CHALLENGED BY THE SHEIKH Page 6

  "Did you find your accommodations satisfactory last night?" he asked.

  "Yes. The bed's very comfortable. I was so tired I don't think a freight train running through the room would have woken me."

  "I am glad to know that."

  She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "It did get a little warm, though. I ended up completely tangled up in the sheets, those that I didn't kick off onto the floor."

  Raf considered how she would look in tangled sheets and he, too, grew very warm. "The thermostat is in the hail should you need to adjust the temperature."

  "That's good to know, otherwise I might have to sleep naked."

  If he did not leave soon, Raf was in grave danger of losing his dignity and his resolve to take this slowly. After pushing his chair away from the table, Raf stood. "I am retiring for the evening. Good night."

  Genie stared up at him. "I thought maybe we might take some time to talk about your syndication ideas."

  If he remained in her presence much longer, there would be no talking. "You should rest. I expect you to be at the stables by eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

  "Fine. I'll be there."

  "And you should wear long sleeves."

  "It's too hot for that."

  Raf was too hot. "Your skin has reddened, worse than yesterday."

  She held out her arms. "It's only a minor burn. In a few days it will turn into a tan. It always does." She raised her gaze to him. "Not all of us are blessed with sun-resistant skin."

  Raf decided she had been blessed with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. The most enticing body. He would do well to leave her now, before he could not. "I would still caution you to dress appropriately. I would not want you in pain. It will hinder your concentration."

  She propped her cheek on her palm. "I'll let you know if I'm hurting. That way you can be careful with me."

  "You can be assured I will always be careful with you."

  "Does the offer still stand?" she asked.

  "What offer?"

  "The one about me calling you on the intercom if I need anything."

  He hadn't forgotten the offer, but he'd hoped she had, otherwise he would not be able to resist her. "If you have an emergency, I will be available."

  "What qualifies as an emergency?"

  "I will leave that up to you."

  Before he forgot his promise of patience, Raf turned away and headed to his room. He took another cool shower in an effort to reclaim his control over his body and his mind, but it was no use.

  As he lay in his bed, totally nude and without any covering, he felt as though he was back in the desert surrounding his homeland of Amythra. His mouth was dry in contrast with his perspiring body. And he was as hard as he had been in a long time.

  With one arm thrown over his eyes, he slid his palm down his chest, pausing below his navel, intent on relieving the deep ache Genie's presence had created as he had in the past when he'd had no choice. This time he did have a choice. He would wait until he could alleviate his need with her, and he would when the opportunity presented itself.

  But his involvement with her would only entail physical pleasure. He was not open to the prospect of marriage again even though he had said as much to his younger brother, Darin—a man who had spent years traveling the world as a military tracker after suffering the loss of his fiancée, determined never to wed. Raf had made the false claim he was searching for another wife in hopes that Darin would go on with his own life. And Darin had done that two months before by marrying a woman whom he'd met on a mission as a member of the secretive Texas Cattleman's Club.

  Raf remained uncertain that he would ever be willing to do the same again. However, he was not averse to finding a woman who would willingly share his bed. A woman he considered a safe haven in many ways.

  Imogene Danforth could be that woman. She most likely would not add any complications or have unreasonable expectations of him. She had only one goal in mind—to be the best at her job. She would not settle for less. Nor would she be eager to settle into an ordinary life.

  That suited Raf Shakir very well. He had chosen his solitary existence for valid reasons he would not reveal to her. He had no intention of changing that in the immediate future. He would also endeavor to remain patient in his pursuit of Genie Danforth.

  * * *

  Four

  « ^ »

  "Call me, Danforth. This is an emergency."

  After listening to Sid's standard voice mail, Imogene tossed the cell phone onto the bed and fell back onto the mattress. Sid Kramer considered cold cappuccino an emergency. Most likely he couldn't find a client's file and he needed her to tell him where to locate it. She'd rather tell him where to go—someplace with a very strong furnace.

