Sheikh's Hired Mistress Read Free Page B

Aziz’s fingers and arched her neck to give him access, which he boldly claimed. There would be no question, if anyone had been looking, that she was his for the evening. Not that anyone was looking, and that in itself was freeing, too. Everyone here was their own audience, and no one else’s. Everyone here, including the two of them, was immersed in their own private party.
    So they danced on, fueled by the adrenaline and exuberant joy that dancing brings, causing the heart to lighten and the joints feel loose and eager, until Aziz touched her hair and leaned close to her ear.
    “Come with me!”
    Laine turned her head, uncertain if she’d heard him right. The music was so loud. Aziz pulled on her hand, and she turned to follow him. Quickly, she recognized where they were headed. She knew this club and the owner well. She had been assigned to the recent redesign. They wove through the crowd and then up a steep winding flight of metal stairs that led to the second level and the private, restricted rooftop area. The security guard by the large door that led outside gave Aziz a nod and opened it for them. There was only one other couple there, sitting off to the side and talking quietly.
    “Have you been here before?” Laine asked.
    “Sometimes, when I am in the city.”
    She drew in the fresh air. Lights were strung along the top of the awning, creating a cozy, twilight effect. In the center of the patio a large fountain babbled away. She smiled, remembering how she’d convinced the owner to have it installed. Laine walked slowly toward the seating area where Aziz reclined, his arm spread over the back of the sofa and one leg crossed over the other at the ankle. She could imagine him lounging exactly that way upon a golden throne with red velvet seats, as men on either side fanned him.
    “Come closer.” Aziz smirked and gave a quick jerk of his chin to summon her forward.
    Laine took a seat next to him, but left half a seat of space between them. He smiled at her, lounging back languidly like a great cat lazily observing prey he could grasp at any time. With a raised hand, he caught the attention of a waiter who stood nearby the other couple and ordered him to bring them some water.
    “You are having a good time now?”
    Laine smoothed her hands over her legs, banishing a few wrinkles from her dress. “It’s much better than the party, I’ll admit. I didn’t think I was the clubbing type of girl.”
    “What type of girl do you think you are?” he asked.
    “The workaholic type.” She lifted her eyes and pursed her lips knowingly. “The type that your type usually ignores.”
    Aziz smiled and caught her hand. He stroked his thumb over her fingers. “And what type of man am I? You’ve figured me out so soon?”
    “Don’t you know yourself?” Laine teased. “You're the ruthless playboy, aren’t you? You could’ve brought any woman from that party here.”
    “Could have, yes,” Aziz agreed. “Would have…?”
    “Are you going to deny it? How many women have you seduced away from parties? How often do you take a woman in your limo and show her the time of her life?” Laine challenged.
    Aziz rubbed his fingers over his lips. “Perhaps a few,” he replied demurely.
    “A few.” Laine narrowed her eyes.
    “Perhaps more than a few.” Aziz shrugged and held his hands out. “I am who I am. Are you disappointed with this?”
    “No, I—” Laine turned as the waiter put down two cold glass bottles of water. “Thank you!”
    Aziz looked up at the waiter briefly before turning to Laine again. Laine watched the waiter leave.
    “Do sheikhs not say thank you?” she asked.
    “He was doing his job,” Aziz said flatly. “Americans are so strange. You are generous and kind to strangers, but cold to everyone else.”
    “How are we cold?” Laine shook her head with a laugh.
    Another shrug. “When we meet, you talk about your job, about things that don’t matter, but not your family. I think you