Delaney's Desert Sheikh (3 page)

“I'm a man.”

“So? What's that supposed to mean?”

“Evidently it means nothing in this country. I have observed more times than I care to count how the men let the women have control.”

Delaney narrowed her eyes. “You consider having equal rights as having control?”

“Yes, in a way. Men are supposed to take care of the women. In your country more and more women are being educated to take care of themselves.”

“And you see that as a bad thing?”

He gazed at her and remembered her sassiness from the first day and decided the last thing he wanted was to get embroiled in a bitter confrontation with her. He had his beliefs and she had hers. But since she had asked his opinion he would give it to her. “I see it as something that would not be tolerated in my country.”

What he didn't add was that the alternative—the one his stepmother used so often and had perfected to an art—was for a woman to wrap herself around her husband's heart so tightly that he would give her the moon if she asked for it.

Taking another sip of coffee, Jamal decided to change the subject and shift the conversation to her. “Tell me about your family,” he said, thinking that was a safer topic.

Evidently it's not, he thought when she glared at him.

“My family lives in Atlanta, and I'm the only girl as well as the youngest in the third generation of Westmorelands. And for the longest time my five brothers thought I needed protecting. They gave any guy who came within two feet of me pure hell. By my eighteenth birthday I had yet to have a date, so I finally put a stop to their foolishness.”

He smiled. “And how did you do that?”

A wicked grin crossed her face. “Since I never had a social life I ended up with a lot of free time on my hands. So I started doing to them what they were doing to me—interfering in their lives. I suddenly became the nosy, busy-body sister. I would deliberately monitor their calls, intentionally call their girlfriends by the wrong name and, more times than I care to count, I would conveniently drop by their places when I knew they had company and were probably right smack in the middle of something immoral.”

She chuckled. “In other words, I became the kid sister from hell. It didn't take long for them to stop meddling in my affairs and back off. However, every once in a while they go brain dead and start sticking their noses into my business again. But it doesn't take much for me to remind them to butt out or suffer the consequences if they don't.”

Jamal shook his head, having the deepest sympathy for her brothers. “Are any of your brothers married?”

She stared at him, her eyes full of amusement at his question. “Are you kidding? They have too much fun being single. They are players, the card-carrying kind. Alisdare, whom we call Dare, is thirty-five, and the sheriff of College Park, a suburb of Atlanta. Thorn is thirty-four and builds motorcycles as well as races them. Last year he was the only African-American on the circuit. Stone will be celebrating his thirty-second birthday next month. He's an author of action-thriller novels and writes under the pen name of Rock Mason.”

She shifted in her seat as she continued. “Chase and Storm are twins but look nothing alike. They are thirty-one. Chase owns a soul-food restaurant and Storm is a fireman.”

“With such busy professions, how can they find the time to keep tabs on you?”

She chuckled. “Oh, you would be surprised. They somehow seem to manage.”

“Are your parents still living?”

“Yes. They have been together for over thirty-seven years and have a good marriage. However, my mother bought in to my father's philosophy that she was supposed to stay home and take care of him and the kids. But after I left home she found herself with plenty of spare time on her hands and decided to go back to school. Dad wasn't too crazy with the idea but decided to indulge her, anyway, thinking she'd only last a few months. I'm proud to say that she graduated three years ago with a graduate degree in education.”

Jamal set his empty coffee cup aside. “For some reason I have a feeling that you influenced your mother's sudden need to educate herself.”

Delaney chuckled. “Of course. I've always known she had a brilliant mind—a mind that was being wasted doing nothing but running a house and taking care of her family. You know what they say. A mind is a terrible thing to waste. And why should men have all the advantages while women get stuck at home, barefoot and pregnant?”

Jamal shook his head. He hoped to Allah that Delaney Westmoreland never had the opportunity to visit his country for an extended period of time. She would probably cause a women's rights revolution with her way of thinking.

