not detect the lust flickering in the depths of his eyes or the huge bulge behind his zipper. Neither was he trying to hide. Both were something she needed to get used to seeing if this was the type of dance she liked to perform. They were the kind that showed she was a woman who knew her body and was quite comfortable with using it to lure a mate.
Moments later when the tempo of the music slowed down, she paused to catch her breath. The timbre of her fast breathing exhilarated him even more. It was the same sound he would expect her to make after sharing a mind-blowing orgasm with him.
She opened her eyes and stared over at him. He met her gaze. Held it. At that moment something sizzled between them, something that he could no longer deny. With the ease of a man who knew exactly what he wanted, what he intended to do to get it, he placed his wineglass on the table and moved toward her. She had done something no other woman had done. She had stolen his soul.
Riotous curls framed her face and fell past her shoulders. Her hands were at her sides, her bare feet crossed at the ankles. From the look in her eyes he could tell she was nervous. Not fearful. Just nervous. He could also tell that she desired him and it wasn’t the desire of a young woman who didn’t know or recognize her feelings and emotions.
At that moment he knew he would have to rethink his reservations regarding the differences in their ages and her inability to pleasure him. She might be young but she was still a woman capable of handling him. Already she had successfully tied him in knots. None of his experienced mistresses had the ability to do that.
He came to a stop in front of her. “Do you know what type of dance you performed on the dance floor tonight and last night?” he asked.
She shrugged. “No, it’s just a dance I’ve watched others do.”
He nodded. “It’s a mating dance, Jo.”
Surprise lit her eyes. “A mating dance?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets or he would have been tempted to reach out for her. “Yes, a mating dance, and I’m answering the call.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know. It was not intentional.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m answering.”
She took a step back. “But you promised that you would not forget that I have a fiancé, Monty.”
He stared at her with a degree of restraint that surprised himself. “I haven’t forgotten, Jo. However, I intend to make sure that you do.”
CHAPTER 6
He was going to kiss her and instead of resisting when he began lowering his head, she leaned up on tiptoe and met him halfway.
The moment his lips whispered across hers, she felt something akin to pleasure creeping up in every part of her body, and when their mouths touched, her senses were overtaken and shattered. Immediately she dismissed the thought that she was promised to a
nother.
It started out as a slow, deep and gentle kiss with him placing fingertips on her cheeks as if getting to know the texture of her skin, the shape of her face and the sound of her breathing. She automatically responded to his tenderness as desire thrummed through her, inflicting every nerve, every limb and every muscle. Then in a move that made her moan, his tongue lashed out and began stroking hers in a way that enticed hers to join in the play. Working solely on instinct, she followed his lead while at the same time marveling in his taste.
A multitude of feelings and sensations rammed through her, making her whimper. And then when he angled his head and deepened the kiss she shuddered and became ensnarled in a degree of desire that stunned her, had her moaning deep in her throat. This kiss was just as thorough as the one last night, but he had thrown in an element that once again displayed his skill and mastery at seduction. Each stroke of his tongue increased her torment, while at the same time enticing her to keep her lips locked to his.
When the intensity of the kiss increased, certain parts of her mouth seemed sensitive yet hungry for his, and she wrapped her arms around his neck at the same time he tightened his arms around her waist to pull her closer. Instinctively or purposely, the move made her realize the degree of his desire for her when his engorged erection pressed hard against her, sending a tingling sensation at the juncture of her thighs.
Heat was pouring through her, entrapping her senses with every flick and lick of his tongue. A need, as sensual and primitive as it could get, raced along her nerve endings, became absorbed in her skin, and weakened her knees while wreaking havoc on all her body parts.
His kiss had gone from gentle to deep to outlandishly greedy, and his mouth became even more demanding, stirring every sensation embedded within her core. Her rational mind pushed at her to stop this madness, but something refused to let her do so. She was driven by passion instead of logical reasoning and accepted that this wasn’t madness at all but unadulterated gratification of a kind she’d never experienced before.
Seduced by a Stranger Page 6