Desert Affair

Desert Affair
Kate Walker

Three days and nights in the arms of a sheikh!Stranded with a devastatingly handsome stranger, Lydia Ashton decides to throw caution to the wind and spend a luxurious and passionate three days and nights in his arms. Soon she discovers that her charming stranger is the proud son of a sheikh, heir to the throne of Kuimar, and used to getting exactly what he wants. And he wants Lydia. Amir fulfills her every desire, and their passion seems to know no bounds. Lydia knows she has broken the rules by falling in love. Too late, she discovers why….

“Lydia, listen to me.

“When I’m with you, I’m just a man—as you are a woman. I don’t think differently because I am the son of a sheikh. I don’t act differently. I am just like any other man. When I do this…”

He bent his proud head and took her lips in a long, deep kiss that made her senses reel.

“I am a man kissing a woman—my woman. The woman who has stolen my soul from me—my mind—leaving me incapable of thinking of anything beyond her.” This Amir was no longer the civilized, controlled man she had met just hours before, but a fierce, arrogant Bedouin warrior, with the heat of the desert in his veins, the burn of the sun in his eyes.

“Let me tempt you, sweetheart,” he murmured against her ear. “Let me persuade you to stay, and I promise you’ll never forget it. You can have anything you want. Everything you want…”

Desert Affair

Kate Walker

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

For Noelle, with love.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

‘EXCUSE me, but is this seat taken?’

Lydia didn’t even have to look up to know who had spoken. There was only one person in the whole of the airport lounge who could have a voice like that. The sort of voice that wrapped itself around her senses like a slither of warmed silk, its low, lyrically accented tones making her skin shiver in reaction to the sheer sensuality of their sound.

She had spotted him as soon as she had walked into the room. It had been impossible not to notice him. He was tall, dark and devastatingly imposing; it seemed as if he were the only person in the place. The sort of man who would draw any woman’s gaze with the automatic ease of a powerful magnet and then lazily hold onto it without any sort of effort on his part.

And he had made no effort at all. Though he could not have been unaware of her attention, the overwhelming interest she hadn’t even had the strength to hide, he had done nothing at all to sustain it or show that it mattered in the slightest to him. No trace of reaction had touched the carved male beauty of his tanned face, no flicker of a smile either of welcome or even disdain. But he had not been unaware of her.

‘I said…’

‘I know what you said!’

The faint rasp of an edge to the beautiful voice, the hint of angry reproof, had her lifting her head sharply, tossing back the soft brown curls that framed her heart-shaped face. Wide-set blue eyes fringed by long, curling lashes clashed abruptly with harder, glittering black, and for a second she felt as if her heart had actually stopped in stunned disbelief.

Dear God, but he was even more spectacular close up! The true beauty of that golden skin, the sculpted cheekbones and wide, hard, sensual slash of a mouth was like a blow in the pit of her stomach. His nose was long and straight, his hair unredeemed black, cut in an uncompromisingly severe crop that emphasised the total perfection of the superb, clean-cut lines of his features.

And if he had seemed tall from a distance then standing over her like this, with those amazing eyes fixed searchingly on her face, his impact was positively earth-shattering.

‘I know what you said…’

Hastily Lydia adjusted her tone a degree or two downwards, from the pitch to which shock and apprehension had pushed it, wishing she could erase the flaring wash of colour from her cheeks as easily.

‘But I would have thought that it was obvious that no one was sitting there.’

And that no one had occupied the chair beside her for all of the—what? Almost three quarters of an hour since she had taken up her position here. After all, he had been watching her for almost all of that time.

She had tried to bury her face in the copy of the magazine she had bought to while away the time waiting for her flight to be called, but she had felt the burn of his brazen gaze fixed on her. And she had met its cold scrutiny head-on if she’d so much as glanced upwards from the page.

‘I wondered if you might be waiting for someone.’

‘Well, no, I’m not! I’m here on my own!’

‘Then may I join you?’

‘Why?’

She knew she sounded suspicious, as stiff as a cat being threatened by the approach of a stranger into its territory, but she couldn’t help it. It was how she felt, wary and unsure of herself. If anything, she felt like the intruder into the luxurious, opulent surroundings of the VIP lounge. It was not the sort of place she normally frequented, not the sort of place she could ever have afforded to be in if it hadn’t been for her new job, the generosity of her employers.

He, on the other hand, looked totally, supremely at home here. His long, lean body might be clothed in the same casual jeans and a jumper that she had chosen for practicality during a long flight, but there could be no doubt that his clothing was very definitely not from the chain store where she had bought hers. No, the lines of his clothing murmured of designer labels and expensive tailoring, and she was sure that the smoky grey sweater that hugged the firm lines of his chest and skimmed the narrow waist and hips could only be of the finest, softest cashmere available. Everything about him said Money, with a capital M.

And in spite of the supremely civilised nature of his appearance, something about him seemed to whisper of a wilder spirit, an untamed, elemental part of his character that didn’t fit with the ultra-modern surroundings.

‘Why?’

He shrugged indolent shoulders, unconsciously drawing attention to their width and strength.