The Sheik's Kidnapped Bride by Susan Mallery Page B

ache in my body.” His gaze narrowed. “There are things a man can’t pretend. The desire must be real. You understand?”
    She nodded slowly. She understood all too well. Gerald had cut her to the core when he’d told her that he’d thought it would be difficult for him to become aroused around her. She knew that she wasn’t the prettiest woman in the world, but she’d never thought of herself as so undesirable that no man could want her. Then Khalil tucked his thumbs inside the waistband of his slacks and pushed down.
    The fine wool fabric bunched low on his belly. It was only then that she realized the unusual shape she’d barely noticed was the hard proof of what he said. He reached inside and drew out his erection. The trousers slipped un-hindered to the floor.
    “I want you,” he said softly.
    “Yes, I can see that.” She pressed her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled, “I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”
    But he didn’t get angry. Instead he grinned at her. “You’re impressed.”
    “Yes, well…” She waved in the general direction of his…his member. “It’s quite lovely.”
    He took a step toward her. “Do you doubt me now?”
    He’d given her fairly substantial proof. She wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t quite. There were the things Gerald had said, plus why on earth would Khalil be interested in her?
    He growled low in his throat. “Stop,” he commanded, moving closer, then kneeling on the bed. “Stop the voices in your head and listen only to me. You will be my woman. Mine and only mine. Do you understand?”
    She stared into his eyes. He was fierce and possessive, and as she looked at him she could see the wild desert behind the man. A shiver rippled through her. Anticipation? Perhaps. Fear? Certainly. But fear of the unknown, not fear of him.
    “Be mine,” he whispered, moving closer. “Be mine, Dora. Let me love you.”
    She was sure there was a perfectly witty response to all that he was saying, but she found herself at a loss for words. She could only wait until he drew his arms around her and pulled her down onto the mattress. Whatever protest she might have wanted to utter was lost at the first touch of his mouth on hers.
    She’d been kissed before…at least a couple of times in high school, once at a frat party in her first year of college, and of course by Gerald. Gerald’s kiss had been practiced, almost clinical. She’d never been kissed by a wild, sensual man, and certainly not one as seductive as Khalil .
    She expected an assault, perhaps with him pushing her, invading her, taking her, but it was nothing like that. His mouth was soft, yet firm, yielding against her own, but leaving her in no doubt of his mastery of the task. He learned the contours of her lips slowly, thoroughly. Every point of contact was fire and heat. He lay next to her, on top of the sheet and blanket, but she could feel the weight of him, and it was delicious.
    One of his hands cupped her face as if he feared she might try to escape. Had she the strength or the will to speak, she would have told him that was not possible. She was trapped beneath him—more because she had nowhere else in her life she would rather be than because of his superior strength. She didn’t fear Khalil ; she knew in her heart he would never hurt her.
    “Dora,” he murmured against her mouth. “I want you. I want you, my sweet desert rose. You are so soft, so warm, so my match.”
    His words were as heady as wine. She’d read about people getting drunk on words, but until this moment she hadn’t believed it possible. He made her writhe with undefined desire. She wanted without knowing what exactly would fulfill her. She needed desperately, but she could not describe the outcome that would most please her.
    “Touch me,” he commanded, then stroked her bottom lip with his tongue.
    She didn’t know which shocked her more—his request or the wet pressure on her lip. Instinctively she parted for