Honeybun Sheik

Honeybun Sheik By Sam Cheever

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Honeybun Sheik by Sam Cheever Red Rose™ Publishing Publishing with a touch of Class! ™ The symbol of the Red Rose and Red Rose is a trademark of Red Rose™ Publishing Red Rose™ Publishing Copyright© 2011 Sam Cheever ISBN: 978-1-4543-0053-3 Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett Editor: Brissa Ryan Line Editor: Red Rose Publishing All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. Red Rose™ Publishing www.redrosepublishing.com Forestport, NY 13338 Thank you for purchasing a book from Red Rose™ Publishing where publishing comes with a touch of Class!

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Honeybun Sheik By Sam Cheever

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Chapter One

Callia Honeybun pulled off her fuzzy boots and lifted her feet to a nearby, leather ottoman. The circular fireplace crackled briskly, throwing off bone warming heat and a pleasant fireworks display of blue and orange sparks. Callia took a sip from a large, black ceramic mug and sighed, closing her eyes in ecstasy. The hot chocolate and mint liquor mix was just the thing to warm her insides, as the fire worked its magic toasting up her frozen exterior. Her muscles were pleasantly tired and sore from a day spent carving her signature on the side of Bard mountain. She looked forward to a very hot bath in her beautiful, mountainside chalet, and then sliding under the downy comforter to read before dosing off. It had been a perfect day. And she planned a perfect night. Bath, book, a sinful snack, and then dreamless sleep. And no men to mar the horizon. Callia sipped again and told herself she was happy about that. Her “self” didn‟t completely believe it.

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She‟d come to the mountain to escape the unhealthy attentions of an ex boyfriend, who‟d been stalking her in a scary way since she‟d broken up with him months earlier. She‟d just needed a break from the stress. As a result of the experience, she‟d sworn off men. It had seemed like a reasonable idea while she was being stalked in Indianapolis. But in the sexy, possibility filled atmosphere of a fire-warmed ski resort, the idea lost some of its merit. In fact, the more Callia sipped the warming concoction in her hands, the more she craved a hot man to take care of the heat gathering in other parts of her body. A few minutes later, she shook her head and set the mug down. She dragged her boots on and stood. Pulling on her down ski jacket, Callia started toward the door on the slope side, where her snowmobile awaited her. A short, fifteen minute ride up the mountain would take her home. And, with a major storm heading into northern Michigan, she‟d probably be holed up there for a while. That was okay with Callia. She had no desire to leave the chalet anyway. No place to go. Nothing she had to do. And nobody to get to.

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Perfect. Yeah. Perfect. She braced herself before pushing open the door and then gasped as the bitter wind slashed at her through the cracked door. Callie pulled her wool cap down over her ears and yanked the jacket‟s fleece lined hood up to cover it, tying it tightly to keep it on her head. The matching gloves were fur lined too, and felt like heaven on her icy fingers. Despite the well insulated clothing, Callia shivered as she headed toward the snowmobile. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees since she‟d come down the mountain on her last run. The snow started falling as she turned the key and popped the kill switch, yanking on the pull starter to engage the powerful engine. As she headed toward the path through the trees that was reserved for chalet residents and their sleds, the snow was already starting to thicken. It hit her face in driving waves, like tiny knives of ice against her skin. Halfway up the mountainside, Callia reached inside her jacket, intending to yank the neck of her turtleneck sweater up over her face. When she looked back up, something large and dark was standing just a few yards in front of her on the path. Callia jerked the handlebars in an attempt to avoid what looked like a bear standing in the middle of the path. Her headlights flashed over thick, brown fur

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and a wet snout under beady black eyes before she hit a ridge of crusty snow and went airborne, heading toward a huge evergreen several yards away. The initial impact jerked Callia forward and sent her flying. Her head slammed into something hard and cold, and she was unconscious before her body crumpled to the ground.

Abdel Ezzat brushed a hand over his visor to clear it of snow. He could have sworn he saw a woman fly by between the evergreens. He stopped his snowmobile and turned it off. The high pitched whine of another engine filled the silence he‟d expected. He climbed off his sled and removed his helmet, settling it on the seat. As he made his way toward the sound of the idling sled, he noticed that the light snow he‟d started his ride in had turned to near blizzard conditions. If he didn‟t get back to his chalet soon, there was a good chance he‟d be stuck out there. He‟d probably freeze to death. He briefly considered turning back, taking his sled home. It was probably just some fool, like him, who‟d thought that a ride in the snow would allow him to hide from the reality of his life for a while. But something about the sound of that engine bothered him. So, against his better judgment, he stepped through the thick copse of evergreen trees.

