Ryshia Kennie

Desire In The Desert: Sheikh's Rule


Скачать книгу

a woman more sensual than any he’d met before and just keep her warm, or for that matter a woman he’d been attracted to since he’d first set eyes on her.

      He tipped her face up and kissed her long and hard, his tongue tasting her, relishing it all; the sweet taste of the cinnamon gum she’d chewed just after awakening, the hot feel of her tongue as it mated with his, the sleek feel of her skin, all awakening a desire in him that ached to be appeased.

      He took a deep breath and reminded himself of why he was there, that she was his employee, as she had reminded him—a partner for now. She couldn’t be anything else. And none of that mattered. For the beat of his heart told another story.

      “I want you,” he whispered as if all the kisses that had come before hadn’t already told her that.

      “You’re my boss, and my career...”

      She looked at him with a desire that had him using all his willpower to hold back.

      The rise of her breast seemed no more than a lover’s kiss, a soft caress against his upper arm. He reached out tentatively, his palm brushing the seductive softness.

      “I want to be so much more,” he whispered. “The rest doesn’t matter.”

      Her breath was a small purr of pleasure as her hand slipped under his shirt, skimmed the side of his ribs and moved down as if his words had given her permission.

      His hands dropped lower, pulling her tight against him, flipping onto his back with her on top as he kissed her with every ounce of enthusiasm and feeling she gave him. His hand grazed the edge of her breast as it seductively pressed against him and his want pressed against her thigh.

      She shuddered.

      “You’re still cold.” He raised himself on an elbow, reaching for the blanket that had dropped to the side.

      She took his wrist, even as she shook her head. “Don’t stop.”

      He rolled over so that he was on top of her, blocking the cold tendrils of the breeze that seemed to find its way inside the tent. Her curves were pressed more tightly against him. His hand slid under her T-shirt, undoing the front hook of her bra, freeing her breast into his hand. One hand cupped a breast while the other pulled the T-shirt over her head, the bra followed.

      She moaned as her nipple tightened beneath his fingers.

      He took one nipple in his mouth, his tongue tormenting her in tiny caresses as he toyed with one and then the other. She twisted, rising up as if to meet his hardness, as if that would get them what they both wanted sooner.

      “I can’t wait,” he said thickly as he unzipped her pants; his hand slipped under her panties to find her wet. She quivered as his fingers parted her.

      Soon she was bare beneath him and her hand was reaching for his zipper.

      His hand slipped between them, covering hers, stilling it.

      He stood, took off his pants and was again pulling the blanket up around them, as their body heat was trapped by the blanket and combined with the heat of desire finally succeeded in warding off the desert chill.

      “Now,” she said as she rose to meet him and clung to him as he entered her as quickly as he’d seduced her. Yet, in the hot and cold of the desert, where life was both tenacious and fragile, somehow it felt right.

      But it was only when she rolled over and took command did he wish that time was not a short commodity, because for blissful minutes the nightmare that had been over fifty hours in the making was soothed twice in the most blissful way possible.

      “I’m sorry,” she said when she laid by his side sometime later.

      It was a strange comment and one he supposed he should have been making, but he wasn’t sorry. He’d been attracted to her from the beginning—wrong place and wrong time, it didn’t matter—he wanted this to happen.

      “I’m not,” he said and there was a hoarse edge to his voice. He sat up and snapped the top off one of their water bottles, took a long, thirsty swig and then offered it to her. “It was bound to happen.”

      “What do you mean by that?” she demanded as she stood, naked and unconcerned, her hair loose, caressing the edges of her breasts, her face flushed from his kisses. “I was just sorry we didn’t have more time.”

      “Really?” Desire raced hot and wild through him. “You’re damn sexy, Kate,” he said. “And I think I’m falling for you. But if you don’t get dressed, we’ll never leave this tent.”

      Minutes later, dressed, she sat beside him.

      “We need to focus,” he said. “We’re going in after Tara and I don’t want to see any casualties, at least, not of anyone I care about.”

      Anyone I care about.

      Those words seemed to hang between them, meaning so many things both spoken and not.

      “I know you hate waiting,” she said, trying to forget his words that had the power to change so much. “But I really don’t think they have a clue what they’re doing. I’m beginning to think, like we talked about last night, that we should wait until tonight. It will throw them off, which is better for us.”

      “If we at least get into position before nightfall, I can live with that.” He stood. “Let’s start getting this packed up so we’re ready to move.” He turned around. “And, for the record, I’d do it again,” he said.

      A slow smile spread across her face. “For the record—we will.”

      “Darn sure of yourself,” he said as he leaned over to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

      She twisted so that the kiss landed on her lips and she took it to the next level. The kiss was hot, openmouthed, ripe with desire and the promise of more. But she pulled away as his body began demanding to take charge.

      “I am very sure of myself,” she replied. “Now, let’s get your sister.”

       Chapter Eighteen

      Wednesday, September 16th, 11:00 a.m.

      “Let’s do this,” Kate said as she pulled out her gun, checked the chamber and holstered it. She turned to look at him with zeal for the assignment alive in her eyes. There was a confidence about her that was all about succeeding, and that confidence was contagious.

      They’d spent the earlier part of the morning scouting the terrain backing into the oasis. There had been no sign of the last man who had shot at them, but they’d been prepared if he had showed up. When they got back to the tent there was nothing to show that it had been disturbed. No footprints, no evidence that anyone, other than them, had been there.

      “Looks like our guess was right. I doubt if their sniper even knew what he was shooting at. He couldn’t see much in the storm,” Kate said. “They know someone’s here. I don’t think they had a visual, but sound travels. It’s clear that they had a watch.”

      “I think you’re right,” Emir agreed.

      “It’s rough terrain. I doubt if we’ll be able to make anywhere near the average 2.4 miles an hour. So...” She looked at her watch.

      “We leave in an hour,” he said as he pocketed the compass, loaded his Glock and stuffed two spare magazines into his pocket. He shifted his knapsack where she knew he had another couple of magazines, just as she did in hers. They were both prepared to hold off an army if necessary.

      “Let’s do it,” Kate said less than an hour later.

      “Kate,” he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her hot, brief and full of promise.

      They both knew this would be the only reference to what was growing between them. After, it would be all business.

      And