The Sheikh's Secret Heir Page 4
“Now I understand. You’re a traditionalist when it comes to marriage before the baby carriage.”
She did not truly understand at all, nor would she without knowing his goal. “I am a pragmatist. It is immaterial to me whether someone marries or not before giving birth. I strongly believe that one should consider the atmosphere into which they are bringing a child. In my opinion, thrusting someone so young into the spotlight could be detrimental to their well-being.”
Her gaze drifted away momentarily before she tossed the magazine back in the bag. “I suppose since everyone knows your business when you’re in the spotlight, that’s definitely a risk.”
He took a drink of the wine and set it into the holder built into the seat’s arm. “I would not wish to be placed under a microscope on a daily basis.”
“But you have no problem having your face splashed across financial publications. And yes, I’ve seen a few of those covers featuring your smiling face.”
He briefly wondered if perhaps someone in the royal family had known of his existence prior to their introduction. “Where did you come by this knowledge?”
“The internet. I did some research before you visited the palace the first time.”
“An order from the king?”
“No. I took the initiative on my own. I make a point to learn about guests of the royal family.”
He relaxed somewhat. “What else do you know about my life?”
She shrugged. “Not all that much, other than you’re in the top fifteen on the list of the wealthiest men in the world.”
“Top ten.”
“Forgive me for my ignorance. I also know that you are somewhat of a philanthropist. I read an article where you opened an orphanage in Mexico City a while back.”
A pet project he had felt compelled to complete for personal reasons. “There was a need, and I had the means to fulfill that need.”
“I’m sure the tax write-off doesn’t hurt.”
He bristled at her continual questioning of his motives. “I have global holdings in several countries with varying tax structures. I assure you that compassion, not company write-offs, drives my charitable efforts.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding somewhat contrite. “I tend to be wary of men with an overabundance of money.”
“Why is that?”
“Personal reasons.”
He suspected he knew what those reasons might be. “Who was he?”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
The way she shifted in her seat and looked away indicated she chose to be evasive, confirming his conjecture. “Who was the wealthy man who broke your heart?”
“What makes you think this has anything to do with a man?”
“I can sense these things.”
She sighed, then hid a yawn behind her hand. “Yes, my attitude stems from a former relationship. Actually, he was my fiancé. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not discuss it. I didn’t sleep well last night and I’d like to take a nap.”
He vowed to revisit the topic at a later time. “We have still have hours before we arrive in Cyprus. That should give you ample time to rest. You will find the sleeping quarters at the rear of the plane.”
“I really don’t need a bed to take a nap. I’ll be fine right here.”
He could think of more favorable ways to use the onboard bed. “If you are concerned that I might attempt to join you, put your mind at ease. I do not require any sleep.”
“I highly doubt you’d want to join me to sleep.”
He returned her unexpected smile. “You know me well.”
“Not as well as I hope to know you before the end of this trip.”
Though he found her comment somewhat curious, he decided not to assume too much. “If you’re determined to refuse the offer of my bed, push the button on the right arm to release the footrest. The one to your left will recline the back.”
After complying, Kira stretched out, turned on her side and closed her eyes. “Wake me up in thirty minutes.”
Tarek finished off the wine and poured another glass as an afterthought. Rarely did he imbibe aside from the occasional social setting due to his need to remain in absolute control. Yet as he returned to his seat, he acknowledged the woman before him was as intoxicating as a shot of straight Russian vodka. In sleep, she looked innocent, yet he had experienced anything but innocence during their interlude. She had been a willing lover, exciting and experimental. Remembering those blissful moments now prompted a building pressure in his groin, causing him to bring his attention back to Kira.
With her upturned nose and the delicate line of her jaw, he saw little that indicated she would hail from Bajul, aside from the slightly golden color of her skin. Evidently her mother’s Canadian roots had taken genetic precedence over her father’s Middle Eastern heritage. Regardless, her beauty could not be denied and he had given up on doing that very thing.
During this adventure, he did hope to find out more about her, including the details of the miscreant who had emotionally destroyed her and filled her with distrust. More important, he needed to prove he was not the kind of man to fill a woman with false promises. Eventually he might take a wife and settle down, but not until he achieved his ultimate goal of building more wealth and power. Enough wealth and power to match the Mehdis. What better way to exact revenge for his denied birthright?
* * *
Kira awoke long enough to depart the plane that had been secured in a private hangar, only to enter an extravagant black limousine and drift off once again en route to Tarek’s Cyprus home. She came back into consciousness a while later, mortified to discover her cheek resting on his shoulder. Had she snored? Drooled? Hopefully none of the above.
After straightening and scooting over, Kira adjusted the hem of her white pencil skirt, which had climbed up her thighs to a point that bordered on indecency. “I’m sorry,” she muttered as the car navigated the drive. “I guess I needed more sleep than I realized.”
