Sheikh's Virgin Love-Slave Read online

  It left him wearing nothing but his swim trunks and she had to lick her lips at the sight. Maybe it was the alcohol and borderline heat stroke talking, negating her usual inhibitions. Whatever it was, she was allowing herself to fully appreciate him. His broad shoulders weren’t the only thing to marvel over. His arms were sinewy and muscular, honed by clear dedication at the gym. He had biceps that belied his strength, but weren’t overly developed or anything that bordered on ‘roid rage candidate. No; Ravi’s arms were perfect, well-sculpted and coiled like steel. His skin was almost as dark as leather, and she fanned herself a bit at the view she had. She could watch the drips of sweat pass over the defined ridges of his abdomen and down the tantalizing dip in his hips.

  “Are you okay? You suddenly went quiet,” he said. “Do you want another water?”

  I’m not that kind of thirsty. Dear God, Ravi is totally the ultimate thirst trap.

  Bridget tried to claw herself back to some sense of reason, to something that resembled clear-headedness even with the mimosas bubbling through her system. Easing down onto her own towel, she slipped off her sundress. That left her pale skin fully exposed to the harsh desert sun.

  “No, but wow, I’m going to turn into a crispy critter. My ancestors came from a land of no sun.”

  He reached to a small bottle beside the foot of his towel and squirted suntan lotion into his palms. “I’ve got mostly tanning oil on, to be honest, but I can tell you’ll need forty-five. Was I presuming too much?”

  “No, even if I go back on a flight tonight, the last thing I need is to be a pink peeling mess back home!”

  He nodded and clenched his jaw as he worked out the lotion on his hands. “Do you think you’ll leave?”

  “This morning I still would have said yes.”

  “And now?” he asked.

  She bit her lower lip. “I’ve had a lot of mimosas. I’m not sure. I don’t trust anything that even has a small taint of my father on it, you have to understand that.”

  “Well, we aren’t exactly business associates. He was trying to rob me,” Ravi said dryly. “Now turn your back to me, princess.”

  “I don’t have to do what you say.”

  He grinned that devil’s grin of his and reached for her shoulders. “Actually, you do.” Then Ravi moved closer and grabbed both of her shoulders firmly with his hands. Each one easily covered her shoulders.

  What else could those hands do?

  He started to knead and rub the lotion into her back. “If you do choose to stay, you’ll get used to it. I’ll be the one calling the shots, and you’ll love that.”

  “Oh, will I now?”

  “Yes,” he said, more confident than any other man she’d ever met. “I love many things about the West. My mother was from France. She sent me to the Sorbonne for university.”

  “You can draw?”

  “I mostly paint, actually,” he admitted. His hands were like magic, working not only the lotion over her skin but also working out the tension and knots throughout her muscles. Instinctively, she arched her neck back and mewled a little. He chuckled and worked at her lower back. “Sounds like you’re warming up to the idea of staying.”

  She sighed and bit her lip, not sure if she wanted to let reality intrude on her day in the sun. “I need to talk to my friend first. I don’t even care about my crappy job, but Cindi needs to know I’m safe. I just… it’s hard.”

  It was sad to realize she could just step out of her life and go as far The United Arab Emirates and almost no one but Cindi would care.

  Note to self: get more friends and make my coworkers notice me.

  “Is it?”

  “I know what I like,” she moaned a little as he reached around to rub the lotion over her stomach, his large hands cupping her narrow waist in the process. Ravi took the opportunity to pull her into his lap, and there was no mistaking the shape of the bulge straining against her. His erection was firm against her rear through the thin fabric of their swimsuits; it was enough to cause heat to flare through her belly once again. “I mean that I know this feels good, but that doesn’t make it a good idea,” she corrected, hoping her face wasn’t as red and as flushed as it felt.

  “But if it feels right,” he said, reaching for a bottle of water and a spare towel to clean off his hands thoroughly. “Why fight it?”

