A Few Minutes Earlier
Qadir’s steely glance swept over the gathering crowd. He murmured appropriate responses when necessary to those seeking an audience with him, but behind his polite mask, disbelief raged with disappointment. His 'amirat khurafia had promised she would be here. His cell phone vibrated. He retrieved it from his pocket and read the message.
Nothing. She never showed up at LaClaire’s. Karam never received a call. It would appear your mystery lady has disappeared again.
Tarek didn’t add what he had been saying over and over to Qadir—that maybe it would be for the best to let this one slip through his fingers. He knew that Tarek was worried about the earlier attack and the role his mysterious woman had played in it. The two dead attackers had been street thugs. To date, Tarek couldn’t find a link to any of Qadir’s known enemies.
What was even more perplexing was how the woman knew what was going to happen so quickly. Was she part of the plan? She had disappeared before Tarek or the police could interrogate her. That, coupled with the fact she had no paper trail in a time when everyone did, cast even further doubt on her innocence.
He shoved his cellphone back into his pocket just as a feeling of awareness hit him. Turning, he scanned the room, searching for the source. He was on his second sweep when his eyes locked on a goddess walking into the room in a cream-colored cloak. Her face was shielded by the fur-trimmed hood, but he would know her anywhere.
She was looking at him as she handed her fur muff to the clerk standing near the door. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she lifted her slender hands and pushed the hood back to reveal her face. The hum of voices faded into the background as she reached up and unfastened the catch on her cloak. It fell from her shoulders.
He was sure that every man in the room had been waiting for the same thing, to see what she was wearing—or not wearing—under the cover of her cloak. His body hardened at the thought, and he came close to charging across the room, sweeping her into his arms, and carrying her off.
The vintage gown she was wearing was breathtaking in the way it accentuated her slender figure, molding to her curves, capturing the light as she stood still. For a moment, he wondered if she was real.
Her glorious dark hair cascaded in stunning silky waves down her back. He had fantasized about what her hair might look like, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality.
He started forward at the same time she did. His passion grew exponentially along with his need to announce to every man here that she belonged to him. The smile on her face lit up the room, and he feared some poor, misguided soul would make the fatal error of getting between him and the vision walking toward him.
When her lips parted to speak, he lost the last thread of his control and captured them in a kiss that could rival the greatest kisses ever filmed. She opened for him like a flower, beguiling him with her heat, her softness, her taste. Her soft moan sent triumph galloping through him, and when she wound her arms around his neck, he barely resisted urging her to wrap her legs around him too.
It took him several seconds to regain enough awareness of his surroundings to realize the scene they were creating. He reluctantly ended their kiss, only managing it because he promised himself this kiss was only the first of many more to come.
“I guess you like my hair,” she murmured.
Their ensuing banter did nothing to calm his raging libido. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. She admitted it. He breathed deeply and straightened.
He could be a civilized date for this extraordinary woman, he told himself. She deserved that much. He released her and stepped back.
When he led her into the crowd, though, he couldn’t help wondering how quickly he could get them out of here.
“Where did you get that dress?” he asked, his eyes on the soft mounds of her breasts.
She followed his gaze before tilting her head to look up at him with that smile of hers that drove him crazy. Qadir’s fingers tightened on her elbow when she made each of her breasts move. A choked laugh slipped from him, and he shook his head.
“It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it? I don’t always wear a bra, and in this thing, I definitely didn’t need one.”
“Do you enjoy torturing me?” he growled, looking around to see if anyone had overheard her.
Her delighted laughter was like a siren’s song. Every damn man within a twenty-foot radius who hadn’t already been mesmerized by the gorgeous nymph must be by now. He sent a glare around the room, ready to fight off anyone who got too close to her, but the party continued as usual, if slightly more hushed and with more glances sent their way. Odd. He couldn’t be the only one who felt like a madman in her presence.
“Did you know the mayor actually opened the door for me?”
He looked across the room to where the mayor was standing. The man’s eyes were glued on Qadir’s… on… ‘Wheels’. With frustration, Qadir looked at his stubborn, mystery woman who was now holding a glass of champagne.
“What is your name, 'amirati alkhayalia?” he asked.
She peered up at him through her lashes. “Is it that important? Everyone calls me Wheels,” she said.
