Handcuffed to the Sheikh (Hot Contemporary Romance Novella) by Teresa Morgan

Author:Teresa Morgan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: sheikh, harlequin, short story, harlequin blaze, love story, shiek, shiekh, romance, cinderella and the sheikh, sheik, novella, sheikh romance
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

Max didn't kid herself that he would uncuff her for bed. Nope, she'd be sleeping with him for sure. At least she'd be fully clothed. And he hadn't restricted her to the chair again.

Of course that meant that she'd been attached to him, forced into intimacy as they moved around the cabin. He insisted on washing the dishes, though he'd tried to use the hand soap on the plates and glasses. She'd shown him how to squirt the dish soap into the water, thinking he really had this "Arab Prince" act down pat. Of course a Middle Eastern sheikh would have servants to do this stuff for him.

Then, he'd declared it was time to sleep. They'd gone into the bedroom to find the sheets carefully folded on a mother-of-pearl inlaid chest at the foot of the enormous bed. Seductive mouth turned down in a frown of grave distress, he'd admitted he had no idea how to make up a bed.

"Lucky I'm here, then," she'd said, laughing.

Way too seriously, he'd agreed. "I'm very lucky you're here."

Cuffed together, they'd had a hard time tucking in the fitted sheet, which kept coming off on the other side. She didn't bother suggesting it would be easier if he unlocked her. He might be insane, but he wasn't stupid.

So they muddled it out and she showed him how to make a hospital corner with the flat sheet. He mastered the technique just by watching, and tucked the sheet under the mattress flawlessly on the other side. The way he crossed his arms and nodded his great satisfaction at his work made her smile.

She felt hyper-aware of his every move. The way his thighs flexed in the legs of his low-slung jeans. His chest, solid as the massive mahogany headboard. Most of all, his gaze all over her. He didn't bother to hide his interest, to play it cool. He didn't wait for her to look away. He just drank her in.

Even when she wasn’t looking, she sensed him watching her, and blushed to the tips of her ears.

To distract herself, she travelled back in her mind, searching for when they'd met before.

There were a few Arabic men at her software company. Programmers, mostly. Kalil was the most devout, going into one of the small meeting rooms to pray at specific times of the day, while some of the others didn't even observe the Ramadan fast. None of them were anything like Sayd.

She racked her brain for guys she'd known in college, but none of them were hot as her abductor. She definitely would have remembered him.

The only other candidate was the first boy from the Middle East she'd ever met. But that couldn't be him. It had been kindergarten, for crap's sake. The poor kid's parents had shipped him to Newark when he didn't speak a word of English. He hadn't been a bit like Sayd. Not handsome and confident. Definitely not motorcycle material. He'd been skinny and miserable and alone.

The bullies from fourth grade had picked up on his coffee-colored skin like sharks scenting blood in the water.

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