He stretched his body, tired of the conversation. It was evident that somewhere along the way Delaney had been given too much freedom. What she needed was some man's firm hand of control.

And what he needed was to have his head examined.

Even now his nostrils were absorbing her feminine scent, and it was nearly driving him insane. As she sat on the steps, her drawn-up knees exposed a lot of bare thigh that the shorts she was wearing didn't hide.

“Do you have female doctors in your country?”

He looked at her when her question pulled him back into the conversation. It was the same conversation he had convinced himself a few moments ago that he no longer wanted to indulge in. “Yes, we have women that deliver babies.”

“That's all they do?” she asked annoyed.

He thought for a second. “Basically, yes.”

She glared at him as she pursed her lips. “Your country is worse off than I thought.”

“Only you would think so. The people in my country are happy.”

She shook her head. “That's sad.”

He lifted a brow. “What's sad?”

She drew his gaze. “That you would think they are happy.”

Jamal frowned, feeling inordinately annoyed. Had she given him the opportunity, he would have told her that thanks to Fatimah, a highly educated woman herself, things had begun to change. The women in his country were now encouraged to pursue higher education, and several universities had been established for that purpose. And if they so desired, women could seek careers outside of the home. Fatimah was a strong supporter of women enjoying political and social rights in their country, but she was not radical in her push for reform. She simply used her influence over his father to accomplish the changes she supported.

He moved from the rail. It was time to practice his kick-boxing, but first he needed to take a walk to relieve the anger consuming his mind and the intense ache that was gripping the lower part of his body. “I'm going down to the lake for a while. I'll see you later.”

Delaney scooted aside to let him walk down the steps, tempted to tell him to take his time coming back. She watched as he walked off, appreciating how he filled out his jeans from the back. There was nothing like a man with a nice-looking butt.

She pulled in a deep breath and let it out again. Every time he looked at her, directly in her eyes, sparks of desire would go off inside of her. Now she fully understood what Ellen Draper, her college roommate at Tennessee State, meant when she'd tried explaining to her the complexities of sexual chemistry and physical attraction. At the time she hadn't had a clue because she hadn't yet met a man like Jamal Yasir.

Standing, she stretched. Today she planned to explore the area surrounding the cabin. Then later she intended to get more sleep. For the past three weeks she had studied all hours of the day and night preparing for final exams and had not gotten sufficient rest.

Now that she could, she would take advantage of the opportunity to relax. Besides, the less she was around Jamal, the better.

 

Jamal kept walking. He had passed the lake a mile back but intended to walk off as much sexual frustration as he could. The anger he'd felt with Delaney's comment about the people in his country not being happy had dissolved. Now he was dealing with the power of lust.

He stopped walking and studied the land surrounding the cabin. From where he stood the view was spectacular. This was the first time since coming to the cabin that he had actually taken the time to walk around and appreciate it.

He remembered the first time Philip had mentioned the cabin in the Carolinas, and how the view of the mountains had been totally breathtaking. Now he saw just what his friend had meant.

His mind then went back to Delaney, and he wondered if she had seen the view from this spot and if she would find it as breathtaking as he did. He doubted she had seen anything, since she rarely left the confines of her bedroom for long periods of time.

Jamal leaned against a tree when he heard his cell phone ring. He unsnapped it from the waist of his jeans and held it to his ear. “Yes, Asalum, what is it?”

“I'm just checking, Your Highness, to make sure all is well and that you don't need anything.”

He shook his head. “I'm fine, but I have received an unexpected visitor.”

“Who?”

He knew that Asalum was immediately on alert. In addition to serving as his personal secretary, Asalum had been his bodyguard from the time Jamal had been a child to the time he had officially reached manhood at eighteen.

He told him about Delaney's arrival. “If the woman is being a nuisance, Your Highness, perhaps I can persuade her to leave.”

Jamal sighed. “That won't be necessary, Asalum. All she does most of the time is sleep, anyway.”

There was a pause. Then a question. “Is she pregnant?”

