Clare Connelly Pairs: Warming the Sheikh’s Bed & Love in the Fast Lane

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Clare Connelly Pairs: Warming the Sheikh’s Bed & Love in the Fast Lane Page 9

by Connelly , Clare


  “Wouldn’t you?”

  His dark eyes probed her face. “No. But I must, and so I do.” He shrugged. “It is a lot easier to make peace with such matters when you do not buck against them.”

  She nodded slowly. “I guess I’m not like you. I could never sacrifice my own happiness in the way you do.”

  “Do I seem unhappy?”

  She shook her head. “I guess I presume you must be. I would find this kind of life stifling.”

  “Why?”

  She traced an imaginary pattern over his arm. “I like to be by myself. I like to go where I want, when I want. I like to make a decision on the spur of the moment and act on it.”

  “I would find that kind of inconsistency unsatisfying.”

  “Then I guess it’s just as well we’ll be going our separate ways in ten days.”

  The number revealed more than their timeline; it showed that she was thinking in days of how long they had together.

  He smiled, despite the unease her words evoked. “What is this dinner you have arranged? I am hungry.”

  She was too, but not for dinner. He caught the look in her eyes and laughed deeply.

  “Do not tempt me. I am trying to be honourable.”

  “I liked it better when you were pushing me up against the wall.”

  He nodded. “Me too.” He stepped out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his hips. He reached for another and held it out. When Cassie stood, he surprised her by towelling her body dry all over. He was gentle and thorough. A lump formed in her throat at the unexpected kindness.

  He went to hang up the towel and then laughed. “Better to keep you covered, or I doubt I’ll make it two minutes into dinner.”

  She waited until he’d hooked the towel under her arms and then deliberately slid her fingers under the top and loosened it. She stepped out of it and walked with seductive tilt of her hips into the lounge area.

  Layth’s soft laugh followed her the whole way, sending goosebumps down her skin.

  He was more than surprised by her choice of dinner. “Burgers?”

  “And onion rings,” she said with grave import.

  He nodded seriously. “I see.”

  “And French fries and proper tomato sauce.”

  “A true gourmet, I can see.”

  She giggled. “I know, I probably should have ordered something appropriate for your royal tastebuds, but this truly is my favourite meal in the world. And you said to get what I wanted.”

  “It’s perfect,” he promised.

  “I used to work at a burger place. One of the oldest in Adelaide. It was an institution in the fifties, decked out like an American diner, with a juke box and vinyl booths and black and white tiles on the floor. We made the most amazing cheeseburgers. I guess I never got over my love affair for them.”

  He resisted the urge to probe too obviously. “What makes a burger the most amazing cheeseburger?”

  “Hmm, an excellent question.”

  He sat on one of the chairs, and she arranged his burger and fries on a plate. She shunned the seat beside him, and instead settled on his lap. “It has to have the right kind of burger – not too thick, nor too thin. The cheese should be proper cheese, not plastic. Enough diced onions to give it kick, but not so many it’s overpowering. Pickle. It’s an art form. Truly, it is.” She picked up his burger and held it in front of his mouth. “Taste it.”

  His eyes held hers as he bit down on the creation. It was good, but he could barely focus on anything with the seductive, naked form of Cassandra Walton on his thighs, with only a flimsy towel between them.

  She smiled with such pride it made his gut twist. “I hoped you’d like it. You do like it?”

  “Yes,” he said, just because she wanted to hear it. “How long did you work at this burger emporium for?”

  “Burger emporium?” She laughed. “A few years. It was my first job.”

  “It’s a long way from that to famed art agent.”

  She looked at him in surprise and he shrugged. “I had you looked up. You have an impressive reputation. You are highly sought for what you do.”

  She nodded, not sure what to make of his investigation into her.

  “So what led to your new career?”

  “A girl can’t flip burgers forever, you know,” she said with a small smile.

  “And art? It has always been a passion for you?”

  “Not until I came to stay with Aunt Jude.”

  “Your mother’s sister?”

  “No. My father’s.”

  “She’s an artist?”

  “Hardly. But she’s a Countess. With an enormous, gloriously furnished and decorated castle on the border of England and Wales. I hadn’t realised until I moved in with her that I love beautiful things.” She ran a finger down his face, thinking that he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “I don’t care what era the piece is from. I don’t care if it’s bright or pastel, a still life or a portrait, or modern interpretive work. I just care that it works.”

  “And you have a sense for that.”

  “Yes, I guess I do.”

  “Are you close to this Countess Aunt?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. She’s a character and a half though.”

  “Reminds me of someone I know.”

  She shook her head. “Trust me, Jude is … something else. She’s never wearing less than six colours. Her hair goes from blue to red to green to yellow to pink, depending on her mood and the season. She is a true devotee of Vivienne Westwood, and all that entails. I love her. She’s amazing.”

  Her genuine pleasure made him happy. He liked to think of Cassie with wonderful, bright, loving people in her life.

  He didn’t dare investigate that idea further.

  It was enough to know that Cassie had family who adored her, as she deserved.

