The Sheikh's Second Chance Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 5) (2 page)

Lana's mouth dropped open, and her reply stuck in her throat. Finally, she forced out the necessary words. "I wasn't chasing after you. What gave you that idea?"

The man frowned disbelievingly. "I saw how you were looking at me back there," he said.

Lana stepped forward, noticing that he didn't move an inch. Instead, her movement toward him merely seemed to amuse him even more. "I was not looking at you," she said emphatically, her voice rising and echoing in the cavernous space.

The man paused. "The fine, elderly lady I was talking to seemed to think so," he said.

Lana's shoulders sank. "What?"

"She's a lovely old woman. Very wealthy and very perceptive. It was her who brought you to my attention."

Lana let out a disbelieving groan. "It's not how you think it is," she insisted.

"And what exactly am I thinking?" he asked. He leaned closer to her, and she could feel the power in his body. It had a primal quality as if it had been shaped in another place, somewhere wild.

"I have no idea what you are thinking, Mr...?" Lana said, hoping he would at last reveal his identity.

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Ah. You'll just have to wait. Names are such powerful things."

Lana frowned. "You're not going to tell me who you are?"

He shook his head. "Maybe some other time," he replied.

He removed a pair of black leather gloves from his coat pocket and forced his hands into them. Something about the way he did that drew her gaze downwards. This close to him, the power contained in his body was apparent and compelling. Inside the folds of his coat she could see his trim waistline.
 

"I thought you were going to leave a bid for the auction," Lana said.

He shrugged. "I'll make a contribution later," he stated casually as if it was something he was used to doing every day.

"If you give me some contact details, I can follow that up," Lana said trying not to sound at all desperate. Because she wasn't really, was she? No. It wasn't like that at all, she told herself. She was just doing her job. He knew that, didn't he?

The man paused and peered at Lana. He seemed to be assessing her. She saw his gaze drift toward the tidy curls of her blonde hair, settle on her green eyes and wander down to her lips. A hungry look appeared in his eyes, and she saw his jaw tighten. For a moment, he looked as if he was about to do something they might both regret.

Then, he shook his head as if to dispel the impulse that had risen within him. He began to turn away from Lana, and she reached out a hand, touching him gently on the elbow. "Wait," she said sharply. The sound of her voice seemed harsh and somehow out of place in these magisterial surroundings.

The man froze and his gaze settled on her hand. Lana pulled her hand away. The man turned, and there was that sudden resolve again, the same one she'd seen moments before. This time, though, he did something entirely different. This time, he acted upon the impulse.
 

He moved suddenly, wrapping an arm around Lana's waist. He drew her hard against him. Her soft body crashed against his firm torso and his head dipped. Before she had a chance to utter even the slightest sound, his lips claimed her own in a devastating, possessive kiss.
 

Lana gasped as his lips took ownership of her, their firmness setting off a firestorm of sensation throughout her treacherous body. Lana raised a protesting hand to his chest, intending to push him away, to reject this unwanted embrace. But, as the flat of her hand settled on his broad chest, something softened within Lana, and she felt her body settle against his. In response, he drew her firmly against him and his kiss became even more devouring, if that was possible.
 

Every nerve in Lana's body quivered. The years of neglect simply fell away. All the wasted years when she had done everything possible to avoid moments like this.

But, this was so delicious, so enticing, so tempting.
 

Lana's hands drifted to the man's wide shoulders, and she felt the sheer strength, the cords of powerful muscle. So much promise, a distant voice said somewhere amongst the waves of sensation that had taken hold of her.

His breath was suddenly quick and harsh. She felt his powerful hands draw her toward him, pulling her closer with an urgent need. His fingers clutched the fabric of her dress. His body felt taut with barely contained strength. His scent was overpowering, an intoxicating miasma that made her senses reel.

Then, somewhere in the far distance, as if in another world she heard a voice calling out her name.

Lana froze, and the man wrenched his lips away from her. His gaze met her bewildered expression. She saw frustration there, almost an anger at the person calling for Lana from the top of the stairs.

Lana spun around, the man releasing her. She straightened her dress and tried to compose herself.

