Barakaa surged forward and grabbed her by both wrists, holding them tightly, knowing that she’d have bruises there tomorrow and not giving a damn. Fairuza had insulted both his honor and Trudy, and that was over the line. She had to listen to him. He was the sheikh, damn it.
“And I know so many of your secrets too, my dear,” he said, his face inches from hers. “I hope you like the demotion, Fairuza, and next time learn when to hold your tongue and when to stay your hand.”
She tried to pull away from him but he held her tight. “Sheikh Tahan, then, you’re still a fool for trying to pursue an American. As a sheikh of Dubai, you owe your people more than that, more than a naïve infidel child.”
“Now you worry? I’m touched,” he said, releasing her and not feeling any upset in the least as she stumbled backward. “I am sheikh, so that means both the company and Dubai will accept what I decree. I may not yet know what I want with Trudy Yoder.”
“Oh, believe me, you do. I can see it in your face, feel it in the way even I, on my own, couldn’t arouse you.”
“Fine,” he said, stalking over to the main door of his penthouse. “I may be feeling many things tonight, Fairuza, but none of it is attraction for you. None of it is a desire for the same old, same old. I may want many things, but none of them are you. In fact,” he said, waiting to reply as she slipped through the door way. “It will never be you.”
Chapter Four
“You’ve been quiet today,” Sheikh Tahan said as they walked through the drill site.
Now that the papers had been signed, her boss had been free to start laying the pipe for his newest well. Trudy was shocked at first with how fast things had been assembled. Then again, she was beginning to truly understand what being both a billionaire tycoon and a sheikh meant. Now that the legalities had been settled—no thanks to her—Sheikh Tahan was moving forward with dozens of workers. She guessed they were probably all lined up months in advance. After all, who would say no to a sheikh of Dubai and one of the wealthiest men in an already affluent land?
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she said, making the mistake of looking into his eyes.
Trudy forced her gaze away as fast as she could.
Seeing those compelling hazel depths made her remember the shower last night, about the things her basest nature wanted her to do. But in the light of day and after some very odd scowling from Mr. Kaiyam’s chief secretary—was it Fairuza?—she’d come to her senses. There was desire, sure, but that wasn’t what mattered. She’d beaten out hundreds of the best and brightest petroleum engineers all over the planet for this position. It would be insane to risk that now, to sit through more water cooler gossip. Fairuza or Faruka, whatever her name was, hadn’t actually said anything, but she had stared very pointedly at Trudy when she’d left for the site with Sheikh Tahan.
It unnerved her, as if she were a window the other woman could see right through.
What would people think? Would they laugh in my face and tell me that the only reason I even had the internship was because of who I was sleeping with?
Which was crazy since she’d never actually slept with anyone. She’d been waiting for a man to capture her heart; those prudish lessons she’d resented in childhood still had their hooks through her soul. Everyone always talked about Catholic guilt, but the Amish had their own fool proof ways to make sure you feared the fires of damnation. Trudy wasn’t sure what she believed anymore, but she did know that she was scared to jump into anything, that she still viewed her virginity as a precious gift.
Could Sheikh Tahan be the right one?
How could he be when being with him could ruin everything she’d worked for in her career?
“Miss Yoder…Trudy,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. It was such a sweet, familiar gesture, that she almost jumped back at the touch. Trudy simply hadn’t been expecting that. Those hazel eyes studied her and, finally, Sheikh Tahan nodded back at her. “While it’s true that I have expectations for everyone who serves me, I don’t want you to merely be a puppet. There’s a spark deep down in you. I saw it that first day and I saw it again when you resisted me in the alley yesterday.”
Trudy sighed and pulled away. She’d have walked farther ahead to catch up with Mr. Kaiyam, but that strong hand was on her shoulder again.
Right, “my sheikh” isn’t used to hearing the word no very often, is he?
Well tough. Trudy wasn’t going to ruin her reputation for her hormones. She was more disciplined than that, damn it.