  “Speaking of beautiful things,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “I have something for you.”

  He shifted her off his lap and stood. Cassie padded behind him as he moved into the bedroom. He lifted a box from the side of the bed she’d been using, then walked softly towards her.

  “What is it?” She asked, her hands by her side.

  Layth flipped the top so that she could see the jewels inside. Cassie inhaled sharply. It was a diamond necklace. Not a single diamond. Not five, not ten. It was a cobweb of jewels – perhaps thirty of them – all linked together in an intricate weave.

  Cassie took an involuntary step backwards. “It’s way, way too much.”

  “It is perfect for this beautiful neck. It’s yours.” His tone was no-nonsense.

  Cassie’s eyes dropped back to the necklace. “I can’t take it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s … there must be … it’s just wrong.”

  “It will make me happy to think of you with it.”

  Cassie bit down on her lip. “I don’t want it. I don’t need it. Please, Layth, don’t give me things like this.”

  “Cassie,” he sighed with frustration. “It is nothing. Do not overanalyse it.”

  “It’s not nothing,” she denied quickly. “It’s … too much.”

  “So you’ve said,” he murmured, lifting the necklace from the box so that he could lay it around her front. He hooked it behind her neck then stood back to admire it. “Beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is, but I can’t keep it.”

  His eyes flared. “It is not up for discussion. Throw it away, if you must, when I am gone. Until then, it is yours.”

  Cassie stared at him with impatience. “Layth…”

  “I do not intend to argue with you.”

  Their eyes locked in a silent battle, and finally she sighed. “I don’t need this.” She just needed him.

  8

  The supermarket inside Waterloo was packed.

  Just her luck. Cassie blew her hair out of her face for lack of other options. Her hands were weighed down with far too many things to hold. But she’d refused a basket
upon entry, and she’d stubbornly stuck to that decision.

  The queue inched forward minutely; she shuffled in line with the snake.

  Mentally, she ran through the recipe, trying to make sure she’d grabbed everything required. Chicken, mushrooms, white wine, paprika, crème fraiche, rice, yes.

  They’d had traditional Takisabad food the night before. The night before that, it had been burgers. Cassie figured it was her turn to choose again. But this time, she was cooking.

  A smile of anticipation tingled on her lips as she thought of him.

  Layth Sati. Her gut pulled with pleasurable desire. As soon as she’d paid for these groceries, she’d hail a cab and go to him.

  Her eyes drifted to the enormous clock just outside the M&S express. She was later than she’d intended to be, but a last minute complication at work had kept her.

  Her phone began to vibrate in her handbag and she frowned. No way could she juggle the various items she was balancing and answer her phone. She mentally shrugged and inched forward a little.

  Finally, after what felt to be an interminable wait, she was at the front of the line. She went through the motions of polite conversation with the assistant and paid with cash. The bag was a relief to hold after managing so many items. She fished her phone out as she left the store and saw a missed call from Melinda.

  Cassie dialled on autopilot, and paused, waiting for the call to connect. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a dark figure. Someone familiar. She turned, the hairs on the back of her neck standing instantly.

  “Hey babes.” Melinda’s voice made her smile, but tension was still pulsing beneath her skin.

  Who had she just seen?

  She paced across the front of the store, her eyes peering into the shop. A flash of black, disappearing behind a fridge.

  A frisson of fear danced down her spine. It couldn’t be Antonio. She had a restraining order in place.

  “Cass?”

  She shivered, and clutched the bag tighter. Moving more quickly now, she stepped out of the station, and scanned the street for a cab. Traffic was at a standstill.

  “Yeah, hi. Sorry, I’m lugging groceries.”

  “Oh. Okay. Did you hear what I said?”

  “No, I didn’t. Go again.”

  “I asked if you want to meet up at the bar tonight? A few of us are going.”

  “You mean Wine Underground?” She queried, frowning as she spun back towards the station and scanned the frontage.

  The man was there. Dark pants, black shirt, and dark, reflective glasses.

  It wasn’t Antonio. The first breath of relief was quickly swallowed. If Antonio wasn’t following her, who the hell was?

  Her heart was hammering in her chest.

  “Yeah. A couple of the others suggested it.”

  “Oh, um, I can’t.”

  She could practically hear Melinda’s eye roll. “Let me guess. You have a royal engagement.”

  “Yeah. But you should make a point of talking to Renee. He really likes you. And he’s a great guy.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So you keep saying. If you like him so much, you should date him.”

  “He’s only got eyes for you.”

  “As if. Men like him are all the same. Suave man-whores.”

  Cassie laughed, despite the tangle of worry that was budding in her gut. A quick look over her shoulder showed the man hadn’t moved. Maybe she was being dramatic. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. The business with Antonio had left her rattled, that was all.

  She stepped away from the station, moving swiftly through the stationary traffic to get to the other side. Then, she clipped along the embankment and paused behind a light pole.

  He was following.

  Her knees began to shake and she scanned the traffic desperately.

  “So you’re not coming? Really? I feel like I haven’t seen you in a year.”

