Mansi looked excitedly at the door and then at Jameela. “He’s here?” she asked and perked up even further.
“Don’t get so excited. I just hope he is gone by the time we leave. I don’t want to be in his company any further than I have to. The man unnerves me.”
“I can see that,” Mansi replied and smiled.
Jameela settled back into her chair and allowed the woman to finish her treatment. The remainder of the time she was there was characterized by anxiety. She couldn’t control the rush of blood in her veins as she thought about him, and when it was time to leave she was nerve wrecked.
“What would be so bad about running into him?” Mansi asked. “Just say hi and keep walking. That wouldn’t kill you, right?”
“Right,” Jameela agreed. But as she rounded the bed and the exit sign came into view, so did Al-Hafeez. He stood then and walked directly to her.
“I thought that was you before,” he told her, and then smiled and nodded politely at Mansi.
“He doesn’t seem so bad,” Mansi whispered to Jameela from the corner of her mouth.
Jameela rolled her eyes and forced her attention to the man. She believed in looking people directly into the eyes when speaking, but she found it hard to do so with Al-Hafeez. “I come here from time to time,” she told him.
“May I have a word?” he asked her, implying Mansi should make herself scarce.
“I’ll wait in the car,” she told Jameela, taking the obvious hint.
Al-Hafeez waited until she was out of earshot and then turned to Jameela. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you but every time I’ve phoned the office you were out. I’m glad I ran into you now.”
“What is the matter? Has something else happened regarding the case I should know about?” She was now concerned for her legal reputation.
“No, there hasn’t been any new development. I just thought that I had you wrong. I have never been in this situation, nor am I accustomed to leaving my fate in the hands of someone I don’t know.”
“It would seem as if leaving it in your hands wasn’t such a good idea either,” she replied mockingly.
Al Hafeez laughed, and the sound of his laugher struck her hard and deep and reverberated inside her. A feeling came over her she was unfamiliar with, and she began to grow unsteady standing before him. “You may be right about that. I did mess up bad,” he told her. “I was uncomfortable being defended by a woman who seemed too fragile and weak to keep me out of jail…hold on…” he said and chuckled when he saw Jameela’s face coloring. “I was wrong. I saw how you handled the DA and I was impressed, so I thought maybe we should start over.”
“Thank you,” Jameela replied and blushed. “So how do we do that?”
“Well, I was wondering if you would give me the pleasure of going with me to dinner?”
His question took Jameela by surprise. “I don’t think that’s a good idea for me to fraternize with you,” she replied.
“It’s not fraternizing. Think of it as still being on the clock,” he told her. “If it makes you feel any better, we could just discuss the case.”
Jameela found he would not take no for an answer, so she eventually agreed. He would pick her up at her apartment at seven. She nodded and walked off to greet an overly excited Mansi.
“So? What was that about?” she asked.
“He asked me out to dinner,” Jameela reluctantly volunteered.
“See, I knew it,” Mansi replied and glued her eyes on Jameela for more to the story.
“You knew what exactly?” Jameela asked and pulled the seatbelt across her chest.
“That you were into him more than you were letting on,” she replied with a satisfactory grin.
“You make that sound as if I was the one who invited him out,” Jameela replied with incredulity.
“You weren’t the one to do it, but you could have said no,” Mansi replied and winked at her.
Jameela opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. Mansi was right and she knew it. For all her talk that she couldn’t stand to be around Al-Hafeez, she had said yes to dinner, with almost zero hesitation. She closed her mouth and turned her attention to the window as she watched the buildings disappearing behind the fast moving car. She didn’t even care to comment on Mansi’s speeding this time, because her own mind was racing much faster, and she felt incapable of controlling what would happen next.
CHAPTER 6
When Jameela opened her door later that night, she felt as if she was seeing Sheikh Al-Hafeez for the first time. He seemed like a strangely different man, and she felt herself thinking more comfortably about his charms and her sexuality, and the two combined. He was as handsome as before, except that now he looked debonair too, in his black suit and white shirt which had the top two buttons open, the collar limping slightly like a dog’s ear to reveal his smooth skin that was in stark contrast to his outfit.
She took in a deep breath, clutched her purse before her and stepped outside with him. He held his arm for her, and she, being the lady she was, could hardly refuse his chivalry. She sensed he was acting as was his custom, but she couldn’t help feeling like a damsel from a fairytale who had just been rescued. She saw him glance over, his eyes sweeping her body as it took in the emerald green skin hugging dress she wore that was lined along the bust with faux diamonds. The cut revealed her cleavage and ripe breasts forcing their way outside their temporary prison. The dress ended just below her knees, far enough to reveal the silvery strapped sandals she wore. She blushed when she saw his obvious approval, followed by a slight jerk of his lips.
Over dinner, she became as self-conscious as she could possibly feel, for he never once restrained himself from feasting his eyes on her bosom.
