The Sheikh's Undoing by Sharon Kendrick Read Free Book Online Page B

See?’
    She pushed open a door and Tariq stepped inside and looked around, glad to be distracted by something other than the erotic nature of his thoughts.
    It was a room like no room he’d ever seen. A modestly sized iron bedstead was covered with flower-sprigged bedlinen, and on top of one of the pillows sat a faded teddy bear. In the corner was an old-fashioned dressing table and a dark, rickety-looking wardrobe—other than that, the room was bare.
    Yet as Tariq walked over to the window he could see that the view was incredible—overlooking nothing but unadulterated countryside. Hedgerows lined the narrow lane, and primroses grew in thick lemon clusters along the banks. Beyond that lay field after field—until eventually the land met the sky. There was absolutely no sound, he realised. Not a car, nor a plane—nor the distant trill of someone’s phone.
    The silence was all-enveloping, and a strange sense of peace settled on him. It crept over his skin like the first sun after a long winter and he gave a sigh of unfamiliar contentment. Turning around, he became aware that Izzy had walked over to the window to join him. And she was looking up at him, her eyes wide and faintly uncertain.
    ‘Do you think you could be comfortable here?’ she questioned.
    Contentment forgotten now, he watched as she bit her lip and her teeth left behind a tiny indentation. He saw the sudden gleam as the tip of her tongue moistened thespot. Her tawny eyes were slitted against the sunlight which illuminated the magnificent Titian fire of her hair. Wasn’t it peculiar that before today he’d never really noticed that her hair was such an amazing colour? And that, coupled with the proximity of her newly discovered curvaceous body, made a powerful impulse come over him.
    He forgot that she was sensible Isobel—the reliable and rather sexless assistant who organised his life for him. He forgot everything other than the aching throb at his groin, which was tempting him with an insistence he was finding difficult to ignore. He wanted to kiss her. To plunder those unpainted lips with a fierce kind of hunger. To cup those delicious globes of her bottom and find if they were covered with cotton or lace. And then …
    He felt the rapid escalation of desire as his sexual fantasy took on a vivid life of its own and the deep pulse of hunger began a primitive beat in his blood. For a moment he let its tempting warmth steal into his body, and he almost gave in to its powerful lure.
    But Tariq prided himself on his formidable willpower, and his ability to turn his back on temptation. Because the truth was that there wasn’t a woman in the world who couldn’t be replaced.
    What would be the point of seducing Isobel when the potential fall-out from that seduction could have far-reaching consequences? She’d probably fall in love with him—as women so often did—and when he ended it, what then?
    When she’d told him about her father he’d seen a streak of steel and determination which might indicate that she wasn’t a total marshmallow—but still hecouldn’t risk it. She was far more valuable to him as a member of staff than as a temporary lover.
    He saw that she was still waiting for an answer to her question, the anxious hostess eager for reassurance, and he gave her a careless smile. ‘I think it will be perfectly
adequate
for my needs,’ he answered.
    Isobel nodded. Not the most heartfelt of thanks, it was true—but who cared? She was feeling so disorientated that she could barely think straight. Had she imagined that almost
electric
feeling which had sizzled between them just now? When something unknown and tantalising had shimmered in the air around them, making her blood grow thick with desire? When she’d longed for him to pull her into his arms and just
kiss
her?
    Apprehension skittered over her skin as she tried to tell herself that she didn’t find Tariq attractive. She
didn’t
. Her innate fear of feckless men had always