Читать книгу Sleeping with the Sheikh: The Sheikh's Bidding / Delaney's Desert Sheikh / Desert Warrior - Brenda Jackson - Страница 14

After lunch Sam headed to the stable to resume the repairs. Andrea had only made a brief appearance in the house, grabbed a sandwich then returned to work the horses in the round pen, barely acknowledging him or her aunt.

As Sam neared the barn, he noted the red truck belonging to the man named Caleb parked in the drive. He approached the entrance slowly as he heard the sound of Andrea’s laughter, pausing outside to listen. He acknowledged that he had no right to intrude, yet he couldn’t stop his eavesdropping.

“Dinner would be great,” Andrea said. “But it will have to be in a couple of weeks. Chance will be home and my guest should be leaving.”

Her guest? Sam experienced a pang of anger that she considered him only a guest, then admonished himself for such foolishness. He was a guest, not a member of the family. Only a friend, a stranger to his son. Her lover for the time they had remaining, if he had any say in the matter.

That thought sent him forward, but he hesitated once more when the man began to speak. “I’ll give you a call next week, unless you decide you want to get together sooner.”

Sam could only imagine what this Caleb had in mind for Andrea, and he couldn’t contain the spear of jealousy hurling through him. That jealousy thrust him into the barn to find Andrea and Caleb facing each other at the stall containing the filly.

Andrea turned and met Sam’s gaze, then smiled. “Speak of the devil, here he is now.” She gestured toward him. “Caleb, this is Sam, a family friend.”

Sam reluctantly accepted the handshake offered by the cowboy but did not return his smile.

“Nice to meet you, Sam,” Caleb said. “Andi tells me you’re some kind of a prince.”

“A sheikh,” he said as politely as his current mood allowed.

“That’s great.” He gave his grin to Andrea. “Keep up the good work, Andi. I’m pretty pleased with you so far.”

Sam wondered what other pleasure he had in mind for Andrea. Forcing the thoughts away, he moved aside and gladly let the man take his leave.

When they were alone once again, Sam lost the tenuous grasp he’d placed on his control. “You will be dining with him after I leave?”

Andrea picked up a plastic box containing supplies and walked into the tack room. “Looks that way.”

Propelled by his insane envy, Sam followed her inside. “Will Chance be in attendance?”

“Yes,” she answered curtly.

“Does our son like this man?”

“He’s not been around him all that much.”

“Then you have no way of knowing if this Caleb will be an acceptable suitor.”

Andi dropped the box at her feet and turned, leaning against the saddle set atop the stand. “I personally don’t think Caleb is an appropriate suitor, because he’s married and has two kids.”

“He has a wife?”

“Yes, he has a wife, and she’ll be coming with us. Are you satisfied now?”

Sam was still reluctant to trust the man. “I’m admittedly concerned about his motives regardless of his marital status.”

Andrea rolled her eyes to the ceiling, then turned her back and began oiling the saddle. “Look, Sam, Caleb is a nice guy. He’s really done me a favor by letting me train his horse, and that’s the only thing he’s asked of me.”

“To this point.”

She faced him, twisting the rag in her fist. “I don’t know why you keep thinking he has other things in mind. You don’t even know him.”

He knew his type, and he knew how tempting Andrea could be. She was tempting him greatly now with the fire in her eyes and the clothes she wore, a sleeveless rag of a shirt cut short at her midriff, giving him a glimpse of her navel, where her jeans rode low at her shapely hips. The cowboy might be wed but he was still a man. And Sam had no right to judge anyone, considering what he had done with Andrea last night, knowing he was bound to another. Considering that he had not yet had his fill of her, as if he ever would.

“I will not mention it again,” he conceded, though he knew he would think about it often in the days to come, as well as when he returned to Barak. He would think about her often, wondering if she would find her way to another man’s arms, another man’s bed.

But until that time she was his, and although it would be inadvisable to pursue a physical relationship with her, he was not strong enough to resist. He had no intention of resisting. If all he could have was a few stolen moments, then so be it.

Sam could only stare at Andrea as she cleaned the saddle, bending down now and then to retrieve supplies for the task. His body raged with need when the denim pulled tight over her hips, revealing the shape of her buttocks. Her hair was secured and bound high on her head in a band, leaving the back of her slender neck fair game. Sam imagined kissing her there. Kissing her everywhere.

“Do you need my assistance?” he asked.

She sent him a coy look over her shoulder. “I’ve cleaned so many saddles I could probably do it blindfolded.”

“I assume you could do many things blindfolded.”

Andi froze with her hand midswipe when she felt the heat of Sam’s body at her back. A pleasant tremor crept up her spine as he tugged the bandanna from her back pocket then snaked it across her shoulder and over one breast before drawing it up slowly.

