Undressed by the Boss: Sheikh Boss, Hot Desert Nights / The Boss's Bedroom Agenda / Taken by the Maverick Millionaire

The most promising candidate, he corrected himself sternly as he strode quickly up the stairs.

The sight of Raffa sweeping up the stairs in regal robes held her spellbound. She should have known the ruler of A’Qaban would be wearing robes of state for such an important event. She should have known that if Raffa had looked good in Savile Row, and even better in jeans, he would look totally fabulous in flowing Arabian robes of night-blue silk.

‘May I escort you?’ he said, offering his arm. ‘Take it,’ he insisted firmly, ‘before you land in a heap at the feet of the people you’re expecting to cajole and charm tonight.’

‘Yes, Your Majesty …’ Aware that the eyes of the room were upon them, she dropped a low curtsey, and as she did so she registered a huge erotic charge. Playing dress-up with a king was far more exciting than any fantasy she’d ever managed to come up with.

* * *

He was pleased to see how greatly Casey had grown in confidence, but a little less pleased to realise they were both intensely aware of each other, even in a room full of people. He knew she could feel his interest, and he liked the fact that Casey’s gaze was no longer uncertain, but direct, intelligent, and challenging enough to hold his interest. Added to which, she walked like a queen at his side, and he found her company a source of constant stimulation as he introduced her round. But none of that was good for business—or for his vaunted self-control.

The rustle of Raffa’s heavy blue silk robes made her think of the hard-muscled form underneath. As he moved around the ballroom introducing her to people it was a struggle not to be distracted—something every other woman present was having trouble with too, Casey noticed. Who could blame them when Raffa’s charm was edged with hard and rugged splendour? His robes were trimmed with gold, like the agal on his headdress, and there was a dangerous-looking dagger at his waist. And a tassel at his neck …

She leaned a little closer, inhaling as she realised the tassel was scented.

‘Do you like the aroma of vanilla and sandalwood?’ he murmured.

She blushed and pulled away, realising she had invaded the ruler of A’Qaban’s personal space to an unforgivable degree. ‘I like it very much …’ Was it possible not to like the scent of warm, clean, sexy man?

‘You’re right in thinking the tassel is scented,’ he explained. ‘It’s part of my traditional dress, like the khanjar at my waist—my dagger,’ he prompted.

‘Your dagger?’ Casey repeated, feeling this was edging dangerously close to verbal foreplay.

‘You may have noticed that the royal khanjar has a pommel that is smaller than the rest.’

Was he teasing her?

‘Oh …’ Must she sound quite so disappointed?

‘But it is heavily weighted and sharpened on both edges,’ he went on, his lips tugging in the suspicion of a smile. ‘It is infinitely more effective than other, inferior khanjars …’

‘Ah …’

Or so relieved?

She thought for a moment. ‘But if it’s a royal khanjar, shouldn’t it be larger than the rest?’

‘Maybe I have another one I don’t show everyone …’

Ah, again.

‘I see,’ she managed hoarsely.

‘Why, Ms Michaels, I think you’re flirting with me.’

‘No, I’m not—’ Casey’s eyes cleared instantly, but before she had a chance to defend herself properly a guest appeared at Raffa’s elbow.

‘Ambassador, I’d like you to meet Ms Michaels, who has organised the auction for me this evening and is threatening to break all records …’

As he spoke Raffa gave Casey a look that made her tingle all over.

‘Allow me to wish you every success, Ms Michaels,’ the ambassador said, bowing low over Casey’s hand.

The surprise at having her hand kissed didn’t come close to Casey’s surprise at the expression in Raffa’s eyes. He was pleased at the honour paid to her by the ambassador, and yet he was uncomfortable with the other man touching her.

Raffa wanted her, Casey realised with a jolt, and was doing nothing to hide it. His fiercely appreciative look was daunting, and yet it made her feel empowered. Without her realising it he had given her confidence—something she had never thought to have.

It was good to be wanted. And to be wanted by a man she was already a little in love with was the most wonderful feeling on earth. She felt strong as a woman for the first time in her life.

But …

Could she finally live the fantasy? Casey wondered, stealing a look at Raffa. Could she sleep with him?

Her body responded eagerly to the thought, and the expression in Raffa’s eyes as he met and held her gaze said anything was possible if she wanted it badly enough. And as his eyes warmed and his lips tugged with just the suggestion of shared humour she knew she did want it. She wanted Raffa to make love to her more than anything in the world.

Casey surprised everyone except Raffa and his team with the form her auction took. Instead of standing at the podium, which she would have found difficult, she played to her strengths as he had advised and ran a silent auction. It left all the billionaires guessing. There could be no public showing off, and instead all the bids had to be written down in secret.

The buzz in the ballroom was electric. Would this prince or that ambassador offer more than another? Surreptitious glances flew as people tried to guess what bid they would have to place in order to secure the most coveted objects, while envelopes with sealed bids inside were placed in the huge drum Casey had ready.

Perhaps only he could accurately predict that his fellow Sheikhs would err on the side of caution and offer extraordinary amounts, Raffa conjectured, rather than risk being pipped to the post by some inferior rival. Whatever—Casey had guessed it right.

And so the evening progressed, until a new drum was called for and even that was overflowing. Through it all Casey remained modest and charming, and in his eyes more beautiful than any other woman there as she hurried about the vast ballroom working as hard if not harder than any member of the team. She had excelled herself, thinking of everything—gold pens for men who normally had others to write for them, and sparkly crayons for the flock of spoiled princesses. And as he watched her he thought Casey possessed something far more valuable than money. The ability to instigate change for the better. She had displayed courage and determination in turning something so alien to her into a personal triumph.

‘Running this event as a Dutch auction was a stroke of genius,’ he told her bluntly when, after what seemed to him an unfeasibly long time, she returned to his side. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were sparking with success, and he had never seen her looking more beautiful.

‘Thank you,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I think we’ve raised the record you were looking for, but I can’t be sure until it’s all been counted—there’s so much of it.’ She laughed, spreading her hands in innocent wonder that such wealth existed. ‘There’s a team working on it now. It’s a real headache for them,’ she confessed, ‘trying to fathom out who has won what when some of the bids have so many noughts on them they have to count the numbers twice to be sure. And some of the shrewder individuals have even stooped to offering a mix of currencies to confuse the outcome,’ she confided, as if she could not imagine greater shenanigans.

‘Blackguards!’ he exclaimed, taking her arm in his. He felt her immediate response to his touch and hoped she wouldn’t find some reason to pull away. ‘But I’m sure you’ll work it out,’ he said soothingly.

‘I’m sure we will,’ she agreed. ‘And I really should get back to lend a hand …’

‘Not yet.’ He felt the tremor run through her as he held her gaze.

She blushed and looked away, but then said with touching sincerity, ‘Just so long as we’ve done some good for your Bedouin project …’

‘You’ve done more good than you know.’

‘I’d like to think so,’ she said softly.

‘You will be the first to see the results of that. I promise you.’ Even as he spoke he knew he would take her to the desert to see the truth of those words—for how else could he reward someone like Casey?

Raising her eyes, she looked at him, and as she slowly smiled he saw that not only had he regained her trust, but she had grown in confidence again, and that gave him more pleasure than he could safely express.

‘You should be getting back to your guests,’ she reminded him quietly.

‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘but then I’m going to take you home.’

She was instantly alert.