down her neck, he asked her how she was feeling. In Arabic.
Filled with gutturals, the language was a warrior’s language. Spoken by the warrior who was watching her, it brought back a childhood spent in the souks—the marketplaces in Dubai, Riyadh, Muscat....
Her mouth dropped open, and she asked in English, “Where did you grow up?”
“South Dakota, actually.” He switched back to Arabic. “Special Forces soldiers are required to learn at least one language of interest, if not more.”
She stayed in Arabic. “Why?”
“Ah, of all the armed forces, we’re the ones who interact with a foreign country’s population the most, working with the locals and training their soldiers. Our medics help the sick and injured in the villages. It’s how I came to have a fondness for the food there.”
“I had no—” Shocked to realize her lacy bustier was halfway open, she tried to sit up. “What…?”
A crease appeared in his cheek, amusement in his eyes. With a hand between her breasts, he gently pushed her back. In English, he said, “We’re also good at multi-tasking.”
He leaned forward, kissing her slowly, his lips firm. His breath held a hint of mint. He cupped her chin, holding her as he took it deeper, coaxing her to respond to his slow invasion. Her bones melted like the snow in the first spring sun.
Lifting his head, his gaze held hers as his fingertips brushed the swell of her upper breasts.
Her nipples budded, and her body roused, making her far too aware of his hard face, his knowledgeable hands.
And how her arms were pinned behind her back.
Even as he nipped her jaw, his fingers were unhooking the rest of her bustier to expose her breasts. Only the shoulder straps kept it from falling off.
“What are you doing?”
“Aside from thoroughly enjoying myself?” His smile flashed white in the tanned face. “Before we go somewhere private, I want to see if you’re comfortable with my hands on you.” He cupped one breast, weighing it, molding it.
His palm was warm; his touch curled her toes.
“Comfortable isn’t the word I’d use,” she muttered.
She’d heard his quick laugh before, but now his laughter was open and hearty. Two people walking past paused and grinned.
He dropped another kiss on her lips before rising. Gripping her around the waist, he easily lifted her to her feet, even though she certainly wasn’t a lightweight. Under his shirt, his biceps bulged enough to strain the fabric.
After slinging his bag over his shoulder, he put his arm around her. As they walked, she started to fasten her bustier, and he put his hand over hers. “On a scale of one to ten, how uncomfortable will you be if it’s open? Ten is embarrassed enough to run.”
Such questions. Leave the bustier open? Her breasts sagged. Her stomach was certainly not lean and ridged.
Ten.
But there were lots of women here, all ages, all body types.
He was watching her, and the masculine appreciation in his gaze made her feel…beautiful.
So, maybe five?
Some of the people here were walking around completely naked. She’d only have her corset open. “Three, maybe?”
He ran his fingertips over her breast again. “Then leave it open. We’ll give the members a lovely treat. You have beautiful breasts.”
The compliment made her flush, and…almost…alleviated the embarrassment of walking past people and their gazes dropping to her chest.
To her surprise, only approval and pleasure showed in their expressions.
With his arm behind her, they climbed the spiral stairs to the second floor. A long hallway showed door after door, each with a tiny, shuttered window. Some had red lights glowing above the frame.
As they passed the ones with doors ajar, she’d glance in. She’d expected only beds and dark walls, like the stereotype of a low-rent brothel. Instead, the first room was decorated in southwestern reds and blacks. The next looked like a dark Gothic nightmare. One resembled the deck of a pirate ship with wall murals of the sun setting over an endless expanse of ocean.
Most of the way down the hall, Ghost pushed a door fully open for her. “I thought you’d enjoy a royal welcome.”
The opulent, decadent décor was reminiscent of the reign of Louis XIV. Lavish red and gold tapestries hung on the right and left walls. A sofa was over to the right. The far wall held a…
“A throne?” Elaborately carved and cushioned with red leather, the throne stood on a raised dais in front of gilded gold wall panels. But the center of the seat was missing.