Arabian Nights with a Rake Read Free Page A

mysticism the houris didn’t resist. This was an odd dream indeed.
    Or no dream at all . Alex’s eyes flew open. Oh the woman was very real, that part was in no doubt. He woke to find himself holding the sheikh’s favorite about the slender curve of her waist, the fullness of her breasts illumined through the thin cotton of her chemise by the flickering light of the tent’s lantern. The deep rose of her nipples had been no figment of imagination either. The chemise offered her very little protection against the proximity of his gaze and the lantern-cast shadows.
    The resistance hadn’t been feigned either. Her body was tense within his embrace, her eyes questioning and wary. Her plans for him had plainly gone awry. The very thought raised Alex’s well-honed sense of suspicion. He hadn’t survived this long on luck alone. In his world, nothing was freely given.
    Whatever she’d planned, it hadn’t been seduction, more was the pity. Alex slackened his grip and she backed away. For a moment, he feared she would bolt. He moved his grip to her wrist, shackling it easily with his hand.
    â€œWhat are you doing in my quarters?” His voice was harsh, demanding an answer. In the dim light he searched her for evidence of a weapon, to no avail. She was too scantily dressed to conceal anything on her person and her other hand was clenched into an empty fist.
    Her gaze shifted infinitesimally to the dark heap on the floor—a cloak most likely, a covering that had been discarded on purpose, leaving her virtually naked to his gaze. Another man might rethink the possibility of seduction, but Alex had been schooled in the Persian world where not all was what it seemed on the surface. His first inclination had been correct. She’d not come to seduce. If she had, she would not have resisted his overture. She would have entered the game boldly with his awakening.
    â€œRelease me.” She ordered, matching his demand with an admirable hauteur of her own. Definitely an Englishwoman, Alex decided. He could hear it in her voice and in her defiance. He’d known many women from many backgrounds in his time and had yet to meet any except perhaps the Americans who matched an Englishwoman in boldness when cornered.
    â€œI want answers.” He replied. “What have you come here for? Is it the custom of the sheikh to send uninvited women to his guests’ tents?” If she said yes, he’d know she was lying. It might indeed be the sheikh’s custom; he’d met tribes where the practice was not uncommon as an act of hospitality. But the sheikh would not send his favorite, not after what Alex had witnessed in Bassam’s response earlier that night.
    She tossed her magnificent length of hair in a haughty maneuver. “I came to talk.” She shot her eyes at his hand gripping her wrist.
    â€œNaked? I was unaware of that particular desert custom.” She might have been better off with the sent-by-the-sheikh-defense after all.
    Her blue eyes flashed. “It’s the truth.” She tugged against his grip in her irritation. “I have no reason to lie to you.”
    â€œI have no reason to believe you. Perhaps the sheikh has sent you to ferret out my secrets, my reasons for being here. It is convenient for you to come while I’m alone.” Alex raised a querying brow. “All the better for conquering and dividing, eh?”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous logic.” She spat. “Why would the sheikh send an Englishwoman to a compatriot? It would be tantamount to asking us to conspire against him.”
    â€œWould it?” Alex shrugged with feigned nonchalance, his mind rapidly sorting and discarding scenarios. What did she want that she would steal into a sleeping man’s quarters and stand before him virtually unclothed? “Perhaps the sheikh has offered you something of value in exchange for whatever services he’s sent you to