His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall Page 0,37
back to the office to distract his hands from where they wanted to be.
Now, having finished his unnecessary calls, his eyes were drawn over towards her body, soft leather briefcase resting at her designer-shoe-encased feet, which were neatly crossed at the ankles. She wore a cream dress suit with a delicate gold chain belt, which highlighted her tiny waist—Dior if he wasn’t mistaken, and he rarely was when it came to designers. The matching three-quarter-arm-length jacket was folded neatly in her lap, covered by her perfectly manicured soft hands, which were tipped in pale pink polish. A mother-of-pearl and diamond bracelet watch graced her wrist, perhaps a gift from Matt for her birthday as he’d not seen her wear it before, and it matched the delicate mother-of-pearl drop earrings that decorated her ears. He deliberated on whether they were her mother’s or perhaps a twenty-first birthday gift.
He mused that he’d actually never seen her perfect ears because she usually chose to leave her long hair loose, falling around her shoulders. Today, it was pulled back in a neat chignon at the nape of her neck. A long, elegant neck, exposed as she tilted her head against the window. She looked—he paused whilst he thought of the right word—graceful, stylish, faultless, immaculate—but he couldn’t settle on just one English word. In his own language she was Jameel-Helow.
He visualised leaning over the gap that separated them and pressing gentle kisses from the sensitive part where her neck met her shoulder to the tantalising skin behind her ear. He swallowed as he saw the barest sheen gleaming on her pale skin. He was dying to learn her taste, run his tongue and lick tentatively at the vein teasing him. He cursed to himself as he hardened once again at the thought. She shifted slightly and he jumped back in his seat and shook his head, surprised that he had unconsciously gravitated towards her. He mentally slapped himself on her behalf, annoyed at his inability to control his body’s reactions around her. She’s barely an adult, he reminded himself. Despite her more sophisticated appearance today, she’s your friend’s sister. That finally seemed to do the trick.
“Are you awake?” he asked abruptly, whilst leaning forward to make the air conditioning cooler.
Her body stiffened at his question. “Yes, of course,” she replied coolly, seemingly annoyed at his allegation that she might have drifted off. “I was just looking back over the bay at your building with the mountains in the distance. See, you can just make it out,” she offered, looking over at him before proudly pointing her finger.
“Hmm. Well it’s the tallest. The meeting will be held in our private conference room at the hotel followed by a formal dinner in the evening. Kahlid Al Ari will be representing the Dubai government at the official signing.”
“Right,” she replied curtly, turning away, no longer willing to look directly at him. “So what is it exactly that you need me to do? I’m assuming you don’t want me to teach Mr Al Ari Gangnam Style, for the dinner dance?”
His brow puckered in confusion. “What?” he asked, getting the distinct feeling that she was teasing him again.
She met his stare. “Never mind,” she admonished, shaking her head.
“You are to be at my side,” he informed her, a smile appearing on his lips, “at my beck and call, so to speak.” His eyes twinkled.
She let out a short laugh. “You’re kidding?” But she quickly dropped her smile. “You’re not kidding?” she amended slowly, shaking her head with a dawning realisation before continuing, “Right, right. I remember.” She paused briefly before turning her head away from him to look back out of the window and continuing, “No sense of humour. Did it hurt when they surgically removed it?” she asked rhetorically.
He was going to kill her. He was actually going to kill her—probably kiss her thoroughly beforehand—but then definitely kill her. Either way, his hands would be around her neck.
He’d been ignorant to her entrance, having had his back to the door, but felt unable to do anything other than turn as he watched, bewildered, as Kahlid’s mouth dropped open midway through their conversation. He followed the gaze of the man’s heavily dilated eyes and raised a brow.
He barely contained a growl from leaving his lips as his gawping was interrupted. “What did you say?”
Kahlid smiled knowingly at him as he drank from his glass of champagne. “I said you’re a very lucky man, Aldabbagh.”