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She nodded, her hair shifting to reveal glimpses of honey-colored flesh he had a near-irresistible urge to taste. The reasons for resisting were melting away with other inhibitions that came with his place of state.
“My current thoughts are definitely not appropriate for an emir,” he admitted.
“So, take it off.”
“Removing my egal won’t take away my role.”
“We’ll pretend it does.”
The idea was very appealing. He gave in and pulled off both the head covering and egal holding it in place.
“Now the suit jacket,” she instructed.
“Are you trying to get me naked?”
“I don’t think so?”
“You don’t sound very sure.” And looked adorably confused by the idea.
CHAPTER FIVE
AALIYAH’S BROWS DREW together in thought. “You’re supposed to be even with me.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Yes, it does.” She nodded, her head only wobbling a little, her expression all too serious.
There was something flawed in her logic, but he couldn’t identify what just then.
Besides, he liked the idea of stripping away another layer of the trappings that separated him from this woman. It was as satisfying as removing the egal and keffiyeh, letting go of his position for just a few hours in the privacy of the hotel suite.
Inexplicably, his fingers shook as he stripped out of his hand-tailored jacket, burgundy silk tie and gray pinstriped dress shirt.
Aaliyah didn’t seem to notice, her eyes eating him up in a very flattering way. After the hours spent building his muscles while honing fighting skills passed down for generations in his family, he had no false modesty.
But the way she looked at him was not simply that of a woman attracted to his fit body; it was more intense than that.
She watched him with a powerful hunger more honest than any expression he’d seen on a lover’s face.
She made a soft sound that went straight to his groin. “Your hair is too short to cover any skin.”
“You do not sound bothered by that fact.”
She shook her head.
“Perhaps you have noticed, but there is already hair on my chest,” he pointed out.
Taking after his ancestors, it wasn’t too plentiful, but enough he did not look like a boy.
“Yes.” She audibly swallowed. “Your nipples are hard.”
“I bet yours are, too.” And lusciously tempting.
“They are,” she breathed out.
He had to swallow a groan. “Drink more water. I’m having another ouzo.” It tasted about a hundred proof and he rarely drank, but she wasn’t outdoing him.
They both slammed their drinks back. Funnily enough, she choke-coughed on her water. His ouzo had gone down smooth as glass.
