Free Sheik Down by Mia Watts

Chapter One
    Raid Faisal made Lucas sweat. Not the sexy kind of sweat that made a guy look like he’d just oiled his body after pumping iron, but that nasty, armpit-itching, cold line down your back kind of sweating that never did anybody any favors. Raid Faisal was sex in a tailored European suit. He wore the modern low-rise waistline and flawlessly tapered business shirts that skimmed the lean, narrow line of his torso with a casual elegance of being born into it.
    He could’ve stepped from a fashion magazine. Like GQ . Hell, he could’ve stepped out of Forbes and been perfectly positioned among its ranks, because Sheik Raid Faisal wasn’t just a walking, talking orgasm. Sheik Raid Raisal had bank . The bank of a royal Arabian family behind him, thanks to the love affair of one wayward prince for an American debutante some thirty-five years ago.
    And thanks to that same heritage, the owner of Kanz international jewelry chain had the natural bronzed skin, black curled hair and ebony eyes of his mixed heritage. The sonofabitch was blessed, from his equine nose to his full, smooth lips.
    Lucas Talstaad dreaded working for the no-nonsense perfectionist. Yet four times a year, Lucas cleared his schedule. Raid coming to town meant something in his hillside mansion would need renovating. Despite the list of impossible demands Raid would give him, Lucas would take the paycheck. In turn, Lucas would bring his demands back to reality, then ride his Raid’s last nerve to watch the muscle tick in Raid’s perfect jaw, and do it knowing he was the only contractor the sheik trusted.
    They’d been doing this dance for seven years. If Raid wanted something to happen between them personally, he’d have made damn sure to lock Lucas down like any other business deal. Raid hadn’t, which meant that the incredibly lickable Raid Faisal was completely and utterly off-limits.
    So it was for business, not pleasure, that he stood in the main entryway of Raid’s home, with his tool belt slung low on his hips. He could hear Raid’s dark, sultry voice echoing off the marble as he approached. Like hearing the musical buildup before a shark attack, Lucas had a crazy mix of butterflies and dread.
    “See that it’s done,” Raid murmured before ending his call.
    Lucas stayed perfectly still as that black gaze traveled over his face—but only his face, sadly. Raid had rolled up his sleeves, revealing beautiful forearms covered with crisp black hairs. The silver-toned watch he always wore glittered beneath the chandelier lights. So did Raid’s smile when his lips suddenly parted on a deep laugh.
    “Lucas! Good to see you.”
    Lucas smiled too. “Raid,” he acknowledged, tipping his head in a brief nod.
    Lucas would like to say that every time he saw the man he felt exactly the same way—stunned with his good looks but otherwise on the job. Unfortunately, that wasn’t true. Three years ago, the job Raid pulled him into had sealed the deal on Lucas’s heart. A very important, lavish, one-room tree house, designed by Raid for a little boy dying of a horrible disease. That had been the linchpin.
    Well, probably not the tree house itself, more like watching Raid interact with the boy in the garden, seeing them run and laugh and watching the brick façade of Raid’s normal demeanor crumble into a million pieces all for the joy of a child. That instant, when Lucas caught a glimpse of the man beneath the business, he knew— knew —he was in trouble.
    “What do you have for me?” Lucas asked, all serious talk on the outside, when his insides were a puddle of warm chocolate.
    “A special project.” Raid’s smile disappeared and his gorgeous black eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “This is one you may not want to participate in. If that’s the case, I’ll need to know up front so I can hire another contractor.”
    “Have I ever let you down?” Lucas asked, affronted.
    “Never. This time it’s personal.”
    “More personal than the tree