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Anticipation triggered sensation in Qazim. A sensation he enjoyed. But nothing compared to how Grace made him feel while they were making love.
He sat at one end of the dining table. Grace was just a few feet away at the other end, but the way Qazim felt right now, she could have just as well been on the other side of the world.
She was behaving so strangely, he told himself.
Grace had been polite enough throughout the meal, laughing at his jokes, resisting his compliments about just how beautiful she looked.
And she did look stunning this evening, he told himself.
The way that dress clung to her body made something harden inside him, tempted him to take her in his arms. But then again, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. And Qazim was the luckiest man alive. It was as simple as that.
They'd met barely two months before when Grace had arrived with the team Qazim was building to proceed with his expansion plans into North America. He and his company had construction plans for a luxury hotel in Washington.
At least Qazim had his plans. He had specific ideas of the kind of hotel he would build, the design of it. Something that would embody his own personal taste.
But, at that first meeting with his American partners, for the first time only a few floors below, in his office suite, he'd come face to face with Grace.
And what a confrontation it had been.
Right from the start she'd disagreed with Qazim's plans. Challenged him at every turn. She'd criticized them in no uncertain terms, accusing the design of the hotel as being too austere, too modern and not taking full advantage of the architectural legacy of Qazim's home country. It was Grace's idea that Qazim's tastes were just too trendy, too clinical.
Too masculine, as she put it.
Qazim had found that hard to accept. How could his tastes in design and architecture be too masculine? When pressed, Grace had accused Qazim of abandoning his heritage and everything unique that tradition gave him.
Qazim had responded defensively. The clash between Qazim and Grace had been instant. And it had been electric.
From their first exchanges, it had been clear to Qazim that Grace was a woman unlike any he'd ever met. She was firm in her opinions, determined to stand her ground and completely resistant to Qazim's will.
And he'd loved it.
More than that.
From the moment of that first encounter with Grace, Qazim had made his mind up that she belonged in his bed. And nothing would stand in his way.
So, he had courted her, won her over using every charm he had developed through years of seducing women.
Of course it hadn't been easy. Grace had made sure of that. But, from the beginning he'd sensed that she was intrigued by Qazim. One or two comments her associates had made led Qazim to believe that Grace might have been in fact trying to mask an attraction toward Qazim.
One thing had led to another, and finally he'd won the victory his body and his mind had so desperately desired.
They'd shared every possible passion, satisfied their mutual desire for each other.
And it had been incredible.
Qazim sat at the end of the table, sipped some more champagne and gazed at Grace.
He took a moment to savor her beauty; her even, pretty features with their high cheekbones and strong jawline; her icy blue eyes set beneath delicate brows; her poised elegance; the teasing swell of her full breasts beneath the fabric of her figure-hugging dress.
The sight of her made him firm with need, tempted him to make a fool of himself once more and claim her just as he'd done before on their many nights of soul-melting sex.
He felt a familiar ache inside him as he gazed at her. He said nothing to break the silence. It was enough just to be here with her.
Every little fantasy he'd played with in his mind about Grace had come true. Their love-making had been unlike anything he'd experienced with an other woman. He was thirty years of age, five years older than Grace. But the difference in years had been meaningless.
After overcoming her initial reluctance, after breaking down her last barrier, Grace's passion for Qazim had proven to be as powerful as his own desire to possess her. Her desire had matched his. He believed the bond they had created between each other these past weeks was unbreakable.
Was that enough to take the next, inevitable step?