“Then why did you keep me. I basically ruined the dinner yesterday.”
He quirked his lip back at her, as if it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Spreading his arms out wide, he pointed to the construction equipment all around them, including the massive crane laying down thick pipes. “I don’t think anything was ruined. Yes, I had to smooth things over, but perhaps I want you for other motives.”
“You mean, if you weren’t interested in me sexually, I’d have been on a plane back to the United States by now, don’t you?”
“I mean that you’re an interesting contradiction of characteristics, and you’re definitely intriguing to me. So few women resist me at all.”
“I suppose,” she said, straightening her chin and glaring up at him. “But you know, not every woman falls to her knees because some rich guy beckons to her.”
“Often in Dubai they do, once they hear the Tahan family name,” he said, reaching up and stroking her cheek. “But that’s too distant for us, Trudy,” he finished, purring out that last word.
She both hated and loved the way he said her name, like it was a dirty word. It made her shiver and wetness start to pool between her legs, and already she was back to her dreams last night and the orgasm that had rocked her body simply from thinking of Sheikh Tahan.
“Is it?” she asked, her voice wavering as surely as her resolve.
“Yes, you may call me Barakaa, Trudy. Isn’t that better, after all?”
Swallowing, she pulled away from him and hurried after Mr. Kaiyam as quickly as her flats would allow. Her hurry made her helmet shift on her skull, and she had to adjust the construction helmet as it slid around on her head. It was good that she did because in her haste to avoid more questions from Sheikh Tahan…from Barakaa…she’d wandered close to the crane. Technically there were other board members milling about, but she was glad she had her helmet situated tightly over her scalp. She’d rarely felt more tiny and insignificant in her life than she did then, watching the massive lead piping be lifted over her head. As she watched, the humongous tube of metal swayed in the air and then, to her horror, the wire suspending it snapped from the strain of its weight.
Screaming, Trudy tried to make herself move, but her flight or fight instinct had settled on startle instead. While most of her life flashed before her eyes, which was painfully devoid of anything exciting, mostly farmland and dank library dungeons, she couldn’t get her legs in gear.
God, this is it.
Then, she was shoved to the ground. Looking up, she assumed that one of the drill team crew had rushed forward and saved her. Instead, she’d never been more glad to look up into the hazel eyes and fine cheek bones of Barakaa. He was panting over her and she was aware of the heft of his broad body and the scent of his own musk as sweat pooled on his forehead. Clearly, he’d made one hell of a sprint to save her from certain death.
“I…thank you,” she said, realizing then how close their lips were to each other.
Again it would be so easy. Would people even blame me if the boss literally saved my life?
He reached down and stroked her blond locks back from her face. His hand was callused and she wondered if he had hobbies—like horseback riding or something else that roughened his hands. With money like his, using his body and his hands was a choice, a novelty. He’d never had to churn butter until they blistered and bled. How odd that life must have been, to be so pampered, but choose to do the hard work as well.
�
�Are you all right, Trudy? Are you going to be okay, kitten?”
That was like having a bucket of cold water splashed over her neck. She knew that this wasn’t the time or place for anything, and that they really weren’t close to a first name basis, no matter what he offered. She certainly wasn’t his kitten or any other type of pet.
“Please, can you help me up?” she asked, painfully aware of all the crew gathered around them, shouting excitedly in Arabic. Off behind Barakaa’s left shoulder, she even spied Mr. Kaiyam with an indecipherable look on his face; he looked as mysterious as the secrets the sphinx held. “I just…I think I need to go back to the office and get some water in me.”
Barakaa rolled off of her and then offered his hand again. “At least let me help you to your feet. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t?”
Isn’t that the question? Weren’t you offering to “train” me yesterday? I don’t even know what you’d train me for or what things you’d teach me, but my imagination has been running wild since.