  She glanced at the gold-encrusted clock on the black marble mantel. Eleven o'clock at night. Whatever had Sid's boxers in a wad couldn't be remedied at this hour. She'd call him tomorrow morning. Or wait for him to call her back. Unfortunately, that would mean keeping her cell phone on her person during her riding lesson. Somehow she got the feeling that wouldn't sit well with the sheikh. Guess she'd just have to hide the phone or put it on vibrate. She might not be able to feel it vibrate, so that was out of the question. Besides, if it did ring, she'd invite Raf to go find it, all the more reason to take it with her tomorrow.

  Yes, dear Sid could wait until tomorrow, but Imogene did need to make another call that she considered important. She'd been at the stable for two days and her parents had no idea where she was or what she was doing. Normally she checked in on Sundays whenever possible, joining her family for the traditional family dinner, but yesterday she hadn't been there. She needed to let someone know where she was and why. Most likely her parents were still awake, watching the latest political coverage on Uncle Abraham's high-profile campaign.

  Picking up the cell phone again, she hit the speed dial for the private number. After two rings, her mother answered with a harried, "Hello."

  "Hi, Mom. It's me."

  "Imogene, where are you? When you didn't come for Sunday dinner and didn't call, I was worried."

  "I'm sorry. The time got away from me."

  "You work … too hard."

  "You sound winded, Mom. Have you and Dad been playing hide-and-seek in the wine cellar again?"

  Imogene could visualize her mother giving a one-handed sweep through her blond bob while strangling the phone with the other hand. "I swear, Imogene, I thought you would have forgotten that little incident by now."

  "Little incident?" Imogene teased. "You should be glad it didn't stunt my growth, seeing you and Dad making out like teenagers behind the wine racks."

  Her mother cleared her throat. "For your information, young lady, your father and I have just returned from a fund-raiser for Abraham."

  "Did it go well?"

  "Very well. Surprisingly, the news about your cousin Marcus didn't put too much of a damper on the event."

  Obviously, Imogene had fallen further out of the loop than she'd realized. "What about Marcus?"

  "You haven't heard? The police called him in today to question him. They think he has something to do with the explosion at Danforth's waterfront office. They're intimating he has ties to the Colombian cartel, if you can imagine that."

  Yes, she could imagine it. Too many people were bent on bringing chaos to Uncle Abraham's campaign. She wouldn't be a bit surprised if John Van Gelder, his opponent, was behind it all. "Mother, surely no one believes Marcus is involved. He's the legal counsel for Danforth & Co., for goodness' sake. The coffee business has been his life. He wouldn't risk ruining what the family has built by getting involved with criminals."

  "We all know that, sweetheart. I'm praying he's cleared soon. Abraham has enough stress to deal with as it is."

  By choice, Imogene thought, but didn't voice that. Abraham Danforth was basically a good man who'd made more than a few mistakes, some that were coming back to haunt him because his life had been laid bare due to
his interest in politics. At least he was trying to atone, something Imogene could definitely relate to. "I'll be hoping and praying, too. Right now I need to tell you where I am so you can reach me if need be."

  "You're not at work?"

  "No. I'm about fifty miles northwest of Savannah, on a horse farm."

  "A horse farm?" The shock resonated in her mother's tone, and not much shocked Miranda Danforth. "What on earth are you doing there?"

  "Believe it or not, I'm learning to ride a horse." And learning that the man a few doors down was temptation incarnate.

  "Oh, Imogene, be very careful."

  "You never seemed all that concerned about my brother riding horses."

  "That's different. Toby's a—"

  "Man?"

  "He's an expert. He knows what he's doing. I just don't want you to have an accident. I couldn't stand to lose…" Her mother's voice trailed away, but Imogene knew exactly what she'd intended to say—she couldn't stand to lose another daughter.

  The same old glimmer of guilt tried to worm into Imogene's thoughts, but she pushed it away. "I'll be fine, Mom. The man who's instructing me is taking it very slowly." Too slowly.