Jamal arched a brow. “Why would you think she is pregnant?”

“Most women have a tendency to sleep a lot when they are pregnant.”

Jamal nodded. If anyone knew the behavior of a pregnant woman it would be Asalum. Rebakkah, Asalum's wife, had borne him twelve children. “No, I don't think she's pregnant. She claims she's just tired.”

Asalum snorted. “And what has she been doing to be so tired?”

“Studying for finals. She recently completed a medical degree at the university.”

“Is that all? She must be a weak woman if studying can make her tired to the point of exhaustion.”

For some reason Jamal felt the need to defend Delaney. “She is not a weak woman. If anything she's too strong. Especially in her opinions.”

“She sounds like a true Western woman, Your Highness.”

Jamal rubbed his hand across his face. “She is. In every sense of the words. And, Asalum, she is also very beautiful.”

For the longest moment Asalum didn't say anything, then he said quietly, “Beware of temptation, my prince.”

Jamal thought about all that he had been experiencing since Delaney had arrived. Even now his body throbbed for relief. “Your warning comes too late. It has gone past temptation,” Jamal said flatly.

“And what is it now?”

“Obsession.”

A
fter being at the cabin a full week, Delaney finally completed the task of unpacking and put away the last of her things. With arms folded across her chest she walked over to the window and looked out. Her bedroom had a beautiful view of the lake, and she enjoyed waking up to it every morning. A number of thoughts and emotions were invading her mind, and at the top of the list was Jamal Yasir. She had to stop thinking about him. Ever since their talk that morning a few days ago, he had been on her mind although she hadn't wanted him there. So she had done the logical thing and avoided him like the plague.

A bit of anger erupted inside of her. In the past she had been able to school her thoughts and concentrate on one thing. And with that single-minded focus she had given medical school her complete attention. Now it seemed that with school behind her, her mind had gotten a life of its own and decided Jamal deserved her full consideration.

She was always consumed with thoughts of him. Intimate thoughts. Wayward thoughts. Thoughts of the most erotic kind. She wasn't surprised, because Jamal was the type of man who would elicit such thoughts from any woman, but Delaney was annoyed that she didn't have a better handle on her mental focus. Even with medical school behind her, she was still facing two years of residency, which would require another two years of concentration. An intimate relationship with any man should be the last thing on her mind.

But it wasn't.

And that's what had her resentful, moody and just plain hot, to the highest degree. Deciding to take a walk to cool off—like she really thought that would help—she grabbed her sunglasses off the dresser. She stepped outside of her room only to collide with the person who had been dominating her thoughts.

Jamal reached out to grab her shoulders to steady her and keep her from falling. She sucked in a quick breath when she noticed he was shirtless. Dark eyes gazed down into hers making her knees go weak, and the intensity of her lust went bone deep.

The rate of her breathing increased when his hand moved from her shoulder to her neck and the tip of his fingers slowly began caressing her throat. She could barely breathe with the magnitude of the sensations consuming her. The chemistry radiating between them was disturbingly basic and intrinsically sexy, and it was playing havoc with all five of her senses.

The sound of thunder roared somewhere in the distance and jolted them. He slowly released his hold, dropping his hands to his side. “Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you,” he said, the sound a throaty whisper that hummed through every nerve in Delaney's body before flowing through her bloodstream. And from the look in his eyes she could tell he wasn't immune. He was as aware as she was of the strong sexual tension that held both of them in its clutches.

“That's okay since I wasn't looking where I was going,” she said softly, also offering an apology and inhaling deeply to calm her racing heart. She watched as his gaze slowly raked over her. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a crepe halter top. Suddenly she felt more naked than covered. More tensed than relaxed. And hotter than ever.

“Delaney?”

With the sound of her name spoken so sensually from his lips, her gaze locked with his, and at the same time he began leaning down closer to her. It was too close. Not close enough. And when she felt the warm brush of his breath against her throat, she responded softly, in an agonized whisper, “Yes?”