  “I don’t know. Everything always goes to crap in my life eventually. Dean Callahan is best friends with Murphy’s Law, and I get caught in the crossfire. I never get to have anything for myself. I never get to have what I need, let alone what I want.”

  He turned her around on his lap, and she swallowed hard, sobered both by the water and by the intense look in his jade eyes. It was deep and calculating, as if he could see into her very soul. “And what is it you want?”

  His voice was a low bass and from the position she was sitting in, Bridget could feel it vibrating through his chest and through to her. It seemed to cut down to her very core.

  “I want you, but I shouldn’t.”

  “Well you had a lot of champagne today and that wasn’t the best idea,” he conceded philosophically. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because it was fun. And delicious.”

  “Can’t you just have fun with me, my swan?” he asked, reaching out and pushing a long strand of her honey blonde hair off her shoulder. “Wouldn’t wherever this takes us be worth it?” He dropped his voice to a low whisper. “I promise I can make you so happy.”

  She laughed. “I know you can make me do a lot of things, and... Oh screw it,” Bridget finished, leaning up and kissing him.

  Playing it safe had left her lonely and desperate at only twenty-five years old. Being the dependable girl made people look through her like cellophane, meant she could count the number of good orgasms she’d had on less than two hands and that did include last night as one of them. The good girl needed something too, and so she kissed him, and he did taste like cinnamon.

  His tongue twisted fiendishly with hers in a dance for dominance. She stroked her own over his, feeling the give and take of his tongue. Then he pulled back just enough to capture her lower lip in his mouth and give it the tiniest love bite. That sent shivers down her back. While they continued kissing, he reached down with one hand to clutch the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. The motion pushed her up tightly against his hardness.

  The heat was flaring out from her belly, into her core, and seeping out into her limbs. It felt as if she’d accidentally electrocuted herself on a broken strand of Christmas lights, as if the current was running through her, low and steady. Not enough to be exciting—yet—but still warming her under the surface.

  Sparks. She was feeling those sparks.

  His other hand snaked low and then teased its way under the fabric of her bikini bottom. He wasted no time stroking over her mons or her thatch of hair. Ravi’s talented fingers were on a single-minded mission and she sat up as best she could on her knees to encourage him to finish it. Long, dexterous digits stroked over her slick folds and she screamed her pleasure confidently. After all, the servants were already gone. They were down on the boat across the beach, and she was free to shout her pleasure, her ecstasy, to just them, the only inhabitants of the private island.

  Ravi’s mouth was nipping and nibbling at her own, his tongue like a rapacious conqueror in her mouth, even as his fingers slipped beneath her folds and sought at her channel. Three thick fingers plumbed her depths, filling her in a way she’d never been before. The sparks felt as if they were arcing over her skin, as if she were a live wire made flesh. Then he pressed his thumb against her pearl and began to make slow, tortuous circles.

  The bolts of pleasure sizzled through her, and she thrust her womanhood against him, helping him get the leverage needed to go deeper and deeper inside of her. His rhythm intensified to first match and then outpace her own, a rapid tattoo that made her heart race and her body shake beneath him. It felt like hours lying there, under his forceful yet s
killed ministrations, hours that could have been forever, lost in the ecstasy of him; of his touch.

  Then he found that one special spot, deep inside and she came, her body feeling as energized as if it had been struck by lightning, as if millions upon millions of volts were lighting up every nerve.

  She howled again, so loud she was sure she’d scared any and every sea creature near them. Then she fell, loose-limbed and exhausted into his arms. A period of time passed while he laved and nipped at her shoulders and traced lazy patterns with his tongue over her neck, but Bridget finally remembered how to speak.

  “That was amazing.”

  “Thank you,” he said, smirking back at her.

  She blushed again. “I suppose you must hear that almost every night from someone new.”

  Great, Bridget. Remind him that he’s a womanizer; that’ll go well.

  He shook his head and kissed her lips, that cinnamon now fresh on her tongue. “I’ve never had a better partner, someone as enthusiastic as you. When I watched you climax, my swan, I couldn’t tear myself away from your face, especially your eyes. It was riveting.”

