Free The Sheikh's Hesitant Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 7) by Cara Albany

Rachel. And that was what he had really been looking forward to all day.
    He opened the door and looked out into the hall, suppressing a gasp. For a moment, he was lost for words. She looked amazing.
    Rachel wore an elegant navy blue dress and matching low-heeled shoes. But, what really seized his attention, made his heart skip a beat, was her bare shoulders and the generous hint of cleavage. Her skin looked smooth and pale, and he briefly wondered what it would feel like to the touch.
    He drank in the sight of her, savoring the slightly nervous expression on her features. She looked back at him, and a sudden awkwardness seemed to seize her. Rachel shifted on her heels, her hips twisting slightly, as if offering him a chance to admire her. He wondered if she was conscious of the effect it was having on him. It was a modest, yet charming gesture, totally in keeping with her personality. She smiled at Zarif. "Good evening," she said, her voice bright.
    Zarif leaned a hand against the door frame. "Well, aren't you something," he replied.
    He saw her face flush and her gaze drop down to take in the dress. "You like it?" she asked.
    Zarif shook his head and for a moment her brows furrowed. He smiled. "You look beautiful, Rachel. Absolutely amazing."
    Rachel smiled broadly. Her red lips just called out to him, tempting him to lean in closer and kiss her even before she entered his domain.
    Instead, he placed a hand gently on her bare shoulder and they exchanged a brief, polite air kiss.
    Zarif gestured for Rachel to enter the apartment. As she walked past him, he caught her scent, a mixture of flowers and sweetness, which made his nostrils flare and caused him to draw in a deep breath.
    He walked behind her, unable to resist the impulse to watch her hips shimmy beneath the fabric of the dress. The shape of her long back suddenly captivated him with its easy, swaying movement. He caught a glimpse of her spine and let his gaze drop to her legs, taking in the delicious sight of her calves.
    Noise from the kitchen made Rachel turn quickly to him, a puzzled expression on her face.
    "The chef's almost finished preparing our meal," he explained.
    "Chef?" she asked wide-eyed.
    Zarif nodded. "You don't expect a sheikh to know how to cook, do you?" he asked and grinned broadly.
    Rachel quirked a brow at him. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
    Zarif told her the name of the chef and her brows rose in obvious shock. "Him? But, he's one of the most famous chefs in London."
    Zarif shrugged. "Only the best," he declared.
    She nodded and sighed, obviously impressed and probably more than a bit nervous at the prospect of sampling the delights the chef had already described to Zarif.
    Zarif followed her into the sitting room. He offered her a glass of wine and gave her a quick tour of his apartment. He could tell she was impressed. Zarif had to admit it had been a good decision to use this place as his base. It was his favorite amongst the many properties he owned.  
    It had a modern, elegant quality which he enjoyed. Every room had been designed with an almost masculine sharpness, with minimalist furnishings, plain colors. Everything any self-respecting sheikh would want in a bachelor pad. Because, that was what it looked like as he took Rachel from room to room, he realized. A perfect place for a single man. That was what he was now. An unattached sheikh with no prospects of marriage. Wasn't he?
    Zarif diplomatically avoided showing Rachel his bedroom. As they passed the closed door in the hallway, she glanced at him, as if expecting him to open the door. She seemed surprised when he didn't, and he hurriedly moved her back to the sitting room.
    The chatted a while, as they had done on so many occasions these past two weeks. They'd gone past the point of awkward discovery, moved beyond the bland politeness of social chat. Now they were able to share their opinions of things more intimately, more honestly.  
    Zarif had come to value their