LITMIR.BIZ

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slipping them on, she put on lipstick and brushed her hair, then reached for her black sweater. By the time she heard his voice coming from the sitting room, her excitement at going out with him was so great, it sent her heart tripping off the charts.

      To her embarrassment she almost ran into the other room, leaving him to believe she couldn’t wait to be with him. With her face hot, she stared at the tall, striking, black-haired man standing there in beige trousers and a black silk shirt.

      “You look lovely.” His deep voice resonated through her body.

      She could hardly talk. “Thank you.” There were no words to describe his masculine appeal.

      Between his lashes, his black eyes gleamed. “Shall we go?”

      They left the suite and walked down several long hallways to a palace entrance in companionable silence. Though their bodies never touched, Lauren felt the electricity between them like a living thing. She stepped outside into a garden of palms where the last stages of twilight could be seen through the fronds. The perfumed air was still hot.

      He took her sweater before helping her into the waiting black limo, evidently a privilege he enjoyed due to his position at the palace. Their arms brushed. The touch of silk against her bare arm left her trembling with unassuaged needs.

      Lauren was so aware of him, she scarcely noticed where they were driving. Before she knew it, they slowed down and stopped in front of a restaurant with a bistrolike facade. She heard Arabic music before he escorted her through a doorway of beads to the dark, smoke-filled interior.

      The place was filled with locals and a few tourists. They were seated at small square tables surrounding a dance floor with a band playing in the background. A heavyset man at the bar nodded to him and indicated an empty table beneath a balcony that ran along one side. No sooner had he seated her than a waiter came over.

      Rafi flicked her a probing glance. “What is your pleasure?”

      “A cola.”

      “Nothing stronger?”

      “Not tonight.”

      “So be it.” He said something to the other man in Arabic, then moved his chair next to her and put his arm around the back of hers. His closeness sent a wave of delight through her body. “You’re about to see one of our women belly dance,” he spoke next to her ear, disturbing her hair. “If she dances for me, it will be to make you jealous because you’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”

      Lauren smiled and lifted her eyes to him. “How many times have you made her jealous by coming in here with one of your favorites?”

      The waiter returned with two colas, followed by fanfare from the band, saving him from answering.

      A woman close to forty, and built along the lines of Farah, undulated onto the dance floor. Her loose black hair swung back and forth below her waist with hypnotic rhythm while her stomach and hips did the most amazing things.

      As Lauren looked around, she noticed that most of the audience was made up of men. This close to the woman, Lauren could understand their fascination. She danced with enough seductive expertise to restart a heart that had gone into cardiac arrest.

      Lauren cast a covert glance at Rafi whose gaze was riveted on the desert beauty with her red lips and flashing black eyes. Her spangles and bracelets made their own brand of music. The woman worked the floor. Near the end of her routine, she approached their table.

      The dancer flashed Lauren a look that could kill before her gaze settled on Rafi. While she put on a show for him alone, bending backward to give him a good long look at her, Lauren saw unfeigned desire in the woman’s eyes. It was so blatant, Lauren looked down. When the music ended, the dancer didn’t move away.

      He said something to the woman. She backed away slowly. But at the last moment before she disappeared, she shot Lauren a look of venom. Lauren grabbed her glass and drank all her cola at once.

      The second she put her empty glass on the table, she heard the band start to play a song she could identify. Rafi stood up. “Let’s dance.”

      In a euphoric daze, Lauren moved into his strong arms. She’d been in them before, but this time it was different. He held her so close, she could feel his hard-muscled body down to their feet. There was no place to put her arms but around his neck. As she did so, she felt his hands rove over her back and pull her up tight against him.

      “It’s a good thing we’re surrounded by people. Otherwise I would devour you,” he admitted with a frankness that caught her off guard. “Have I frightened you?” he whispered against her lips.

      “No.” Her voice throbbed, she needed him the way she needed air to breathe.

      “That’s good because I’m going to kiss you. It’s something I’ve wanted to do since the moment you woke up after the sandstorm.” So saying, his compelling mouth closed over hers.

      At the first taste of him, the room, the music, the people … everything faded into nothingness. All she was aware of was this man who’d set her on fire. She didn’t know where one hungry kiss ended and another one began. Filled with indescribable ecstasy, she never wanted this rapture to stop.

      Her grandmother had prophesied it. With the right man, the passion in Lauren would be unleashed. She knew now her whole life had been waiting for Rafi who’d brought her to life and was making her feel immortal. Malik’s words. Like grandfather, like granddaughter.

      A groaning protest escaped her swollen lips when he suddenly relinquished her mouth and put his hands on her upper arms to separate her from him. She watched him swallowing hard. His breathing sounded shallow. “We have to leave,” he said in a husky voice.

      Lauren couldn’t bear it, but when she saw everyone in the candlelit room looking at them, she realized she’d been so enthralled, she’d forgotten where they were. Another belly dance was about to begin. Lauren needed no more urging and hurried outside ahead of him.

      She climbed into the waiting limo without his help. When he got in, he sat opposite her. The car started moving. He eyed her for a long moment. “I’m not going to apologize for what happened in there.”

      “Did I ask you to?” she cried. “I’m the one who practically threw myself at you. Obviously it shouldn’t have happened, so please—let’s not get into a dissection of my emotional lapse.”

      They rode back to the palace in a silence punctuated with her heart pounding out an irregular rhythm. It would never go back to normal. When they arrived at the entrance, she grabbed her sweater lying on the seat and took off, anxious to reach her suite. Halfway down the first hall, his long strides caught up to her.

      She kept going and soon arrived at her destination. He followed her inside the doors. Without closing them he said, “I’ll say goodnight. In the morning after breakfast, Nazir will come for you and show you out to the limo where I’ll meet you.”

      Her hands made a fussing movement. “Won’t you have to be on duty?”

      “I’m making the time for you.”

      His words made her body go weak. “Thank you for taking me out tonight. I loved it, even if the dancer wanted to kill me.”

      “I believe she did. What’s interesting is that all the males in the room wanted to kill me. Goodnight.”

      To Rashad’s chagrin, the night turned out to be an endless one. After getting up, he paced the tiles, counting the minutes until he could be with her again. When it was time, he dressed in a non-royal Bedouin robe and sunglasses.

      Her eyes exploded like green fire when he slid into the back of the limo next to her a few minutes later. She wore tan pants and a white top. Her fragrance was always a feminine assault on his senses.

      “Good morning.” He kissed the corner of her mouth because he couldn’t help himself and felt her quiver. Their desire for each other was tangible. “I thought you might like to go shopping

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