Honor demanded that he protect her passion made him claim her
She had planned to be all business, but nothing could have prepared Sara for the strength and sensuality of Sheik Tariq Abdullah. When they met, she couldn't help but respond to the magnetism of this powerful man.
Born to rule, Tariq was used to being obeyed. When their convoy was brutally ambushed and the honey-haired American consultant Sara Reeves was attacked, he'd do anything to protect the woman at his side.
Trapped in the desert, surrounded by unseen enemies, he would fi ght to get Sara to safety…but they couldn't fi ght a desire hotter than the burning sands.
Read Excerpt :
Thirty years later
She’d been brought here to fail. It was expected of her. Hoped for.
Sara Reeves exited the conference room last, following the men, as was the custom in the region. Jeff had drilled that into her head. Whatever you do, commit no offense. He’d made it clear it was the most important thing he expected of her on this trip, the only thing.
“Let us go see the new well,” Ahmad Maluk, one of the three directors who represented MMPOIL at today’s meeting, said, gesturing toward the bank of elevators. “It’ll be a twenty-minute helicopter ride. Miss Reeves is welcome to stay at the hotel and rest if she so wishes.”
She wished they could meet the sheik. But they’d already been told that was not going to happen. “I’d love to see the well,” she said with respect, talking to no one in particular, not wanting to offend the men by addressing them directly.
“You rest,” Jeff said, solicitous as ever. “I can handle it.”
He could always handle everything—except the actual work. At schmoozing he was king. Hard to believe there’d been a time when she’d been in love with the man.
“Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow,” Husam, the man on Ahmad’s left, suggested. He was the youngest of the three Beharrainians, around thirty if that, with a sharp chin and nose, and even sharper eyes that he’d kept on Sara for most of the meeting.
She glanced away, hating the submissive gesture, but knowing that in this culture it was expected of women. One of the slew of oddities that made it difficult for her to stand on even ground for the negotiations.
They should have seen the well and been back by now, but Jeff had had stomach problems that morning and they’d had to delay their meetings. He had used her as an excuse, told everyone she’d been sick. The Arabs put a lot of stock in the strength of a man. If Jeff appeared weak for any reason it would be detrimental to their negotiations. And she could appear a little weaker, so as not to challenge their ideas of women and give offense. The world according to Jeff.
The best thing Sara had ever done for herself was to break their engagement. Unfortunately, untangling their business interests proved more difficult.
Jeff flashed her one of those smiles she had fallen for four years ago, before she’d realized that they, along with most things about him, were fake. “You could go shopping,” he said.
With admirable restraint, she kept herself from voicing the response forming on her tongue. “I’d prefer to see the well.”
Jeff shrugged with annoyance, but didn’t push further. Perhaps he’d given up on trying to manipulate her for the time being.
She zeroed in on the hallway to the left, where she’d seen a sign for a restroom on their way in. Since she knew they would be spending several hours in the desert today, she’d doubled her water intake. “Why don’t you go up? I’ll be with you in a second.” She nodded toward her destination.
Jeff scowled, as if her basic necessities were nothing but feminine whims he was forced to put up with.
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