Ellie, one of the office assistants, stood at the top of the stairs. Lana could tell that Ellie had seen everything that had been going on down at the foot of the stairs. Ellie shifted awkwardly from side to side, averting her gaze from the scene below.

"Ellie. What can I do for you?" Lana said hesitantly, trying to slow her rapid breathing. She realized her voice was quivering no matter how hard she tried to still her rapidly beating heart.

"You're wanted," Ellie said bluntly. Lana knew what that meant. The boss would want to have words and Lana had learned in her short time at the company that when the boss called, you jumped.

Lana heard footsteps behind and started to turn. She was about to say something to the man, make one final attempt at finding out the name of the man who had driven her senses so inexplicably wild.

Her words froze at the back of her throat when she saw the figure of the man striding away from her. By the time she started to force out a disbelieving cry the man had already stepped into the revolving doors and made his way out into the cold New York night.

"Lana?" Ellie said. "Who was that?"

Lana shook her head and watched the man's broad shoulders dip as he ducked into the rear of a black limousine. The door shut, and the limo slid away.

"I don't know, Ellie," Lana replied. "I don't really know who he was."

Lana tried to mask the tone of regret in her voice. But, as she turned and started to make her way back up the stairs, she vowed that she'd think twice before ever acting so impulsively toward a man.
 

Not even a man as gloriously handsome as the tall stranger who had just kissed her like no man had ever done before.

CHAPTER TWO

SIX MONTHS LATER

QAZHAR CITY AIRPORT

"There she is," Mia cried out. "I can see her getting ready to disembark."

Malik Al Kharif leaned casually against the side of the limousine on the tarmac of Qazhar airport. He folded his arms and wondered how long it would take before they could all start back to the palace. Collect Mia's friend and then head home. That was the plan. But, the plane had already been delayed, and Malik was starting to feel impatient.

The limo had just brought himself, his brother, Rafiq and Mia the soon-to-be new member of the Al Kharif family all the way from the family palace on the outskirts of Qazhar City. The Al Kharif private plane had just drawn to a halt on the tarmac in front of them.

Malik smiled in spite of the gloominess of his spirits and the tiredness he felt after yet another long night on the town with his friends. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.
 

Maybe he was getting too old for his chosen lifestyle. That thought made him shudder and adjust his sunglasses. Malik gazed at the stationary plane and saw movement inside the cabin.

Mia squealed which made Rafiq laugh and shake his head. The two brothers exchanged good-natured glances.

 
It was good to see Mia so excited at the prospect of being reunited with her friend from America. Rafiq and Mia's wedding would be in a few days, and the palace had been a hive of activity, most of which Malik had successfully avoided. Weddings were one thing. Being involved in the arrangement of one was quite something else.

The harsh sound of the whining engines of the small private jet that had flown Mia's friend from the other side of the Atlantic dropped to a steady mechanical rumble and then halted. The door on the side of the plane swung open, and steps were dropped down onto the tarmac. This part of the airport was reserved for the elite families of Qazhar and today the bright sun shone down upon a scene of emotional reunion. Mia hadn't seen her friend for months. They'd known each other in New York during Mia's regular visits to her family.
 

Malik thought about Mia and Rafiq's whirlwind romance. They'd been reunited in London, and their previous relationship had been rekindled with Mia's presence in Qazhar to sort out a financial problem that had arisen. It seemed that true love could show up in the strangest of places, even in the midst of a financial audit.

Malik glanced at his brother. Rafiq had never looked so happy. Malik was glad that Rafiq had found true love with Mia. Even if he didn't believe in it himself, Malik was pleased that at least one of his brothers had found a woman like Mia.
 

Malik drew in a deep breath. The prospect of being tied down wasn't something that filled him with anticipation.
 

Maybe some day.

Just not yet.

Mia reached across and squeezed Malik's arm. "You're going to like her, Malik," she enthused. "She's just your type."

Malik raised a brow. "Really. And what exactly is my type, Mia?" he asked with a wry grin.

Mia playfully bumped Malik's arm. "You know. Beautiful. Smart. Strong-minded."

