Older Woman, Younger Sheikh by Teresa Morgan

Author:Teresa Morgan [Morgan, Teresa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-06-29T22:00:00+00:00

An hour later, she sat on a blanket on the beach, watching Amin move through the water like he had been born there and not the desert. He’d swum out so far that her panic nearly returned. She’d had to grip the cell phone he’d left her for security, watching for any signs of distress from him. Not that she’d see anything, with him only a black speck moving through the blue.

Oh, but she did see him emerging from the water like Neptune himself, only missing the trident and full beard. As he did, he raised his arms to slick back his hair, pressing the water out. This lovely maneuver displayed the swimmer’s muscles in his chest like a statue’s pose.

She inhaled a deep breath, feeling all kinds of blood rush to the female parts of her.

Why this guy thought he needed to blackmail-slash-pay someone—especially a woman ten years older than him—to be his mistress was beyond anything she could comprehend. Not a question she was going to ask. Not ever. If she did, he might realize his actions made no sense and kick her to the curb.

Then again, he seemed to want a lot of emotional honesty, as he put it, without wanting to give any back. Without that, he might be the perfect husband for some kind, open woman.

Of course, there was also the little matter of him keeping a mistress.

As he approached her, she lifted one of the towels that had been provided for them, and met him halfway to the blanket.

“Good swim?” she asked, the last of her apprehension for his safety slipping away. He was back, and safe, thank Jupiter, or any deity who cared to listen.

He nodded. “I hope the basket is full. Swimming always increases my appetite. For food.” He looked her over in her bikini.

And other things. The words hung in the air, unsaid.

In the basket that the Miizaan staff had left for them, they found a feast. Amin did not even wait to unpack everything before he tucked in to the first wax-paper-wrapped sandwich he pulled from the stash.

While he ate with one hand and managed to twist the cap off a bottle of water with the other, she brought out the rest of the surprises. The champagne, when she zipped it out of a bottle-shaped wetsuit thing, was surprisingly cold. In addition to a variety of sandwiches, she found cold meats and cheeses, with slices of baguette to put them on. The eggplant dip she placed close to Amin. While she loved the stuff, she couldn’t afford to have her breath smell like garlic.

She set out mango cut into perfect cubes, another favorite, and kiwi-strawberry-pineapple fruit skewers that had been drizzled with chocolate. Perfect miniature pastries, dripping with honey and wafting the smell of cinnamon, completed the meal.

Only when all that was done did she let herself put a slice of Brie on a baguette and add some of that mango.

Amin was right. Swimming made you starving. She’d never eaten anything so delicious.

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