Sheikh's Hired Mistress (2 page)

He gestured with one hand. “It fits you very well. It is like Niha made it for you.”

“I…Thank you.”

Now that she was looking more closely at him, he was a bit of a work of art himself. His jawline was wide and chiseled, and it was lined by a neatly-trimmed light beard. But his eyes were what drew her in. A warm, hazel-green, they seemed to laugh at her astonishment, and they were framed by two dark, winged brows.

“Forgive me. I have not introduced myself. I am Aziz bin Mohammad bin Ali al Amirmoez.” He gave a slight bow.

“Oh.” Laine nodded slowly. “I’m Laine McConnell.”

Aziz’s brows raised and his eyes widened. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. “It is my pleasure. When I spotted you here wearing Niha's dress, I could not help but come examine your beauty.”

Laine blinked. Was he serious?

“You were examining this sculpture, yes?” Aziz looked up at it and stepped beside her. “Do you like it?”

Laine tilted her head. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth. I could definitely sell it to a client for a sitting room piece, but I might not feel good about doing so.”

“It is evocative. The point very of art.” Aziz turned from the sculpture to look at her once again. “Like a beautiful woman. It
provokes
.”

Laine laughed. His voice was warm and lilting, with a pronounced but intelligible accent. It was comforting. But she couldn’t believe that he believed what he was saying. He had the ease of a man who could get dozens of women on his arm simply by holding it out.

“You are so lovely...” he said in a near-whisper and lifted his hand to the hair falling in her eyes. “You’re like a rose that has bloomed both red and white. The ones they call tigers?”

Laine pulled away. “I should get back to my sister.”

“You should spend the night with me.”

Laine gaped at his grin and sputtered.

“Ah, I misspoke. I mean that you should keep me company at this party. It’s a bit dull, isn’t it? I think you think so, or you wouldn’t be observing this sculpture.” He stepped closer, causing her to look up and swallow. “Let me make your night interesting. Let me provoke you, Laine.”

Laine hesitated. She could still sense his presence. It was as though the warmth of his golden skin projected from him like another self that further pressed into her personal space. Normally, she would want to step away from it, to keep her space her own, but in sensing him, she almost felt
owned
by him. He’d already claimed her. All she had to do was accept.

But that was silly, of course. He was just a man. A ruthlessly handsome man, and one clearly accustomed to getting his way with women. It would be just like her to stubbornly refuse such a request.

“I don’t know if the party is dull, or I’m too dull to appreciate all the celebrities here.” Laine turned and pointed to her sister. “That’s my little sister. She’s the star of the family. She had three movies come out this year.”

“Ah.” Aziz nodded. “My family is accomplished as well, or most of them are.”

Aziz then proceeded to regale her in great detail about the accomplishments of all of his family members, who were, by the way, obscenely rich and powerful. Meaning that he, too, was obscenely rich and powerful. A
sheikh
. Laine tried to keep herself from imagining a white drape over his head as he continued on about the properties both physical and corporate that were under his ownership.

“What in the world are you doing
here
?” Laine asked.

“I have been visiting the city. I was told by a friend that this party would keep us entertained for the evening.” Aziz leaned over to whisper in her ear. “He lied.”

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint a sheikh. Maybe we can find something to intrigue us here,” Laine suggested.

Aziz looked around, with a mischievous glint in his eye. He held up a finger and nodded, then walked away quickly. Laine stood there, waiting as he slipped through the crowd. She thought for a moment that Aziz would find another woman with an eye-catching dress and be pulled in that direction. Every move he made seemed well-rehearsed. He’d seduced a woman or two in his time.

He would probably be a better match for Emma, to be honest. Hedonism wasn’t exactly Laine’s forte.

Laine looked up at the nearest screen on the wall. It had gone black and flickered to a screensaver of a doodle bouncing around. The music had stopped. For a moment, the party guests milled around discontentedly, but then new music began—a funky brass-led tango wafting out over the speaker system.

Aziz returned and took her hand.

At once they were in the middle of the floor, his hand in hers as he swept her in circles. Their dance moves didn’t quite add up to a tango, but that was fine. Laine didn’t know how to tango. She
did
know that the feeling in her chest—the light, breathless, and joyful feeling—was one she hadn’t experienced in
years
.

He’s a player. He knows how to do this to women,
she told herself. But then he gave her a dip, and a twirl, and then pulled her close to his broad, warm chest, and her reservations evaporated.

“Everyone is looking,” she said, turning her head out to face the party.

Aziz caught her chin with two fingers. “As they should. There is nothing else worth looking at.”

Laine’s heart sped up in her chest. Was it from the adrenaline of being in the spotlight? Was it being so close to Aziz? She couldn’t tell, but she liked it. The rush of feeling surged through her like a wave, and suddenly she was rising onto her toes, clutching the sides of Aziz’s face, and pressing a kiss to his full lips. The scruff of his light beard brushed against her chin as she kissed him, and his palm clutched possessively against her back. Laine shuddered.

“A…Aziz,” she muttered. The music had stopped without her noticing, and the two of them stood there, pressed against one another. The air around them seemed to vibrate.

“You started it, tiger,” he said with a heavy voice. He didn’t let go.