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She was lying face down in the snow. Not moving. Her head and face were covered by a fur trimmed hood, but it was easy to see that it was a woman. The soft curves were evident in a slim fitting white snow suit and her feet were warmly encased in fur boots. Pulling off one of his gloves, Abdel reached down and found the side of her neck beneath the ski jacket. Despite the bitter temperatures, her skin was warm and oh so soft under his fingertips. Her pulse was strong. He reached down and pulled off a soft boot and scratched the bottom of her foot. The leg twitched. No apparent paralysis. He thought it was safe to move her. Looking toward the sky, he realized she would die if he didn‟t. So he decided to take the chance. He stood up and walked over to her sled, shutting it off. Silence settled over the night like a chilly blanket. The thick, heavy snowflakes drifted silently around them, nearly obscuring the woman within only moments of her accident. Abdel walked back and turned her over . Short, curly, reddish-black hair framed a creamy, brown face with high cheekbones and a thick fringe of lashes that formed feathery arcs against her skin. A jolt of sensual awareness hit him as her lush, red lips and flawless skin were illuminated in the dappled light from his sled on the other side of the tree line. His damsel in distress was delicious.

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Abdel swore. Just what he needed. He scooped her up and stood. His chalet wasn‟t far. And he had people there who could help her. Abdel figured she‟d be fine. The question was, with a beautiful woman in the house, would he?

Callia‟s mouth was dry. Really dry. Like summer in the desert dry. And pain throbbed so hard behind her closed eyelids it made her sick. She reached up and touched her face, feeling her cheekbones with gentle fingers. The skin felt taut and tender, as if someone had filled her head too full and it was thinking about exploding. “You have a concussion.” Callia jumped and her eyes flew open. Knives of brutal light seared her pupils. With a cry she slammed her lids closed again. She tried to speak but her mouth wouldn‟t work. Licking her lips, she tried again. “Who…who are you?” “I am Abdel Ezzat.” His voice was smooth, melodic, and heavily accented. Callia recognized the accent but her mind was too muzzy with pain to identify it. She tried again to

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open her eyes but light was too intense and they wouldn‟t open more than a crack. “Can you douse the lights, please?” “Oh, yes. Sorry.” The sound of finger snapping jolted her system and she jumped. Every sound, every ion of light seemed to stress her super-sensitized body. “You can try again, now. The light is very low.” Callia reluctantly cracked her eyelids. When the pain didn‟t increase, she opened them further. A shadowy shape hovered over her, the outline of a strong jaw and heavy, sensual lips were visible in the edges of the dim light. Thick, black hair fell around the square chin, unfashionably long but very sexy. Broad shoulders and strong arms were encased in a dark colored turtleneck. Between the low lighting and her fuzzy vision, Callia couldn‟t see much more than that. She tried to sit up and stopped, moaning under the wave of pain. A large, warm hand enfolded her arm, gently pushing her back down. “You must rest. You‟ve been given pain medications, but they will take time to work.” Callia lay there for a moment, her eyes closed, and rode out the pain her movement had caused. The warm hand rubbed her arm in gentle circles. Callia sighed under the soothing caress, aware on some level that it was inappropriate given the fact that they were complete strangers. She didn‟t care. It felt somehow right. “Are you a doctor?”

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Silence. She sensed his movement and opened her eyes. He‟d turned to look at someone across the room and was smiling. “No. But I have medically trained personnel here at the chalet with me.” That was when it finally sunk in that she wasn‟t safe in her own home. Panic seeped in to aggravate the nausea already roiling in her stomach. She lay very still and took deep breaths to try to back both down. After a moment the pain started to recede, the panic was buffered under a narcotic haze, and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

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Chapter Two

Abdel watched her sleep. As he‟d suspected, she was American, with the easy way of speaking and lack of modesty he found so endearing in the women of the country. The women in his native country, Saudi Arabia, though they were slowly beginning to assimilate in the world, were still so isolated, so quietly afraid. He frowned, hating that they had reason to be afraid. Changes were needed. Eventually they would come, he was working toward that end, but he knew that centuries of tradition and discrimination would be hard to overturn. All he could do was continue to chip away at it, working it around the edges, until something more palatable awaited a female entering into that world. It would probably take a few centuries more. The woman whimpered in her sleep, her eyelids twitching as if she were having a dream. Abdel glanced around the room to ensure that he was alone before reaching out to touch her hair, pushing it off her cheek. Her skin was like silk and her hair was black satin.