“I never imagined you would look like that under those suits,” he finally mentioned to her. “I am intrigued.” He leaned forward and locked his fingers on the table.
“I thought this was going to be a business meeting,” she replied and instantly placed the glass of champagne to her lips, an attempt to distract her from his field of gravity that was pulling her in. Half the times she was around Al-Hafeez she felt as if she was being sucked into a black hole, and that he took immense pleasure watching her spiral into oblivion, knowing full well he was the only man with the means to her escape.
“It is. I just mentioned your suit; that’s work,” he said and smiled.
“You’re hilarious,” she replied as a smile worked its way onto her face too. She wrapped her hands around her and looked around the room at anything she could find that wasn’t his face.
“Am I that repulsive?” he asked her.
“What do you mean?” she asked as she whipped her head around.
“You refuse to look at me, when other women can’t seem to take their eyes off,” he told her, his ego once more running rampant.
“I’m not other women,” she told him, and made a deliberate attempt at staring into his eyes to prove her strength, and him wrong. That act was to her detriment. He held her eyes there for longer than she wanted him to, and without saying a word, he communicated a strange desire for her, and the realization caused her heart to race. Her chest heaved as she got lost in him, and she was grateful when the waiter intervened with an offer for additional drinks. “So, what’s your story?” she asked him, a measly attempt at a distraction.
It seemed to work—if even for the moment. He fell back against his chair and wiped his hand over his face. “There is no story—not really. I was young, I got bored, fell in with the wrong crowd and started gambling. I didn’t know then what a cold and dark world it could be. Heck, I didn’t know until this offense.”
“I don’t get it,” Jameela replied. “You have money coming out of your ears; your family owns much of the real estate on the coast; you were bred as royalty, with power and influence you can now wield like a sword. Why didn’t you make better use of your time, and money, rather than losing it in such a juvenile manner?”
“Now y
ou sound like my father,” he replied and looked away. “It became an obsession before I realized how problematic it could be. I’ve costed my family more money than I am proud to admit. This time was a wakeup call for me. If you can get me off, that’s my promise to myself, to you and to my father, that I am done. He had been waiting for me to fill his shoes ever since I was fifteen. They are not shoes I feel I am worthy of,” he said and sighed.
“In your current state, probably not,” she said softly, already empathizing with him. “But it is a start to acknowledge your mistake, and to get help.”
“I suppose,” he replied. Then he was silent for a while as he stared at her. “I’ve never met you before hiring you, but I got the impression, even on our first encounter, that you didn’t like me much.”
Jameela blushed and looked down at the table. “Let’s just say that your issues came too close to home; my grandfather lost his estate because of his own gambling problems.”
“Aah,” he replied as he suddenly understood her attitudes against him. “I can’t say I would feel any differently. And how is it now that you have come to ‘forgive’ me?”
“There was nothing to forgive; it wasn’t your fault,” she told him and smiled.
“Still you hold me responsible,” he said and sipped from his glass. “I believe I should change your perception of me.” He held his hand up then, signaled the waiter, and paid the tab. “Shall we?” he asked as he stood and offered her a hand.
She knew it wasn’t a good idea to do so, but she took it and instantly felt the electricity char her insides. She almost tripped over her own feet, and had it not been for his quick response, she might have fallen. She hated how she felt around him, how everything she did and felt appeared magnified, and how amused he was with all of it.
The ride home was even more unbearable, and it was all she could do to keep from jumping out of her skin knowing he was that close. It was pointless now to keep denying the attraction she felt, and how intoxicated it made her feel in his presence. The alcohol within her made her even more of a sap, and by the time the car pulled up at her apartment, she was a sticky mess of emotional ooze.
Al-Hafeez alighted from the vehicle and skipped to her door so that he could open it for her. Jameela stepped out, shivered and then rubbed her hands together.
“Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold,” he offered and they hurried to her door. When she got it open, she stood there awkwardly, not sure how to end the night. She stretched out her hand to him, and he reluctantly took it, but not before she glanced up and saw his eyes grow even darker than they already were. Before she could assess the meaning of it, she felt his lips crush hers. She stood there stupefied for a few seconds, not knowing how to respond, but then, as his lips grew warm on hers, she felt her body tingling, and it reacted before her mind caught up with her. Her lips parted, in the same moment she felt his hands on the small of her back. She felt like an imbibed woman, knowing what was happening but feeling powerless to stop it. Not that she wanted to. She had told herself she wasn’t ready to be with anyone, and she had repeated the words like a mantra, until she had believed it. But now, as his body rubbed against hers, and she felt his fingers grow tight as he held her, she knew that she had been lying to herself all along. Slowly she rose her hands and brought them to his nape, and her eyes closed then and she took him in, and they played games with their tongues.
When he let her go, she wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to fall asleep to thoughts of his arms around her, only to hug her sheets yet another night. She smiled at him, and her dress shimmered in the light as she opened her door and led him inside. She could sense his need, and hers was quickly catching up. She knew he wouldn’t say no to her silent invite.