"Ah. I like the first two," Malik replied. "Not sure about the last one, though."

Mia crinkled her nose and smiled at Malik. "You just haven't met the right one yet, Malik."

Rafiq leaned in close. "He's been trying to avoid doing that for as long as I can remember," he said with an admonishing look.

"What is this? A matchmaking exercise?" Malik asked with a grin.

Mia shook her head. "Men! What are they like?" she said turning to her future husband.
 

Rafiq grinned. "I don't know. What other men are you talking about?"

Mia hooked her arm inside Rafiq's. "There's only one man for me. But, I think you already know that, don't you?"

Rafiq and Mia gazed into each others eyes, and Malik wrenched his head away from the sight of the two besotted lovers.
 

Really.
 

It was too early in the day for this kind of show of affection.

There was movement at the door of the plane and Mia tugged herself away from Rafiq and strode forward. Rafiq and Malik walked behind her.
 

Then, a figure stepped out from inside the plane, and Malik felt something shift inside himself. The petite blonde in an elegant blue dress and flat shoes emerged from inside the cabin and raised her head, squinting up at the clear blue sky.

Malik halted in his tracks. Rafiq took a few more steps and then paused. He turned to Malik and frowned.

Mia screamed with delight. "Lana!"

The young woman emerging from the plane matched the piercing scream with one of her own. She leapt down the steps and onto the tarmac. Both women hugged each other, air-kissed, and started yelling and babbling like two school kids who hadn't seen each other for decades.

Malik looked at Rafiq, who was glancing back and forward from the sight of the two women to the sight of his brother rooted to the spot.

"What is it, Malik?" Rafiq asked.

Beyond his brother, Malik could see the excited reunion. The two women were obviously overjoyed to see each other. Malik felt his heart beat faster. He clenched his fists, the need for control urgent and immediate.

It couldn't be!

Malik squinted one more time. Just to be sure.

Yes.

It was her.

In spite of himself, Malik frowned. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

The blonde hair; the green eyes; the full figure.

The woman he'd kissed at the New York fundraiser was Mia's best friend?

Mia turned and gestured toward Rafiq. "Lana. I'd like you to meet the man who is going to be my husband," she exclaimed with barely concealed girlish excitement.

Rafiq turned away from Malik and walked toward the two women.

Mia and Lana parted, and Rafiq extended a hand to Lana. "Welcome to Qazhar, Lana. It's lovely to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"Oh, come now, Rafiq," Mia exclaimed. "You can do better than that. Give Lana a hug, Rafiq."

Rafiq smiled and embraced Lana as warmly as his sense of decorum allowed.

And it was as Lana gazed over Rafiq's shoulder that her eyes settled on the figure of Malik. Her smile froze. He saw her lower lip drop and her eyes widen. It must have seemed like Malik was some taunting apparition beneath the warm Qazhar sun because he saw genuine disbelief on her face.

A hard knot settled in his middle as his gaze met the eyes of the woman whose lips he had claimed on a cold New York night months before.

Mia turned to Malik. "Come say hello, Malik," she said enthusiastically. Mia was blissfully unaware that anything was taking place other than a tearful reunion. However, it was a reunion of a very different sort that made Malik's steps across the tarmac feel like he was treading through treacherous, tidal waters.

Lana and Rafiq parted, and Malik strode up to them. Maintaining his composure was suddenly proving to be even more difficult than a few moments before.
 

Mia gestured to Malik. "Lana. I'd like to introduce you to Malik. One of Rafiq's younger brothers."

Lana's features were frozen in a mask of obvious self-restraint. He could see her jaw tighten even as she forced a smile across her luscious lips.

Malik straightened himself and bowed formally, aware of just how awkward that gesture must seem when everyone else was so determined to be friendly.

Malik raised his head, and his gaze met Lana's. Lana extended a hand. Malik was sure he could see that hand shaking ever so slightly. Surely, she wasn't nervous. She remembered their encounter. He was certain of that. She was looking at Malik with visible apprehension in her eyes. Did she think he was going to reveal the fact that they had already met each other?