He shook his head. “I do not want to call you Wheels when I am making love to you.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers.
Her pupils dilated, and she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.
“I like it when you call me 'amirati alkhayalia,” she murmured.
“Please, 'amirati alkhayalia.”
She studied his face before she motioned with her finger for him to come closer. He leaned forward. She slid her hand along his cheek and turned her head until her lips almost touched his ear.
“When you make love to me, you can call me Aimee,” she whispered.
She flicked the lobe of his ear with the tip of her tongue He drew in a sharp breath, and she stepped back, taking a sip of her champagne.
Her name flowed through his mind. He rolled it over his tongue. His eyes were drawn to her flushed cheeks. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t wearing any makeup. The realization tugged at his heart. She was a woman who screamed ‘take me as I am or not at all’.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
Her eyes widened, and she looked around. “But… the party hasn’t even started yet, has it?”
He took the glass from her hand and brought his lips close to hers, his eyes blazing with need.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he challenged softly. “Tell me you’d rather stay here all night where I can only tease us both, instead of stroking every tantalizing inch of you beneath your dress.”
Aimee gasped. She decisively took her glass from Qadir and placed it on the tray of a passing server. Smiling with anticipation, Qadir cupped her hand in his, and turned her toward the main entrance.
He pulled his cell phone out and pressed a button. “Pull the car around now,” he ordered.
He signaled the clerk to bring their coats, and he valiantly ignored the overeager clerk’s lingering looks at Aimee. Qadir politely accepted their property from the kid who didn’t even look old enough to shave.
“My men will shield you as much as possible as we leave. Keep moving forward and get in the limousine,” he instructed.
She nodded, pulling the hood of her cloak up and taking her fur hand muff. “You know, we could avoid all of that if we just go down two floors, take the staff entrance to the side alley, and have your guy pick us up on the next block over,” she suggested.
He stopped, looked at her, and shook his head. “Another question. You’ll have to explain how you know that,” he said. He redirected his driver to follow her instructions.
Gafar, one of his bodyguards, emerged from the crowd. Three more appeared once they left the ballroom. He kept his hand pressed against the small of Aimee’s back. Her shorter legs kept up with him and his men.
When she lifted the skirt of her dress, he caught sight of the delicate, beaded ankle boots she was wearing. His lust surged again. There was not one damn thing about this woman that didn’t drive him crazy.
Staff moved out of the way as they bustled through the corridors. Aimee directed them, pointing to a door when he thought they had reached a dead end. They emerged from the lower level. A short walk had them entering the street on the opposite side of the building.
Omar, one of the four bodyguards with him, rushed forward and opened the door of the limo. Aimee disappeared inside. Qadir followed, falling into her arms when she twisted on the seat and opened them.
He gathered her close. Her soft laughter made him feel warm and light-hearted. These were emotions he usually only experienced when he was riding along the coast or out in the desert. Once again, he was drowning in her unusual eyes.
“I want you,” he stated.
“I know.”
She pulled his head down and captured his lips. While she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling it free of its binding, he groaned, sliding his hand down her side, searching for the hem of her dress. When the length of silk seemed to go on forever, he rumbled with frustration, but the obstacle did clear his head for a moment. He ended their kiss, pulling her into a sitting position.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up and looking around.
“Several things,” he chuckled, kissing her again. “The first time we are together, I don’t want it to be in the backseat of a limousine like a couple of teenagers. I want to savor you. Second, once I finally get you out of that dress, I don’t think it will be as easy to get it back on. If my bodyguard opens the door and you’re not fully clothed, I’m afraid there might be violence,” he ruefully added.
She wiggled her nose playfully. “I doubt many teenagers have a limo to make-out in.” She laughed, glancing around the interior. “You know, this seat alone is bigger than the bed I sleep on. Of course, it is only me most of the time. You definitely wouldn’t fit.”
The intense jealousy that swept through him at the thought of Aimee with another man was familiar by now, though tonight was the first time he’d ever felt it. It had never bothered him with his previous lovers. In fact, he enjoyed the talents of an experienced lover. He would just have to make sure that he wiped the memory of her previous lovers from her mind. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he kissed her palm.
“Then it is a good thing my bed will be large enough for the both of us,” he said.
“A very good thing,” she agreed with a smile.