“No apology necessary,” he replied as the limo came to a stop. “I enjoyed having you so close. Granted, I was somewhat concerned that I might have to carry you into the house, although that would not have been a great burden.”
Maybe not a burden for him, but a total embarrassment for her. “I’ll endeavor to stay awake for the remainder of the evening.”
When the driver opened the door, Kira realized the sun had already begun to set, yet enough light existed to witness the grandeur of the white, expansive estate with manicured tropical gardens and a four-car garage. She accepted Tarek’s offered hand as he helped her out of the car and followed him silently up the stone path. A man dressed in a white suit greeted them on the front porch, then opened the heavy wooden double doors wide. “Welcome back, Mr. Azzmar.”
“It is good to be back, Alexios,” he replied. “Please see to it that Ms. Darzin’s luggage is delivered to her quarters immediately.”
“As you wish, sir,” the man said with a nod before making his way to the car.
Tarek turned to Kira and gestured toward the open doors. “After you.”
When Kira stepped inside the foyer, she was taken aback by the ultramodern décor that directly contrasted with Tarek’s newly built traditional mansion in Bajul. White and steel-gray leather sofas and chairs, accented with black and turquoise pillows, were set about the massive living room, accompanied by several tables comprised of glass and chrome. An enormous curved television hung above a fireplace surrounded by gray glass tile. Yet the most impressive sight lay beyond the open glass wall that revealed the panoramic view of the blue backlit pool, centered between two stone walls, and the Mediterranean Sea, which stretched out as far as the eye could see.
“Amazing,” Kira said. “An absolute paradise.”
“I am
pleased that you are pleased,” Tarek replied from behind her.
Pleasure wasn’t her goal, a fact she had to remember before she let the atmosphere cloud her common sense. “I’m ready to work when you are,” she said as she faced him.
“Tonight we will relax and simply enjoy each other’s company.”
That could involve going somewhere she didn’t want to go. Correction. She shouldn’t go. “I slept the entire trip, Tarek. I have no problem getting started on my duties.”
“We will begin first thing in the morning with a visit to the resort. In the meantime, I will show you to your room, where you can freshen up before dinner.”
She saw no point in arguing with him because she couldn’t deny she was starving—both for food and for his touch. She could partake in one, but not the other. Not unless she wanted to forget her reasons for being there had nothing to do with falling into bed with him again.
After Tarek started down a corridor to her right, Kira followed behind him past several rooms, all the while recalling his perfect butt, which she unfortunately couldn’t see now, due to the length of his gray jacket. But she had seen that tempting bottom before in all its glory, and his well-toned legs, his ridged abdomen and his impossibly broad shoulders. She remembered in great detail clinging to those shoulders before running her palms down his back, exploring the pearls of his spine before spanning the width of his rib cage, then traveling down to the curve of his buttocks and curving her hand between his thighs...
“I hope you find it to your liking.”
Kira snapped back into reality when she realized Tarek had opened the door to a room. Stepping forward, she peered inside to find her luggage resting on a copper bench at the foot of the king-sized bed covered in a silky white spread, and another set of glass doors leading out onto a private veranda dotted with aqua chaises and white wicker tables. And yet again, another stellar view of the ocean and a private beach.
“It’s definitely to my liking,” she said as she stepped into the suite. “But are you sure I’m not putting you out of your room?”
Tarek moved to her side, barely two inches separating them. “My quarters are on the opposite side of the house.”
Too bad—her first thought. A good thing—her second. At least she wouldn’t have to run into him on a regular basis, should she choose that course. Right now, after catching a whiff of his heady cologne mixed with the salty scent of the sea, she would like to do more than run into him.
Clearing the uncomfortable hitch in her throat, she turned to him and smiled. “Is there a bathroom nearby where I can take a quick shower before dinner?”
“As you wish,” he said after making a sweeping gesture toward two bifold doors.
Kira followed his lead and peeked into the spa-like bathroom, equipped with a copper-tiled shower that had enough room and spray heads to wash an army all at once. And beside that behemoth shower, a jetted soaker tub butted up against a narrow window, which provided another incredible view of water and wide-open sky. “I suppose I can make do with this.”
Finally, Tarek gave her a half grin. “If it is not up to your standards, you are welcome to use my facilities. As I believe I mentioned, I have a steam shower as well as a sauna.”
Getting naked anywhere near this gorgeous man would be a recipe for danger. Sensual, hot danger.
Determined to put some space between them, she moved to the white marble vanity and ran her hand over the countertop. “Actually, I was joking. It’s so huge I’m afraid I might seriously get lost in here. If I don’t show up in an hour, please send a search party.”
“Should you go missing for any length of time, I would not want the staff to see you in a state of undress. Therefore, I would seek you out since I have already seen you naked.” Before she could respond, Tarek began backing to the door. “I will inform the chef to have dinner prepared in one hour.”