As soon as the doors closed behind them, he swept her off her feet and speedily took her to the sofa—the closest thing to comfort he saw. He rested her gently there, and without any words passed between them, their bodies interacted. His lips descended upon hers like a plague, and he drained all the sanity and logic from her. Jameela’s hands moved upwards to unbutton his shirt, and she slid slim delicate fingers over smooth skin that slowly got riddled with goose pimples. She felt his perked nipple, and she grew excited. His hands found hers then, and he massaged them slowly, his eyes growing mad the longer he teased himself. Then he slid her dress from her shoulders and kissed each tenderly before bringing himself to get lost in her kiss again.
Jameela could feel her ache intensify and she clawed at him as she urged him on. His breathing grew harder as she dug into him, and when he stuck his tongue inside her ear, and the warmth emanated within her, she slipped her hands inside his pants. He eased upwards to give her room, and she squeezed taut buttocks, pressing him down once more.
Al-Hafeez could stand it no longer, and he ripped the dress from her, causing a tiny yelp to come from her. Then he slipped her lace bra aside and suckled her nipples as they grew hard in his mouth. Then he carved a path down her ribs and towards her navel where he buried his tongue. Jameela grabbed his hair and writhed beneath him, biting her lips so hard she could taste her blood as it grew even hotter. When his hands touched her more delicate region, she shuddered, and almost exploded when his tongue followed, darting in and out of her like a serpent. She was raging with heat now, and begged him to take her. Heeding her call, he spread her legs, and guided himself inside her. They threw their heads back simultaneously as she felt him fill her, and as he felt her walls clamp shut around him.
Jameela arched her back and dug her fingers into his side as he eased in and out of her repeatedly, causing tremors to shake her body each time. Al-Hafeez paused long enough to lift one of her legs in the air and rest it on the back of the sofa. With even more room, he sank further inside her, and as she cried out in ecstasy his momentum increased. She could feel her juice spilling all over him, and he began to glide in and out of her more freely. Sweat beads popped up all over her, and as he pumped and gyrated, she grew heady as she climaxed repeatedly. Then she felt him buck and shudder, and he covered her breasts with his palms and pressed down into her as he got his release. He sank deep inside her, and remained buried until he had given her everything he had.
She could barely move her legs without assistance, feeling too weak in the knees to assume control of them. He pulled back and sat on the sofa where her feet rested, and then took them into his lap. He smiled at her, and stroked her legs as he stared at her body dreamily.
“This isn’t something I’d normally do,” she apologized as her head fell back.
Al-Hafeez chuckled. “I would hope not. But I also hope this won’t be the last time you do either.”
Jameela opened one eye to survey him from her position. “This wasn’t a one-time thing?”
“I never had any intentions for that. I want you, and not just for tonight,” he told her. “Would you mind greatly if I spent the night?”
“You want to…” she began, but no further words came.
“I want to,” he said and smiled. “Let me show you just how much you have gotten to me,” he told her as he leaned over and beckoned for a kiss. She kept her eyes open, watching him as they did, hardly believing any of it was real.
But she couldn’t deny she loved his idea, even if when he awakened in the morning, he wouldn’t still feel the same way. She began to wonder how it would affect her working relationship if he didn’t turn up afterwards, and she started to concoct a reason to give her partners…
She was getting carried away in thought until she felt his fingers exploring her insides and thumbing her erection, and suddenly she was bungeed back to reality. She looked into his eyes, and all doubt vanished, and everything else became irrelevant, as she willingly submitted to the very man she had set out to punish. So soon had the tides turned, and now she was the victim of her own mad crusade. But his punishment was something she yearned for, and as the night prolonged, he made her his prisoner, and she happily accepted his version of life without parole.
CHAPTER 7
“How’s the case coming along?” Ahmad asked Jameela the following week. Before his interruption, she had been reminiscing about a conversation she had had with Al-Hafeez in the morning. He had been at her apartment almost every night, until now she was not so clear on the distinction between work and romance.
“No new developments. The DA is trying to make a case, but she doesn’t have anything more than superficial connections,” she responded as she snapped back into work mode.
“That’s good. I knew this wouldn’t amount to much. I mean, who would believe criminality could ever exist within that family? It’s preposterous.”
“No one is exempt from pervading evil,” Jameela corrected. “We all have our demons.”
“That almost sounded as if it came from experience,” Ahmad replied and smiled at her, a rare occurrence.
“Perhaps,” she replied, but she volunteered nothing further. “In any case, I can only anticipate that the charges will be dropped and everything will return to normalcy soon.”
“Good for you. Then you won’t have him in your hair for much longer. I know how much you didn’t want it to begin with.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Jameela said and looked away. “It’s not like we had to move in or anything.”
ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance Page 4