  “I’m glad you find me so fascinating,” she said, rolling her eyes and adopting a mock baritone.

  “I find you amazing,” he countered. “Come, we can swim a bit and then get back to the mansion for changing. We have dinner plans later, and you’ll clearly want to wash off after more lazing in the sand and surf.”

  She blinked back at him. “You have an itinerary for our one day together? Is this some super-organized drill-sergeant thing?”

  “It’s an ‘I only have one day to convince you to stay’ thing. I promised to show you Dubai, princess. Now, do keep up.”

  Chapter Six

  “And so that’s what happened,” she said, biting her lower lip and wishing her best friend would say something, anything.

  Cindi blinked back at her with wide, confused eyes. “You were abducted by an oil sheikh?”

  “I don’t actually know how he makes his money,” Bridget corrected lamely.

  “No, seriously,” Cindi continued standing up and pacing in front of her laptop. “You left the bar like two nights ago, walked across the street to the parking garage, and faster than you can say ‘Allahu Akbar’ you’re in Dubai and in a harem?”

  “There is definitely no harem.” She decided not to mention Sabella, in case that woman really did have a special place in Ravi’s heart that he hadn’t admitted to yet. That wouldn’t make her seem less crazy to Cindi. Not at all. “I’m here today, and I’m deciding if I’m going to go home after that.”

  “He caught you to let you go?”

  “I know. I can’t pretend to understand it either, but he doesn’t want to hurt me or anything bad. I really… it’s hard to explain, but he’s amazing.”

  Cynthia shook her head and sat back down at her chair. “He didn’t drug you, did he? He didn’t do anything to make you like him?”

  “No, he happens to be gorgeous and charming and, um, talented,” Bridget finished lamely, feeling the blush spread across her face.

  Cynthia’s eyes were now the size of hubcaps. “Did you sleep with him?”

  “No. Well, not technically.”

  “Blowjob?”

  She rolled her eyes and reminded herself that her best friend spoke much more freely about sex than she did. Sometimes it made for vicarious funny stories, but often it meant that Cindi would say things out loud that Bridget couldn’t even think, let alone say.

  “It was like rounding second base, maybe? Heavy petting.”

  Her friend pinched the bridge of her nose. “On one hand, however it happened, I’m happy you’re finally moving on to someone to wash the taste of Kevin out of your mouth.”

  “Hey!”

  “Oh, admit it. Kevin was a huge loser. We both know it.”

  “True.”

  “But, I don’t know how happy I should be that now you’ve moved onto some sheikh who kidnapped you. He could be hiding huge secrets or danger from you!”

  Bridget narrowed her eyes back at her friend. “He’s the ruler of Dubai, not some terrorist!”

  “I didn’t go there, but if you want to talk Freudian slips...”

  “No, Cind, you do not get to psychoanalyze me on this one,” Bridget said. “My point is that I don’t know what I’m going to do. All I know is I feel more alive in the last twelve hours or so than I’ve ever felt, and we still have whatever we’re doing tonight, whatever dinner or plans to get through before I decide. I wanted you to know I was safe, and that I’m probably going to be home soon. You know?”

  “Just be smart and careful, chick. You know I can’t just replace you. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  “Ditto, even if I hate your cats,” Bridget said, chuckling to herself. “I gotta go. My, uh, servant—for now—Kamala, is coming to help me get dressed.”

  “See, now you sound uber-fancy. ‘My servant.’”

  “Cind, I know this can’t last. I’ll probably be home soon. Even if it’s all nuts, I have to see where it goes. I’ve spent my whole life being the most boring person on the planet. Now I can at least say I had one grand adventure.”

  Her friend nodded and smiled broadly. “Look after yourself and do what you need to do. You just better get back to me in one piece or I will be waging some serious war on this guy all by myself.”

  Somehow that made Bridget feel a million times better and no longer as homesick.