“It's going to rain,” he said huskily.

She saw flickers of desire darken his gaze. “Sounds that way, doesn't it?” she managed to get out with extreme effort. She licked her lips slowly, cautiously. She was no longer aware of her surroundings, and barely heard the sound of the first drops of rain that suddenly began beating against the rooftop. Nor did she feel the tartness of the cold, damp air that suddenly filled the room.

All of her thoughts, her total concentration, was on the imposing figure looming before her. And she didn't consider resisting when he gently pulled her to him.

Go ahead, let him kiss you,
a voice inside her head said.
Indulge yourself. Get it out of your system. Then the two of you can stop acting like two animals in heat. All it will take is this one, single kiss.

A deep, drugging rush of desire filled Delaney. Shivers of wanting and need coursed down her spine. Yes, that's all it would take to get her head back on straight. A sexual attraction between a man and woman was healthy. Normal. Fulfilling. She just never had time to indulge before, but now she was ready. Now, with Jamal, indulging was necessary.

That was her last thought before Jamal's mouth covered hers.

 

Jamal took Delaney's lips with expertise and desperation. The need to taste her was elemental to him. Relentlessly his tongue explored her mouth, tasting and stroking, slowly moving beyond sampling to devouring. And when that wasn't enough he began sucking, drawing her into him with every breath.

He slipped his hand behind her head to hold her mouth in place while he got his fill, thinking it was impossible to do so, but determined to try anyway. He was at a point where he was willing to die trying.

He had kissed many women in his lifetime but had never felt a need to literally eat one alive. Never had any woman pushed him to such limits. He had been raised in an environment that accepted sex and intimacy for what they were—pleasure of the most tantalizing kind and a normal, healthy part of life.

But something deep within him believed there wasn't anything normal about this. What could be normal about wanting to stick your tongue down a woman's throat to see how far it could go? What was normal about wanting to suck her tongue forever if necessary to get the taste he was beginning to crave?

He pressed his body closer to hers, wanting her to feel him and know how much he desired her. He wanted her to know he wanted more than just a kiss. He wanted everything. He wanted it all.

And he intended to get it.

Jamal's fingers were insistent as they moved down her body to come to rest on her backside, gently pulling her closer. His body hardened at the feel of the tips of her nipples pressing against his bare chest through the material of her top. The contact was stimulating, inflaming, arousing.

And it was driving him insane.

The area between his thighs began to ache and get even harder. Grasping her hips he brought her more firmly against him, wanting her to feel his arousal, every throbbing inch. He knew she had gotten the message when he felt her fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as he continued to devour her mouth.

Moments later, another loud clap of thunder, one that seemed to shake the entire earth, broke them apart. Delaney gasped so hard she almost choked. She bent over to pull air into her lungs, and seconds later, when she looked up and met Jamal's hot gaze, she felt her body responding all over again.

One kiss had not gotten him out of her system. That thought made her aware that unless she backed away, she would be in too deep. Already she felt herself sinking, drowning, being totally absorbed by him.

She backed up and he moved forward, cornering her against the wall. “I don't think we should have done that,” she said softly, unconvincingly. Her voice was shaky, husky.

Jamal was glad they had done it and wanted to do it again. “It's been a week. We would have gotten around to kissing eventually,” he said in a low, raspy voice. His body was still radiating an intimate intensity, although they were no longer touching.

“Why?” she asked, her curiosity running deep. When she saw the way his eyes darkened, a part of her wished that she hadn't asked him. He was looking at her in that way that made certain parts of her body get hot. And at the moment she couldn't handle the heat and doubted that she ever would.

“Because we want each other. We want to have sex,” he replied, bluntly and directly. Although the words sounded brusque even to his ears, it was the truth and when it came to satisfying his body he believed in complete honesty. In his country such things were understood, expected and accepted.

Delaney's body trembled with Jamal's words. He'd made having sex sound so simple and basic. She thought of all the guys she had dated in her lifetime. She'd never wanted to have sex before. But Jamal was right—she
was
tempted now. But a part of her held back.