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His loins stirred just from touching her. And her scent. God, she was delectable. Abdel stood up and paced away from her. He knew it would be dangerous having a beautiful woman in his chalet. He‟d made a vow to himself that he would not pursue easy physical pleasures months earlier, when he‟d converted to Christianity and vowed to show by example how women should be treated. Living in America, where women were generally outgoing and comfortable in their own skin, his vow was proving difficult, to say the least. Abdel walked over and poured himself a brandy, swirling the rich liquid in the glass as he stood before the large window overlooking the mountainside. Snow fell in steady sheets outside, obscuring everything behind a curtain of white. Abdel sipped his brandy and tried to forget he had a beautiful woman in his chalet. The tight coil of lust in his belly made that a difficult task indeed. “Prince Abdul.” He turned from the window. His friend and bodyguard, Basilyr, stood just inside the door, his dark, pocked face worried and his large hands crossed before him. “Yes?” “Prince Khayam‟s men have been spotted in Detroit.” Abdel frowned. “How long ago were they seen?” “Caleb saw them a couple of hours ago, Your Highness.”

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Abdel expelled his breath in a frustrated sigh. “Any indication that they know where I am?” “Caleb followed them to a sporting goods store, where they apparently purchased parkas and other cold weather gear.” The man‟s dark eyes were unreadable in the dim light, but his craggy face tensed visibly. “And skis, Your Highness.” Abdel swore, glancing toward the woman. “Not a good time to have a guest, Basilyr.” “No, Your Highness.” “You still have men watching the snowmobile rental establishments?” “Yes, Your Highness.” “Good. Keep me informed.” Basilyr bowed and left, closing the door silently behind him. Abdel turned back to the window, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. The worst had happened. He‟d worked so hard not to bring the wrath of his actions down on others, particularly women. His goal had been to do something to protect the women in his world…not put them in danger. In progressive circles in his country he was considered a Sheik for his work trying to change life for women. Yet here he was, with an innocent

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woman in his home, and the wrath of the Saudi royal family coming down on his head. Abdel sighed. He truly led a challenged life. “Who‟s Prince Khayam?” Abdel turned and saw that his guest was sitting up, her surprising gray eyes wide with alarm. “Please don‟t worry, Miss…” He cocked his head at her, suddenly realizing they hadn‟t had a chance to introduce themselves. “Callia Honeybun.” Abdel walked over and gave her a small bow, reaching for her outstretched hand and kissing the silken skin on the back of it. “I am Abdel Ezzat. I am very pleased to meet you Miss Honeybun.” “Please, call me Callia.” Looking slightly embarrassed, she retracted her hand and dragged the soft blanket she‟d been covered with off her knees, stretching her long legs out in front of her. Then she looked around, her pretty, gray gaze taking in the enormous, snapping fire and the lush furnishings. “You have gray eyes. How very surprising.” The woman turned, astonishment lighting her gaze. “And you are very direct.” He inclined his head and sat down next to her. “I abhor games of any kind. Where I come from they can turn deadly all too quickly.” “Iraq? Iran?”

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“Saudi Arabia.” She nodded, turning on the couch so she could look at him more easily. The impression she‟d gotten of him earlier, before the drugs had knocked her on her ass, was accurate. He was very sexy. His narrow face was dark, olive-toned, and he had a high brow, framed by silky, black hair that swept away from his unlined forehead in soft waves, ending in very attractive curls at the ends. The hair was longish but not long enough to tie back in a ponytail, stopping about the center of his thick neck and curling over his ears. He had wide, dark-brown eyes that sparked with interest when he looked at her. His cheekbones would have made him millions on the super model circuit, especially when paired with the square jaw and dimpled chin. His mouth was wide too, the lips full in the center and narrowing on the edges, like a bow. The bottom lip was very full, and Callia couldn‟t help thinking about how it would taste if she nibbled on it. He wasn‟t a large man, probably only about six foot tall and slight of build, but he looked strong and capable. The thigh next to hers on the couch was hard with muscle and the forearm beneath the light, v-neck sweater he‟d shoved up to the elbows, was nicely chorded.

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Callia definitely liked what she saw. She thought about his admission that he was from Saudi Arabia for a moment. Added to what she‟d overheard a few moments earlier it told her a lot. “I guess, since I heard that man call you „Your Highness‟, that probably makes you one of the Saudi royal family?” He didn‟t respond for a long moment and then he sighed. “It is a very long line and I am very nearly at the end of it.” He turned to her with a smile that made Callia‟s panties damp. Callia found herself returning the smile with one of her own. “And my uncle would like to push me right off the bottom of that long list.” “Would that be Prince Khayam by any chance?” Abdel gave her an assessing look. “You don‟t miss much do you? Brains along with incredible beauty. I do believe I‟ve stumbled upon gold in these here hills.” She laughed. The hackneyed western drawl sounded especially silly accompanied with his middle eastern accent. But the humor didn‟t minimize the appreciative glow in his eyes. Unless he was a consummate actor, he liked her. Not just the way she looked, but her mind too. Callia wasn‟t used to men seeing past her nice presentation to the woman inside. It was a refreshing change. “I come from a long line too…” she assured him, “…of nosy people.”