  "A man's teaching you? Is he handsome? Single?"

  "Both." And more.

  "What about his family? Does he have good genes?"

  He looked pretty darned good in jeans, a fact Imogene did not care to discuss with her mother. "Actually, he's an Arabian sheikh."

  "Royalty? That's wonderful."

  Time for a subject change, before her mother went into the "it's time for you to settle down" spiel. "The place is beautiful. You'd love it, especially the furnishings. Lots of antiques. The suite I'm staying in is wonderful. Raf has been an excellent teacher, very patient and accommodating."

  "Raf? You call him by his first name? Do I sense a little romance blossoming between the two of you?"

  Imogene could lie and say she wasn't interested, or she could just skirt the truth. "He's not husband material, Mom, if that's what you're thinking."

  "Then does he have a wine cellar?"

  "Mom!" Imogene couldn't stop her laughter and neither could her mother.

  After they'd sufficiently recovered, Miranda said, "It's so good to hear you laugh, Imogene. You don't do that nearly enough."

  "I laugh, Mom. Maybe not all the time, but I'm not the total stuffed shirt everyone thinks I am."

  "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I just think it's high time you do something more interesting than work nonstop. I can't even remember when you've taken a break. In fact, I don't remember you taking any breaks since you turned seventeen."

  Imogene had heard it all before, several times. "I know, Mom, but that goes along with my career choice."

  "I understand that, but you should have some fun for a change, if you know what I mean." The last sentence was said in a conspiratorial whisper, probably so Harold Danforth wouldn't hear his wife giving their daughter permission to be a bad girl.

  Imogene did not want her mother to know she was actually considering being that bad girl. "The riding is fun and fairly challenging. I'm enjoying it a lot. It's a nice break."

  "You need to enjoy more than that, if the opportunity presents itself. Just be careful you don't get your heart broken again."

  Little did her mother know, Imogene's heart was still intact. Wayne hadn't done that much damage, a sure sign that it hadn't been a match made in paradise. "I'll be very careful, Mom. Where's Dad?"

  "In the shower, waiting for me."

  That did it. Children were not supposed to know that their own parents still enjoyed shower slap and tickle. "Okay, I'm outta here before you start giving me details."

  "Hugs and kisses, sweetie. I'll tell Daddy you said hello."

  Imogene hung up the phone, overwhelmed by a sudden sense of longing. Her parents were fooling around, several of her cousins and her brother Jake had found love over the past few months, and she couldn't even get past the starting gate with Raf.

  Sliding from the bed, Imogene walked to the double French doors and opened them wide. She stepped onto the verandah and held out the silk robe, letting the cool air flow over her heated skin while listening to the cicadas shrilling in the distance along with the mournful hoot of an owl. But the breeze and the night sounds did little to soothe her sunburn or her suddenly sullen mood. She could really use some company, but that probably wasn't going to happen, at least not tonight. It hadn't happened last night, either. If this was Raf's idea of a slow seduction, she'd be ready to leave before they got to the good part.

  After going back inside, Imogene walked to the dresser and picked up the jar of homemade sunburn relief goo that Doris had given her after dinner. She unsealed the lid and took a quick sniff, expecting to detect the smell of vinegar, surprised that it smelled a little like lemons.

  Heaven only knew what was in the mixture. Doris didn't strike her as the witchy type—at least not anymore—so she would just assume the cream consisted of all natural ingredients, not eye of newt or a serpent's tongue.

  After discarding her robe, she scooped out a quarter's worth of the cream and rubbed it over her arms, immediately remembering Raf's hands on her during their afternoon ride the day before, something he didn't repeat today. Now wouldn't that be fun to have him rub the stuff all over her body? Wouldn't she be the foolish one to ask? Why not?

  After all, her mother had told her to have some fun, and having Raf's hands on her sounded like a whole lot of fun. She certainly didn't want to disappoint Mom.

  * * *

  "Raf, if you're not asleep yet, I could use your help."