“Of course,” she replied, not wanting to make even more of a scene in front of the gathering crowd. “Mr. Kaiyam, can you help me get back to Tahan Towers? I just need catch my breath.”
The older man smiled, she could see his pudgy face dimpling even through the stray hairs of his beard. “Miss Yoder, allow me to help you. I’m so very sorry we had this accident.”
Barakaa clenched his jaw, glared at the crane operator, and lit into him with a fierce torrent of Arabic. She could follow some of it, but it was so very fast and nothing like she’d practiced with shopkeepers or heard in class. Based on how red Barakaa’s face was growing, Trudy was certain that he was saying things that you couldn’t repeat in polite company, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure.
“Miss Yoder, shall we go?” Mr. Kaiyam inquired.
She nodded and looped her arm through his crooked elbow. Her head swam a bit from where it had hit the dirt; maybe they should stop by a clinic just to be sure she wasn’t struggling with a concussion. “Thank you.”
“No, my dear,” the kindly older man said. “Forgive us all. We never should have let harm even come close to you.”
Sighing, she looked back at Barakaa and then into Mr. Kaiyam’s knowing eyes. “Maybe harm’s already here. I’m not even scared about my head, just my heart.”
He squeezed her forearm as they made their way back to one of the chauffeured cars. “I’ll make you a deal, Miss Yoder. I’ll worry about your heart, and you can worry about your head as we get a few tests.”
“You will?”
Nodding, he stepped back from her long enough to open the town car’s door. “I promise you that Sheikh Tahan is a good man, and that there’s so much more to him than you’re letting yourself see.”
“I…is it that obvious?” she asked, easing her way onto the bench seat in the back of the car. Biting her lip, she wrung her hands as well. “I’m not like this normally; I swear.”
“No, but I’ve known Sheikh Tahan a long time, and I know when he’s taken with someone.”
“Sure, and he’s bragged that many women are taken with him,” she said, her voice a reedy whisper as the car started and Mr. Kaiyam ordered their driver forward. “I don’t think I want to be thought of as a groupie or a flavor of the week.”
“I saw how he looked at you. If he wanted you in that way, he’d have bribed you, offered your jewelry first thing this morning, tried to promise you every advantage that comes from dating a Dubaian sheikh,” Mr. Kaiyam said.
“Well, no one’s handed me a contract and told me where to sign.”
“No one does that,” he said, laughing. “Wherever would you get that idea from?”
Her cheeks flushed and she was sure she was fire hydrant red. There was no way she could explain some of the more interesting books her cousin had gotten her for her trip abroad in case Dubai didn’t offer enough reading material. “Nothing.”
“I’m sure,” the older man said, smiling. “Anyway, he’s intrigued with you because a woman of principles is new for him, but he does care about you. He saved your life, and he trusts that you can grow in the company. Those are huge things, especially in so fast a time.”
She nodded and leaned back in the cushy leather of the seat. “But what would people say? I can’t have everyone here and then back home thinking I slept my way to the top.”
“I doubt they would say that, but even if there was gossip, would it matter? You would be happy…both of you would be happy.”
Sighing, Trudy rubbed at her sore temples. “But I’ve already been shunned once. I don’t think I have the strength to do it again.”
* * *
His blood was boiling.
Not from rage, although he wasn’t unfamiliar with that feeling either. No, he was brimming over with gnawing hunger and need for Trudy. Today had been a roller coaster of emotions. First, he’d been close to getting her to admit that there was potential for them, then been slighted again by her rushing off like a scared rabbit. The next moment was forever burned into his brain, when he’d seen the pipes falling toward her, the massive hunks of metal descending quickly to crush her. Part of him hadn’t been sure at all he’d be able to save her, and he’d had a terrible flash through his mind of her crushed. But then he had been fast enough and felt her body—so warm and soft—under his own.
He wanted her, but she’d scurried off with Omar.