“Should we see if it is true that you are skilled without the benefit of sight?” His voice was a warm, midnight breeze at her ear.

Before she could respond, he placed the cloth over her eyes and tied it, throwing her into darkness, throwing her body into a carnal tailspin.

“You’re really going to make me clean the saddle blindfolded?” she asked, her voice little more than a croak, knowing that’s not what he’d meant at all.

Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her around and nudged her back against the saddle. “I propose that we ignore the saddle for more pleasant endeavors.” He softly kissed her with an added sweep of his tongue across her lower lip. “I want you to concentrate on what I am doing to you.”

A wave of heat ignited low in her belly then alighted between her thighs. “I’ve been working, Sam. I’m hot and sweaty.” A feeble protest that she hoped he would ignore.

“So am I,” he said. “But my hands are clean.”

His hands were wonderful as he skimmed them down her sides, grazing her breasts. “What about Tess?” She worried they might get caught, yet that prospect heightened her desire.

“Tess has gone to the market,” he whispered as he laved his tongue over her earlobe. “Riley will not return until sundown.”

When she clutched his arms to secure herself, he pulled her hands away and held them at her sides. “Do not touch me yet,” he said.

Andi gripped the metal stand to remain upright when her knees threatened to give way. She stood and waited for the longest moment until Sam caught her hands once more and placed a kiss on each palm be fore resting them against his face.

“Touch me now, Andrea. Remember me.”

How could she ever forget him? Heavens, she had tried, but without success. She was tired of trying.

On that thought, she explored his wonderful face with her hands, a face that had invaded her dreams in great detail so many nights before—details deeply engrained in her memory and her heart. She traced a finger over the strong plane of his nose, the bow of his beautiful, full mouth, the solid jaw covered by a spattering of whiskers. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him now—he would always be with her, branded into her brain.

Gliding her hands down the column of his throat, she continued on to his chest, pausing when she realized he had removed his shirt, much to her delight. His skin was damp and hot beneath her palms as she set a course across the crisp hair and on to his nipples that peaked into tiny pebbles beneath her fingertips. She traveled down his abdomen, and his muscles clenched when she circled a finger in his navel. Intending to continue her erotic exploration, she slipped her fingertips beneath the band of his jeans, only to have him stop her as he gripped her wrist.

“Raise your arms,” he said.

As if a master puppeteer was controlling her, she complied, leaning back against the saddle for support while he tugged her shirt over her head, leaving her completely naked from the waist up. He ran a fingertip across her chest from shoulder to shoulder, much the same as she had done to him. He traced her breasts with sensuous strokes of his fingertips, with agonizing slowness as he decreased the circles when he reached her nipples.

“You are very beautiful in the daylight,” he said in a deep, slow-burn voice that complemented his avid touch.

“This isn’t fair,” she said on a broken breath. “You can see me but I can’t see you.”

“You only need to feel at the moment.”

No problem, Andi thought as the heat of his mouth engulfed her nipple. She bucked at the pleasurable sensations, giving everything over to feeling. He paid equal attention to both breasts as she molded her hands to his scalp and followed his movements. Then suddenly he raised his head and commanded, “Turn around.”

She did as she was told, bracing her hands on the saddle to regain her ground. Sam tracked his way down her spine, first with his thumbs then with his lips, leaving a trail of wonderful chills in his wake. Tuned in solely to Sam’s sensual torture, it took Andi a moment to realize he had slipped one hand between her and the saddle. She felt the downward track of her zipper and went weak with anticipation, and weaker still when he lowered the denim to her thighs, taking her panties with it. A wisp of warm air whisked over her now-exposed bottom, but it was nothing compared to the heat Sam generated as he pressed more kisses to her lower back, then kissed her bottom.

Andi lowered her chin to her chest, savoring the feel of his mouth, gasping at the tiny nip of his teeth that he soothed with his tongue.

“A very nice dessert,” he added with a low chuckle that sounded from deep within his chest.

She couldn’t argue that point. This was much better than a hot-fudge sundae with whipped cream and nuts. Better than anything she had imagined to this point.

After working his way back up, he cupped his palm between her thighs while feathering kisses across the back of her neck, yet he only toyed with the cover of curls. Overcome with the need for him to pacify the insistent throbbing, she pressed against his hand in encouragement.

Andi couldn’t stifle the moan of frustration when he took his touch away. “Patience,” he scolded. “I will see to your needs but first I must see to something else.”

When she heard the sound of his zipper followed by the rattle of paper, Andi realized that Sam had planned this all along. Planned to make her mindless with wanting despite his initial opposition. And more important, he was ruining her for other men. Convincing her with every kiss, every touch, that no one would ever measure up to him. But she really didn’t care. She only cared about right now, the absolute need, the undeniable ache that could only be relieved by this particular prince.