“All right,” she said. “Where do you want me to go?”
He sent her a smoldering look that seared her from forehead to feet and all parts in between. “I fear if I answer that with complete honesty, you will not join me for our meal this evening.”
She frowned. “Where exactly is the dining room?”
“You will find it beneath the stars.”
With that, he exited the bath, leaving Kira alone entertaining fantasies she had no good cause to have. She immediately returned to the bedroom to unpack her suitcase and select something to wear. After her lingerie was tucked into a drawer, she stuffed the bottle of prenatal vitamins beneath it, determined not to give away her secret before she had a chance to reveal it to the master of the house. If she revealed it. That still remained to be seen.
She then withdrew a lightweight, sleeveless violet dress from the clothing someone had already hung in the wardrobe and selected silver bangle bracelets with matching hoop earrings from the jewelry bag in her overnight case. A fitting choice for a romantic evening. She suddenly slammed on the mental brakes following that ill-advised thought. She wasn’t looking for romance. She was on a fact-finding mission involving the prospective father of her child. She didn’t want moonlight and roses. She wanted to remain grounded. She didn’t need to be starry-eyed. She needed to see the real Tarek Azzmar clearly.
She also had to shower quickly in order to get something in her stomach before she became queasy, just another reminder of the baby growing inside her. Hopefully she wouldn’t give anything away by eating like she hadn’t eaten in a month.
* * *
Kira’s appetite both surprised and pleased Tarek greatly. During their dinner on the veranda, she had consumed the majority of the cheese and olive appetizers, as well as the entire Greek salad, and had left only a scarce bit of the moussaka before pushing her plate aside.
He leaned back and studied her euphoric face. “Did you save room for dessert?”
She dabbed at her mouth with the black cloth napkin and sighed. “Heavens no. If I eat anything else, I won’t be able to move.”
When the server brought out a tray of baklava, Tarek waved him away. “That will be all, Alexios. Tell Leda she has done an excellent job, as usual.”
When the man nodded and scurried away, Kira turned her attention to the sky. “It’s such a beautiful night.”
The evening had nothing on her beauty. He strayed from decorum to glimpse her breasts, which were enhanced by the low neckline of her dress. He had not remembered them being so full, but on that evening when they’d made love, he had not taken enough time to inspect them. Perhaps he would have the opportunity to remedy that. Perhaps he would be fortunate enough to use his mouth on them, the tip of his tongue to...
“My eyes are up here, Tarek.”
He had been caught red-handed stealing a questionable look. “My apologies. I was simply admiring your neck. I did not notice how delicate it is until you cut your hair.”
“And you are an incredibly bad liar.”
Luckily she had chastised him with a smile—a cynical one. “As you have pointed out in the past, I am a man with normal desires.”
“Obviously you’re a breast man.”
Breasts, legs, buttocks. “I admire all aspects of the female body. I consider it a work of art.” And if he could capture on canvas the way she looked now—her hair ruffling in the breeze, her slender hand supporting her cheek, her mesmerizing eyes—he would be a renowned artist, not a businessman.
“Speaking of art, do you think we could visit a museum while we’re here? Or maybe make a trip to see the Tombs of the Kings?”
She was a master at changing the subject. Almost as good as he. “If time allows. I have much to do to ready the resort for its grand opening before summer’s end. I hope that you will assist me in the endeavor.”
Her frown did not take away from her beauty. “Surely you’re not all work and no play.”
She leaned back and picked up her glass. “So you hang out in this house when you’re not working? Not that there would be anything wrong with hanging out here. I mean, it’s a beautiful place. How long have you owned it?”
“I do not own it. I have been leasing it the past eighteen months.”
“That must be costly.”
“Twenty thousand euros per month.”
She sputtered on the water before quickly recovering. “You might as well buy it at that cost.”
“If that is what you wish, consider it done.”
Now she looked perplexed. “Why would you make such a large purchase based on my opinion?”
He had actually made an offer to the owner not long ago. “I would like to believe you might return with me in the future. Solely a pleasure trip of course, with ample time to play.”
Kira rimmed her fingertip around the edge of the glass, inadvertently causing a tightening in his groin. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you? We’re not certain how well we will get along in the next two weeks.”
He had no doubt they would get along well, at least from a physical standpoint. “If my memory serves me correctly, we spent quite a bit of time together since our first meeting. We have engaged in several enlightening conversations.”
“Yet during those times, we talked about world politics and the weather, but not once did you mention anything about your upbringing.”
With good reason. “I told you I grew up in Morocco and both my parents are deceased.”
“What were your parents like?”
“They were decent people.” He could say that with honesty about the man who raised him, yet he had his doubts about his mother after learning of her indiscretions.
“Do you have any siblings?” she asked.
That possibility was still open to verification, and something he was not prepared to divulge. “Would you like to take a swim?”