“I'm not a woman who makes a habit of getting into a man's bed,” she said softly, feeling the need to let him know where she stood, and determined not to let him know that for the first time she was rethinking that policy.

“We don't have to use a bed if you don't want. We can use the table, the sofa or the floor. You pick the place. I'm bursting at the seams ready.”

Delaney glanced down and saw his erection pressing against his zipper and knew he was dead serious. She inhaled deeply. He had missed her point entirely.

“What I mean is that I don't sleep with a man just for the fun of it.”

He nodded slowly. “Then what about for the pleasure of it? Would you sleep with a man just for the pleasure it would give you?”

Delaney stated at him blankly. Indulging in sex mainly for pleasure? She knew her brothers did it all the time. They were experts in the field. None of them had a mind to marry, yet they bought enough condoms during the year to make it cost efficient to form their own company.

“I've never thought about it before,” she answered truthfully. “When I think of someone being horny, I immediately think of men, more so than I do women.”

“Horny?”

She shook her head, thinking he was probably not familiar with a lot of American slang. “Yes, horny. It means needing sex in a bad way, almost to the point where your body is craving it.”

Jamal leaned down close to her mouth. “In that case, I'm feeling
horny,
” he murmured thickly against it. “Real horny. And I want to make you feel horny, too.”

“That's not possible,” she whispered softly, barely able to breathe.

A half smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Yes, it is.”

Before she could say anything, his hand reached down and touched her thigh at the same time his tongue licked her lips, before slowly easing inside her mouth. Once there he began stroking her tongue with his, as if he had all the time in the world and intended to do it all day at his leisure.

Delaney's entire body shivered when she felt his fingers at the zipper of her shorts, and a part of her wanted to push his hand away. But then another part, that foolish part that thrived on curiosity, the one that was slowly getting inflamed again, wanted to feel his touch and wanted to know how far he would take it.

She held her breath when he lowered the zipper slowly and deliberately, easing her into submission. His breathing was getting just as difficult as hers, and her entire body felt hot all over.

And then he inserted his hand inside her shorts, boldly touching her through the flimsy material of her panties. He touched her in a place no man had ever touched her before, and with that intimate touch, every cell in her body ignited. He began stroking her, slowly, languidly, making her feel horny. Just as he said he would do.

Never had she experienced anything so mind numbing, so unbelievably sensuous as one of his hands gently pushed her thighs apart even more while his fingertip gave complete erotic attention to that ultrasensitive, highly stimulated spot between her legs, while his tongue continued to suck on hers.

The combination of his fingers and his tongue was too much. She felt faint. She felt scandalized. She was feeling pleasure of the highest magnitude.

Another rumble of thunder with enough force to shake the cabin jolted Delaney out of her sexual haze and back to solid ground. She pushed Jamal away. Taking a deep breath she slumped against the wall, not believing what had just happened between them. What she had let him do. The liberties she had given him.

She had been putty in his arms.

A totally different woman beneath his fingers.

She appreciated the fact that evidently someone up there was looking out for her and had intervened before she could make a total fool of herself. Just as she'd thought, Jamal was a master at seduction. He had known just how to kiss her and just where to touch her to make her weak enough to throw caution to the wind. And she was determined not to let it happen again.

Forcing her gaze to his, she knew she was dealing with a man who was probably used to getting what he wanted whenever he wanted it. All he had to do was snap his fingers, ring a bell or do whatever a prince did when he needed sexual fulfillment.

Did he think she would fit the same bill while he was in America? The thought that he did angered her. She was not part of his harem and had no intentions of being at his beck and call.

Furious with herself for letting him toy with her so easily, she glared at him. “I plan to take a cold shower. I suggest you do the same.”

He didn't say anything for a long moment, and then he smiled at her. It was a smile that extended from his eyes all the way to each corner of his lips.

“A cold shower won't help, Delaney.”