He was soon flush against her back, returning his hand to the place that wept for his attention. This time he delved into the damp folds until he found her center to caress and cajole with firm yet tender fingertips. She was soon caught up in a whirlwind of sensory details surrounding her—freshly cut hay, mingled with the scent of leather and Sam. She heard his shallow breathing and the sounds of horses chomping their hay. But all sounds, all smells disappeared as he fondled her straight into oblivion.

The climax began to build and build, and she only knew that she wanted him inside her now. Reaching back to grasp his hips, she pulled him forward, and he entered in one sharp, enthralling thrust, bringing about an earth-moving climax.

She turned her face toward him and accepted his deep, penetrating kiss. His tongue captured the rhythm of his body as he explored her eager mouth while he moved inside her, stifling her gasps as he filled her completely.

He continued to stroke her even after her release had subsided. “Again, Andrea.”

“I’m not sure—”

“I am,” he insisted. “You will.”

Amazingly, she did, moments before Sam found his own release. He gripped her hips, and a steady groan escaped his mouth as she absorbed the weight of his body against hers. Burying his face between her shoulder blades, he held her tightly. She couldn’t tell who was shaking more, him or her. They were so close it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. So close that Andi wanted to stay this way forever.

“You take me to limits I have never known before,” he whispered. “I have never known anything such as this.”

Neither had Andi. And she would probably never know anything like it again.

Reality took hold when she suddenly realized that someone had pulled up into the drive. And, considering the familiar sound of the noisy tailpipe, she knew exactly who that someone might be.

“Tess!”

Shoving Sam away with a push of her hips, she yanked the bandanna from her eyes and pulled her pants back up. She fumbled for her shirt, now covered in sawdust and straw, and pulled it over her head.

Awareness finally hit Sam but he seemed in no hurry. “Get dressed,” Andi hissed. “She might come in here.”

“I assume she would put away the groceries first,” he said, taking his sweet time redoing his jeans.

She shoved his shirt at him. “Your assumptions could be wrong, and we’d have the devil to pay.”

He had the gall to grin.

Sam Yaman was much too confident, Andi decided. Too practiced in his efficiency, she thought, when he calmly tossed the condom and package into the trash bin then covered it with a feed sack.

He turned his deadly grin back on her. “All evidence has been disposed of, and no one will know what deeds have been done in this room.”

Andi glanced down at her disheveled clothes and could only imagine how she would look to her aunt. “Guess I could tell Tess that we had an unexpected tornado come through the barn.”

He kicked the door closed, taking Andi by surprise. “We could lock out the world and stay in here the remainder of the afternoon.” He stalked toward her and pulled her into his arms. “After all, we still have much to learn about each other.”

“I’d be willing to spend a lifetime having you teach me.”

His expression went serious. “If only that were possible.”

Suddenly chilled, she backed out of his embrace. “Don’t look so worried, Sam. I told you I don’t expect anything. I was just spouting off.”

“You have no idea how much I wish that we could be together.” Her heart soared, then fell once again when he declared, “But that is not possible.”

She propped a hand on her hip and glared at him. “I’ve always believed that anything’s possible.”

“Not in this instance, Andrea.”

She forced back the unexpected tears burning hot behind her eyes. “Why? Because of your duty? Don’t you realize you could be happy here with us? I’ve seen your happiness, Sam. You smile more now. You’re enjoying yourself, especially with Chance. You might as well be wearing a blindfold if you don’t see it, too.”

He kicked the barrel containing the feed, causing a loud thump that would surely give them away if anyone were nearby. “Of course I am happy here. I have always been happy here. But that does not change my circumstance. I have to see to my obligations.”

How many more times would she have to hear this? “Obligations to whom? Your father?”

“To my…” He looked away. “Yes, to my father. To my people.”

Andi swiped away one rogue tear. “Well, great. I guess that doesn’t include your son.” Or me.

“I have told you I will provide—”

“Money. I know. But that won’t buy you his love, Sam. Your money and your station won’t buy you happiness, either.”

Without a word he yanked open the door and left Andi alone with her sorrow once more. If only he knew how much she loved him. If only he would consider the possibilities. But something was keeping him from doing that, and she wondered if there was more to his resistance than his duty. Something he was failing to tell her.

She intended to find out the sheikh’s secrets, even if it was the last thing she did before he left.

Sam spent the coming days working on the stable with Riley, but he spent the nights in Andrea’s arms. She had proved to be an uninhibited lover, wild in the ways that she pleased him. Each time they were together, he discovered something new about her, acknowledged that she was forever imbedded in his soul.

He engaged in a constant battle between guilt and desire, love and responsibility. His desire and love for Andrea had won out, at least for now. When he took Maila as his wife—if he took her as his wife—he was sentencing himself to a loveless union. And when he took her to his bed, he would forever imagine Andrea.