  Cass nodded, but the guilt was dwarfed by apprehension. “I know. I was home this morning but you were still sound asleep.”

  “That’s another thing. What’s with the weird coming and going at strange hours?”

  “I just …”

  “Can’t you take stuff to his place?”

  “Yeah.” She was distracted. “I just feel better getting ready at home.”

  “Yet you’re happy to spend the night there.”

  “Mel,” Cassie sighed, watching as the man positioned himself directly opposite her. It was then that she saw the plastic earpiece attached to his shirt. And the hint of a suspicion formed. “I have to go. I’ll catch you soon, I promise.”

  “Okay. Let’s try for lunch later this week.”

  “Uh huh, okay, sure. I’ll call you.” She swiped the phone off and sent one last curious look at the man.

  Dressed in black with an earpiece? He could only be one of Layth’s security agents.

  Her expression was like a thundercloud as she marched back through the traffic jam towards him.

  He didn’t react, nor respond.

  “Hey.” She put her free hand on her hip. “Who are you?”

  He angled his head to her, but his glasses made it impossible to see.

  “Do you speak English?”

  “Little,” he said with a heavy accent.

  She ground her teeth. It was confirmation enough. “Stop following me.”

  He held his hands up in an appeasing gesture.

  “Stop following me,” she repeated and held her finger up to warn him. “I mean it. Stop it.”

  She walked quickly away from him, back into the station. People were swarming in the peak hour, and she absorbed herself into the crowd. He might have been one of royal guards, but she had the edge in her own city. She moved quickly through the rabbit warren of tube platforms, until she heard a train approaching. She didn’t care where it was going, she just wanted to get away. She waited until the train was beeping to close its doors, just to be sure she hadn’t been followed, then stepped onto it.

  He was nowhere to be seen.

  Her breathing slowly returned to normal. One station was sufficient. She exited back above ground and this time, easily hailed a cab.

  But by the time she arrived at Layth’s hotel, her temper was frayed.

  How dare he have her followed?

  She barely looked at his other agents, standing sentinel throughout the hotel. Spies, she thought to herself angrily! She stepped into the lift and tried to calm her temper as it rode swiftly upwards.

  But she was almost ready to explode.

  Until the doors pinged open and she saw what Layth had done.

  His hotel room had been transformed. Red roses were everywhere, and hundreds of candles flickered to create a glowing warmth.

  “Finally,” he smiled, his handsome face taking her breath away.

  She grabbed the tailend of her temper and held it tight. “You’re having me followed?”

  Her tone was colder than even she’d intended.

  He stopped walking and frowned. “I am sorry?”

  “You’re having me followed. By one of your guards.”

  His expression was instantly autocratic. “Yes.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What? Why?”

  He moved towards her and lifted the grocery bag from her hands. He placed it on the bench. “You are my lover. It puts you at risk. I do not want harm to befall you because you have chosen to sleep with me.”

  Her face showed her confusion. “For a start off… just, wow. I don’t know what to say.” She rubbed her temples. “I understand you were trying to do the right thing, but it’s kind of bad manners to have someone followed. You should have told me. Your guy scared the pants off me.”

  “I hope not,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist. “At least, not without me there to enjoy the sight.”

  “I’m serious,” she groaned. “I had no idea who it was and why he was on my tail.”

  “My guy, as you call him, should have been more careful. His job is to be unseen.”


  “That’s not the point. If you’d told me this, I would have at least listened.” She toyed with her necklace. “It felt invasive. I don’t like it. Can you stop it?”

  “Not unless you stay here properly with me. And allow me to send my driver with you, to and from work.”

  “What? That’s utterly absurd. I’ve lived here for years. I can look after myself.”

  “Do it to placate me.”

  She looked up into his deep, dark eyes and felt her heart twist.

  “What is the harm? You have a nice, comfortable ride and I have peace of mind that no hurt will come to you on my account.”

  She sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

  Mollified by the beginning of her agreement, he switched his focus to the groceries. “What do you have in the bag?”

  “Ingredients.” At his perplexed look, she expanded. “I’m making you dinner?”

  His brows shot up. “You cook?”

  “Yes,” she couldn’t help the small smile that came to her lips. “Remember? Burger flipping extraordinaire?”

  “Of course. How could I forget?” He kissed her forehead. “I have something to show you first.”

  “Another spy?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Come.”

  She rolled her eyes, but secretly, she adored his commanding nature. She fell into step beside him. But when he paused just outside the dressing room they’d first made love in, her heart turned over in her chest. Vivid images of that night were scorched into her brain matter.

  He seemed to understand, and he pulled her against his body, holding her tight. “Not that. Yet.”

  She was jelly inside. She swallowed, trying to control the appetite that lurched drunkenly out of control when he was nearby.

  “Then what?” It looked identical to how it had that first time.

  He released his grip on her and prowled to one of the mirrored doors. He slid it sideways, to reveal an enormous quantity of women’s clothing. Cassie followed him, her fingers running over the garments on autopilots. “What is this?” She frowned, after he’d pushed several more doors aside to reveal shoes, bags, and make up.

 

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