  Raf stared at the intercom from the chair in the corner where he'd been attempting to read the latest horse breeding magazine. He'd given up on sleep knowing that his discomfort would continue to keep him awake for hours. Hearing Genie's voice had only served to make the situation worse.

  He walked to the intercom and depressed the button, believing it would probably be best to feign disinterest and tell her he had, in fact, been in a deep sleep. "Yes."

  "Oh. You are up."

  "I most definitely am now. What do you need?"

  "It's my sunburn. I know you said I shouldn't contact you unless it's an emergency, but I'm having trouble reaching my back to apply the lotion. Could you help me out?"

  Helping her out of her clothing immediately came to mind. But he supposed he could maintain his resolve for a short while in order to relieve her discomfort. In turn, he would probably only add to his own. "I will be there in a moment."

  Raf didn't bother wearing a robe. After all, she had seen him shirtless twice before. Unfortunately, he had only seen her fully clothed, yet that had not mattered in terms of his attraction to her. He hoped she remained clothed tonight, otherwise he was in grave danger of disregarding patience for the prospect of pleasure.

  He rapped twice on her door and only seconds passed before she answered. She did happen to be dressed, although Raf would not deem the clothing as modest. The short ivory silk robe gaped open, revealing a scrap of a matching silk gown that came to the tops of her thighs. The neckline scooped low, barely concealing the rise of her breasts but not the shading of her nipples that showed beneath the fabric. Yet he noticed immediately that her skin was reddened, much more so than it had been at dinner. And so was her nose, not that she had lost any of her appeal. But his resistance would be in peril if he did not remain detached.

  "Come in," she said and opened the door wide, allowing him entry. "I really appreciate this. I didn't realize how much sun I'd gotten or that the shirt left so much of my back exposed."

  She moved with grace to the dressing table, the robe flowing behind her. After retrieving a jar of white lotion, she turned and presented it to him. "Doris claims this will help. If you'll just put a little of this on my upper back and neck, I should be good as new until morning."

  Raf was as good as lost when she turned and shimmied the robe down her arms where it drifted to the floor in a pool of satin.
He could see in great detail the curve of her buttocks, enough to drive him near madness.

  She faced him again and said, "Where do you want me?"

  "I am not certain I understand the question."

  "Do you want me to stand?" She pointed at the black woven rug on the floor at the side of the bed facing the hearth. "How about I sit there?"

  Regardless of where she sat, he could not ignore her or the fire building in his groin. At least she had not suggested the bed. "The chaise would be adequate. Or perhaps the vanity stool."

  "Oh, come on. The carpet's wonderful. I've wanted to see if it's as soft as it looks since the first time I laid eyes on it."

  Raf was wondering the same about her. "I suppose the rug will do, if that is what you wish."

  Genie took her place on the floor, legs stretched before her as she faced the mirrored wall. He perched on the edge of the mattress behind her and took the lotion she offered over one shoulder, hollowing out a handful of the cream before setting the jar beside her on the floor. She tipped her head forward, giving him access to her slender neck and shoulders that had suffered the most exposure due to the shorter cut of her hair.

  Raf hesitated for a long moment, knowing that if he touched her—when he touched her—his control would begin to slip. And so did the straps of Genie's nightgown when she lifted her shoulders.

  "Something wrong, Raf?" Her voice was quiet, almost teasing, as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him. Most likely she did.

  "My hands are callused," he said. "I do not wish to hurt you."

  "I know you'll be gentle."

  If she only knew how badly he wanted to tear away her gown and pull her into the bed, then she might question his gentleness. Yet he took extra care as he rubbed the cream over her shoulders, finding her soft skin against his palms most pleasurable. He had greatly missed the texture of a woman's flesh, the scent of her hair, the frailness of her frame in contrast with his. Memories of another woman assailed him. Bitter recollections of a relationship that had begun with anger, then ended in disaster.

  Raf pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on these moments with a woman he wanted more than anything he could recall in the recent past.