That would be doing a grave disservice to Maila. She was a good woman who deserved a man who could give more of himself. An educated woman who, like him, agreed to the union out of a sense of obligation to their families. Yet if Sam ended the arrangement, in doing so he would encounter his father’s scorn.

He would have to decide what would be best for everyone involved, a decision that would not come easily. And in a scarce few days, he would be leaving his son, and Andrea.

After his shower, he walked downstairs to find Andrea on the phone. She worried her bottom lip as she spoke quietly. “Okay, sweetie. You sleep tight now, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sam seated himself on the sofa and gestured for Andrea to join him after she replaced the phone in its cradle. The concern in her expression could not be denied, even when she smiled at him.

“That was Chance,” she said. “He wanted to make sure we’re going to pick him up in the limo.”

Sam returned her smile to mask his own worry. “And you assured him that we would?”

“Yes.”

Sam patted the seat beside him. “Come tell me what is troubling you.”

Instead of taking her place next to him, she curled into his lap. He held her tightly, savoring the scent of her shower-damp hair and the softness of her fragile body encased in satin.

“I’m worried about Chance,” she said.

“Is he not well?”

She glanced up at him, then tucked her head beneath his chin. “He says he’s fine, but he sounds tired.”

“I would assume he is tired.”

“I hope that’s all it is.”

He brushed a kiss over her forehead and stroked her hair. “What would lead you to believe otherwise?”

“Mother’s intuition. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid like always.”

“You are only concerned for his well-being, Andrea.”

She sighed. “I know. But when he was almost three, he climbed up on a fence rung and fell backward. He seemed to be okay, but then the next morning he complained about his shoulder. I took him to the doctor and found out he’d broken his collarbone. I should’ve taken him that night.”

Sam tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “It was a simple mistake, Andrea. It does not mean that you don’t care for him.”

“I realize that, but I felt horrible, like a bad mother.”

“You are a wonderful mother,” Sam said adamantly. “I could not have picked a better mother for my child.”

She touched her lips to his cheek, stirring his body and his soul. “Thanks.” After studying him a long moment, she said, “Now tell me what’s bugging you.”

Sam should be surprised that she so easily saw through him, but he wasn’t. It seemed that over the past week they had become totally tuned in to each other’s moods, each other’s needs. Perhaps it had always been that way. Perhaps it always would.

“I’m afraid I have some less-than-satisfactory news.”

Andrea’s frame stiffened in his arms. “What is it?”

“I spoke with my father earlier today. I must return to Barak on Thursday.”

“You weren’t supposed to leave until Sunday.” She stared at him with fire and frustration in her eyes. “So he snaps his fingers and you come running. Wish I knew his secret.”

“It is complicated, Andrea. I do not have the luxury of coming and going as I please.”

She slid off his lap and claimed the place at the end of the sofa. “I’m sorry for you, Sam. It must be awful to have that kind of burden, to not have free will.”

Anger gripped Sam and he struggled to temper his fury. “I have free will. I also have responsibilities.”

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I know, I know. But what about your responsibility to your child? You’ve barely spent any time with him. Is this what he’ll have to count on in the future, a father who may or may not come to see him?”

Sam sat forward and lowered his head. “I have been considering that. I can only promise that I will try to be here as much as possible.”

Andrea sighed. “We don’t have much time to decide when to tell him, do we?”

They had little time to be together, as well. “No, we do not.”

Andrea rose from the sofa. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Sam stood. “What time will we leave tomorrow morning to pick up Chance?”

She folded her arms across her breasts and faced him. “Not we, Sam. You.”

He frowned. “I do not understand.”

“I’ve decided you should pick him up by yourself. That way you can have time alone with him to get to know him.”

“But you—”

“I’ll see him when you get back. Besides, I’ll have him with me for the rest of my life. You, on the other hand, have very little time.”

Sam realized the difficulty of her decision and the heartache he was causing her. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Do you wish me to tell him—”

“No, I don’t want you to say anything about you being his father. I think I should be there.”

“I will honor your request.”

She started toward the stairs. “Good night, Sam.”

“I will join you in a few moments.”

She turned to him once again. “I’d like to sleep alone tonight. I’m exhausted.”

In her own way she was already preparing to let him go, that much Sam knew. “I will do what you ask, Andrea, but I would like to spend this last night with you, before Chance returns.”

“It’s okay, Sam,” she said in a weary tone. “We’ve both known all along this wasn’t forever. Might as well end it now.”

He wanted to shout that he wanted no part of this ending, that he wanted to forever be by her side, in her bed, in her life. Instead he turned his back and said, “I wish you pleasant dreams, Andrea.”

Her sharp, mirthless laugh stopped him cold. “I don’t believe in dreams, Sam. Not anymore.”