Never Resist a Sheikh (International Bad Boys)

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Authors: Jackie Ashenden
had a number of them air their opinions the previous day—and it would not do to have her insult the entire court so early on. Not that he needed their agreement or permission,but if he didn’t want to be the dictator his father was he’d need to at least show he was sensitive to their wishes.
    Oddly, something that looked like doubt passed over her face, another quicksilver flash before it was gone. “Okay,” she said firmly. “I guess you have a deal.” Then she held out her hand over the table. “Shake on it.”
    Don’t. Touching her would be a mistake.
    But no, that was ridiculous.He was stronger than this desire. He had long since mastered it.
    Without hesitation, Zakir reached for her small hand, enclosing it in his own. And he was looking straight at her when he felt it go through him, the spark of electricity when his skin touched hers. Saw the flash of response in her eyes, saw them widen, her mouth opening in surprise and shock.
    Felt himself respond, too. The hunternow fully aware of his prey.
    He tightened his fingers instinctively, the warmth of her skin somehow even hotter than the sun bearing down on them through the awning, because he had to test himself against this. Prove himself master of it.
    Then she jerked her hand from his and he knew, with an instinct that was old as time, he wasn’t alone.
    She’d felt it, too.

Chapter Five

    F elicity sat on a low chair in front of the mirror, her palms sweaty and heartbeat somewhere in the vicinity of her mouth. Behind her stood one of the veiled women who didn’t speak any English and who was now pinning a length of snowy white silk in her hair.
    She stared at the stranger in the glass. Her face was pale, her eyes huge. They’d been carefully lined with black kohl,her mouth painted a pale pink, the freckles across her nose vanished with some powder. Simple makeup and yet not at all what she usually wore. In fact, she usually wore no makeup because she hated the stuff. Hated how it made her feel like she was once again the quiet teenager berated by her mother for not making more of herself. For paying more attention to her schoolwork than to the very importantsocial engagements her mother insisted she attend.
    Which made it weird that she was now sitting here, docilely letting someone else put paint on her face and do her hair. Folding her into the strange and diaphanous robes of white silk that wrapped around her and fluttered when she moved.
    And all because she wanted a damn phone call. It made her feel even more like a prisoner than she did already.

    She took a breath, resisting the urge to wipe her sweaty palms down the white silk of her robes.
    Okay, so demanding an internet connection had been pretty direct of her and it was annoying that he wasn’t going to go for it.
    Did you really expect him to?
    If she was honest with herself, not really. He wasn’t stupid, as he’d already proved. Nevertheless, she’d hoped he might be in a generous mood.Or even a pitying one. But apparently he wasn’t in either. And a phone call wasn’t going to be nearly enough. Still, she didn’t have much else in the way of options. She had to call Red Star, salvage what she could of the Al-Harahan deal, fix this somehow. Because the alternative…well, it just wasn’t happening. She’d spent too much time, too much blood, sweat, and tears building Red Star to seeit fail because some stupid sheikh had had the gall to kidnap her. Not to mention the fact that she had a whole lot of people whose jobs depended on her.
    No, she needed that phone call. Needed to see if she could renegotiate with the Al-Harahan government, reschedule the meeting…
    For when? He isn’t going to let you go anytime soon.
    She ground her teeth. Well, maybe she’d be able to get somesecret message out or something. Whatever happened though, she’d have to act the good little prisoner now. Annoying, when she’d sworn to herself she’d never let anyone use her, never let anyone force

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