  ***

  “You look lovely,” Ravi said as she slid into the limo beside him.

  She wasn’t sure if those were the right words to describe how she looked. There were things about her body that tended to depress Bridget. She knew she was gangly, that she was built somewhat like a coat rack, as her dad would snarl when he was especially drunk and yelling at her. Her modest curves always made her feel intimidated in the dating world. So she wasn’t sure what the hell Kamala had been thinking when she draped a sky-blue, gauzy, see-through kaftan over a matching gem-studded bra and harem pants. It wasn’t exactly indecent, but it was easy enough to see through the kaftan’s thin material and gaze at her stomach and navel.

  To see plainly that she’d never be as curvy or beautiful as Sabella—or as a lot of women.

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly as the car started off from the Palms and to the heart of the city.

  “You don’t sound comfortable. Are you regretting what we did this morning?”

  She shook her head and stared into those jade eyes, knowing how easy it would be to lose herself in them. “It’s the one thing I’m mostly sure of.”

  “Then was your call home upsetting?”

  “No, but I just… I appreciate that tonight you want to show me Dubai and that must include some of the traditional entertainment and dining, but I don’t exactly feel like Princess Jasmine over here.”

  Ravi’s face scrunched up as if he’d eaten a particularly sour lemon. “I’ve always loathed that film.”

  She blinked back at him. “Really?”

  “I spent time traveling in France and most of Europe as a teenager at Mother’s insistence. So often the media makes us the bad guys or gets it completely wrong. I found so many aspects of Aladdin completely ridiculous. Besides, the tale is originally Chinese.”

  “I didn’t know that.” She frowned, considering his words. “You mentioned your mother again, but you haven’t said much about your dad.”

  Ravi’s jaw tensed. “Mother was wonderful. She died about ten years ago. She was hit by a car while traveling, nothing political. Some drunk local when she was exploring D.C. and then Mother was gone.”

  “And your dad?”

  “I became sheikh about five years ago,” he said stiffly.

  She nodded, knowing the only way that could have come to pass. “I hate my dad, too.”

  “I didn’t say that I hated him.” He grinned at her and took her hand in his. “At least not in so many words.”

  “Trust me. I kn
ow that look. I’ve seen it enough times in the mirror. My dad is always running some scam. When I was younger, I used to hate that he was never there. Then, after my mom died, I hoped he’d become more stable. I still had this crazy delusion that he could change, be the kind of good father like yo see on TV. Then, I just was glad when he went radio silent. I should have known he was getting into bigger trouble.”

  Ravi nodded. “You’re in no trouble. I meant my words. You can leave after dinner if you choose to, and I’ll understand. I wish I had had your problem growing up. I confess the idea of a father who was never around appeals. Mine was always about duty. I love my people, but Father only saw his role as training me to be the next sheikh. He never…” Ravi broke off and looked back out the window of the limo, although he didn’t drop her hand from his grasp.

  “What?”

  “Sometimes I think he forgot that his duty was also to be a father and not to merely train a successor. Pity he never figured out the difference.”

  She reached into the mini-fridge with her free hand and pulled out two bottles of water in quick succession. Opening and raising hers with both hands, she waited for Ravi to do the same. “To fathers,” Bridget exclaimed. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

  “Hear, hear.”

  ***

  They finished dinner when the entertainment came to the floor at the traditional Emirati restaurant that he selected. Ravi had been delighted to see the joy and adventurous spirit Bridget had exhibited. She sampled every delicacy from lamb to roast camel to shawarma and swallowed it all. Granted, she hadn’t asked for a second bite of camel, but she was polite enough to try the delicacies of his culture, and he had to love her for that.

  Wait, love?

  No, that was nuts. He was captivated by her, wanted her. He sought her out, but he didn’t yet have feelings that deep for her. On the other hand, he knew that after the day they spent together, it was no longer just infatuation that was pulling on his heart strings. There were layers to his swan, and he wanted to spend years at least getting to peel back and understand every one of them.