“I did, I
really
did, but…” Laine frowned and tried to come to her senses. This wasn’t
her
. She wasn’t the woman who drew the attention of the most powerful man in the room. She
wasn’t
the woman who drew every eye to her. “I…I need some air,” she stammered, starting to squirm in Aziz’s grasp.

Aziz slackened his grip but reached for her when she hurried across the floor and escaped out onto the balcony.

There Laine flung herself to the rail, causing several people to turn in alarm. She ignored them, sucking in deep breaths of the cold night air and gripping the railing so hard that her fingers started to smart. What had she just done? Why had she danced with him? Why had she fled? Neither actions were sensible. Aziz exuded experience and control but was no danger to her. The only danger, perhaps, was that he would now find a less skittish object for his attentions.

“Laine…”

Again, Laine sensed his approach before he even spoke. A shadow from the balcony lights fell over her. Inevitable, his being so tall. She gave the rail another squeeze and lifted her head to meet his gaze.

“Are you all right?” He began to unbutton his suit jacket.

“I don’t get out much. I’m not used to…” She gestured toward the party inside. “Oh, but it was so much fun! Why aren’t they
dancing
? What’s the point of going out at all, if you’re going to be like that?”

Aziz nodded slowly and shucked off his jacket. “They’ll talk for days of who danced at this dreary little party.”

In a sweeping movement, Aziz draped his jacket over her bare shoulders. Laine smiled lopsidedly. There was nothing little about this celebrity party, but it was funny that it seemed so to him. He probably crashed bigger and better soirees every weekend.

“Thank you.” The chill was somewhat abated, but her skin prickled nonetheless. She both did and did not want this evening to end. “I sorry. It wasn’t your fault. I think…I’m not that comfortable being the center of attention. Especially not here.”

“These people aren’t for you. They want to be seen but not known. They are big but make themselves
smaller
.” Aziz’s mouth soured on the last word. He placed his large, strong hands on her shoulders.

Laine let her eyes fall half-closed as Aziz bowed over her, brushing a few locks of hair aside as he cupped her face. “You need less of a crowd, or a different crowd.”

“I do?” Laine found herself mesmerized by his intense hazel-green eyes.

Aziz murmured a “yes” and their lips came together once more. His kisses were deliberate, firm. He moved in for a long kiss, and then sucked in her lower lip teasingly. It was like each kiss was punctuated with another. Soon, Laine was very, very warm.

“Mmm.” Laine sighed as Aziz pulled away.

“There are other parties in this city. Other things to do…that we could do together,” Aziz suggested.

Laine hesitated only a moment before taking Aziz’s arm. “I didn’t drive here.”

“I will take care of our travel.”

“Oh? And how does a sheikh travel?”

“Only at the height of style.” Aziz lifted his chin as they walked back inside, looking every bit the foreign conqueror. Laine was sure the stars and socialites were duly impressed and intimidated.

Laine caught her sister’s eye before she and Aziz disappeared through the front door. Emma’s eyes sparkled with scandal and mirth. When they’d reached the elevator and the door closed behind them, Aziz pushed Laine against the wall, and his eyes flashed. He devoured her neck mercilessly with little kisses, nipping and sucking and dragging his teeth along the tender flesh. Laine flattened her hand against the elevator wall. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she carded her fingers into Aziz’s lush hair.

“Already this party is better,” she gasped.

Aziz let out a deep-throated chuckle.

When she caught a moment, Laine shot Emma a quick text: “Your hour’s up, sis! See you tomorrow!”

Chapter Three

A limo ride, several city blocks, and two appletinis later, Laine and Aziz were back out on a dance floor. This time, though, with the lights lowered and other people dancing around them, Laine started to forget where they were and who was around them. Oh, she was vaguely aware that there were other people at the club and one of Aziz’s scary, bald-headed bodyguards was discreetly lurking somewhere, but none of that was at the forefront of her mind. Nothing was, aside from the raw physicality of Aziz as he danced, the energy crackling around them both, and the beat of the music reverberating throughout every atom in the club.

Laine had rarely been to clubs in the city; she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone dancing, or the last time she’d gone anywhere with a guy without having planned it out several weeks in advance. On the way over, that had made her a little nervous. She’d barely put any thought into leaving the party with a man she didn’t even know. But something about Aziz was so tremendously honest that she couldn’t believe that he was anything other than what he seemed. Even if it turned out the bit about being a sheikh was bunk—though she doubted it—Aziz presented himself as a man in control, invested in having a pleasurable evening, and confident that he could ensure that however and with whomever he wanted. Laine was good at reading people, unless he was a method actor.

The lights strobed over them in blues and greens, turning the dancers into ethereal turquoise revelers. The music pumped and swelled, and the two of them moved together. First their eyes were locked on one another as they danced, not touching but close enough to feel one another’s heat. Then Aziz took her hand, as though to keep her close, even though she wasn’t going anywhere. Laine smiled and turned her back to him, keeping their fingers woven together above her shoulder as she looked up and back at him. She grinned, causing him to smile as well. Aziz reached around her, moving his hand first down her stomach, then along the front of her thigh. Their bodies rolled along with the music as one.

When the music changed, Aziz leaned over to press a kiss to the curve of her neck. Laine closed her eyes and felt something releasing inside of her, like a cord pulled tight that had just been unhooked. Her breaths came more frequently, more deeply. She squeezed 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.