Perhaps his assistant could help talk some sense into her. There was a deep attraction there, something more interesting than anything he’d had before. She was such a curious mix of timid and yet bold; she’d stand up for herself and her reputation, yet run from her passions. If only she would have come with him, if only he could have convinced her to come with him.
Now he eased into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. It had been a long day, and he’d been dealing with insurance company representatives and then cursing out Sayed for his incompetence in operating the crane. He’d run his company for over a decade yet he’d never had as much pleasure firing someone as he had with Sayed. That moron was lucky he hadn’t had him banished from Dubai, period. As it was, Sayed would wish he had been. Barakaa had wasted no time having his assistants contact every builder and construction company, anywhere that might conceivably need a crane operator. Rarely had a man been so thoroughly blacklisted as with Sayed, but the man deserved it.
Hell, he deserved to have his head ripped from his shoulders for endangering anyone at a Tahan Oil Subsidiaries site, let alone Trudy.
Trudy. She was so far away, but damn if he couldn’t keep himself from thinking of her.
Of course, why did he have to?
Smiling to himself, Barakaa walked through the moonlight pouring into his room and reached his drawer. Inside was the lube, exactly what he’d wanted. It didn’t take long to divest himself of his clothes. Normally, he’d hang up his suits, considering they were hand sewn of the finest silk, but today was all about immediacy. He didn’t have Trudy in his arms, but he had the next best thing—his thoughts of her. After all, tomorrow he’d see her, and demand she give him a chance. He was the scion of one of the largest oil companies in the Middle East, as well as a sheikh. No woman refused him and his charms for long.
It just intrigued him that she’d held out as long as she had.
But he knew a lot about submission, and he’d have her in that position for him yet.
As for right now, he slipped his boxers off his hips and laid back against the coolness of his red silk sheets. Applying lube to his palm, Barakaa reached for his length as he closed his eyes. Of course he’d touched himself more times than he could count, but this was different. He was thinking of Trudy, of those slim and pale hands and those delicate fingers encircling his member. As he began to rub, letting the friction grow, feeling the way his member jerked in response to his touch, Barakaa visualized what it would have been like to have Trudy caressing him so intimately.
It would be—no will be—a lovely
sight.
Once he has her at his mercy, they’ll do this every night and all damn day.
For now, though, in his mind’s eye it was Trudy’s hands on him, stroking his length, and now her other hand cupping his testicles, massaging them between her thumb and forefinger. It was her on her knees before him, her grin devilish and promising.
Soon, my kitten, soon I’ll be thrusting into that pretty mouth of yours.
His hands were slow and steady, and it was a struggle to keep a strong rhythm. His blood had gone up what seemed like hundreds of degrees in his veins and he could feel the sweat pouring down his brow. This was what she did to him, the urgency she pushed through him. Trudy Yoder had gotten under his skin and into his very muscles and cells. But he didn’t want this to be over too quickly…although, considering how quickly he grew hard just thinking of her, Barakaa was sure that he’d be jerking off more than once tonight.
Those indigo eyes, so alluring and singular.
That Cupid’s bow mouth.
That hair like spun gold.
She was so different from Fairuza, from all the women he’d screwed before, but maybe that was part of it too. Trudy Yoder was many things, but she wasn’t going to just be a quick fuck. That wasn’t what he wanted with her. He wanted to take her in, teach her all he knew, but also hold her tightly and never let her go.
She was compelling and haunting and so many things he’d been craving in life and hadn’t even known he had until she came into his life.
His balls grew tight and his breathing was rapid and fluttery, the heat was an inferno all over his body, and even with his extreme control, Barakaa knew he could no longer hold back. He came then, feeling the spasms of pleasure erupt all over his body, leaving his arms and legs feeling like Jell-O.
Wiping everything off in the bathroom, Barakaa was almost ready to crash to sleep. Eye closed, he was hovering between consciousness and slumber when his cell rang. Grumbling to himself, he reached over and took the call:
“This better be beyond urgent.”
The Sheikh's Forbidden Mistress Page 4