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She wrinkled her nose but her laughter was filled with warmth rather than bitterness. At that moment, Abdel envied her. She was obviously fond of her family. He stood up and moved across the room to freshen his drink, holding up a glass in silent question. She nodded. “You have a large family?” Abdel poured two fingers into both glasses and walked back, handing her one of the crystal snifters. “Extremely large. I have four brothers and a sister. Each of my parents has five siblings and each of them has a minimum of four offspring. My Uncle Bob has eight boys.” Abdel nodded. He had uncles who had fifty wives and twice that many children. “By American standards that is a large family indeed.” She sipped her brandy and leaned her head against the back of the couch, curling her long, shapely legs beneath her. Her gaze drifted, once again, to the falling snow outside. “It‟s so peaceful here, isn‟t it?” “It is, at the moment.” She rubbed her forehead, frowning slightly. “Is your head all right? You hit it pretty hard.” Her eyes sparkled when she smiled up at him. Abdel‟s shaft jumped and swelled at the sexy gaze. He wondered if she knew how her look inspired a man.

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“You sound like one of my brothers.” Patting the couch next to her she said, “Sit, tell me how a Saudi Prince ended up in upstate Michigan, USA.” He couldn‟t have denied her if his life depended on it. Before he dropped down next to her, he pulled the blanket back over her legs. She shook her head and turned around so she was facing him. “It is a long and very boring story.” Callia sipped her brandy and shook her head. “Now that‟s the first lie you‟ve told me, Abdel Ezzat. Something tells me your story is extremely interesting and…” she cocked her head, “…possibly dangerous?” Abdel sighed. So much for telling her pretty lies. Instead, he opened his mouth and told her the startling truth. “My uncle is trying to kill me.”

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Chapter Three

Callia blinked, swallowed hard, and sat back on the couch, the color sweeping from her face. Abdel reached over and placed a finger under the snifter, lifting it toward her mouth. “Drink. You look like you‟re in shock.” Callia sipped the rich, amber liquid, feeling its heat flood her body and jumpstart her heart. After she swallowed she shook her head. “I can‟t believe it.” “I assure you it‟s true.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, I didn‟t mean I thought you were lying. I just can‟t believe your uncle is trying to kill you. Why in the world would he want you dead? He‟s not worried about you taking his spot in line for the crown, right?” Abdel shook his head. “No. Neither of us is likely to ever be in that position. I‟m afraid I put myself firmly into his crosshairs when I kidnapped his oldest daughter.” Callia spit the brandy she‟d been sipping across the room, choking on the small amount she‟d managed to swallow.

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Abdel pounded her on her back and took the snifter from her nerveless fingers. “You did what?” Her voice was little more than a croak. “It is not as bad as it sounds. Birjis wished to escape her father‟s control. I allowed my uncle to believe I kidnapped her so she would be safe if he managed to find her and drag her back home.” Callia brushed at the amber droplets scattered across her pants and nodded. “Was she in danger?” He sighed and placed his snifter onto the table. “Only of being miserable for her entire life. I cannot explain fully without telling you about how women are treated in our society. It is very complex.” “Can you give me the fifty cent tour?” He grinned. “I love the way you American women think and talk. It‟s very entertaining.” Callia stared at him with an intensity that told him she would not be put off. Finally he sighed. “Things have improved much for women in Saudi Arabia. They are allowed to work now and are becoming quite educated. However, they still cannot drive, cannot do anything that brings them into contact with men, and are not allowed to make any of their own decisions. Before they do anything, they

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must ask the permission of their fathers if unmarried, and their husbands if married. Seeing how their Western sisters guide their own lives, many of our women chafe against these restrictions. Birjis is one of those for whom the restrictions are very painful. She wished to come to the United States and make her own life, out from under the very controlling thumb of her father.” “So you helped her escape?” “I did.” “Why? If what you say is true…and I don‟t doubt that it is…helping her has brought you great danger.” Abdel shook his head and stood, walking over to stare out at the thick curtain of snow outside the windows. “Change comes at a snail‟s pace in my country. It must be engaged from within the religious construct. Women and sympathetic scholars are working to understand religious law so they can identify places where the wishes of man are being portrayed falsely as Allah‟s law, but it takes time to identify these areas and petition the royal family to make the needed changes. Abdullah is the most progressive ruler we‟ve had, but he is still entrenched in the old ways.” “And you watch the women in your family suffer under their restrictions and can‟t stand it.” Callia realized there was much more to the sexy man standing across the room than a truly fine ass and a gorgeous face. Her thighs tightened

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with need and her nipples pressed against the inside of her sweater. She pushed herself off the couch and started toward him. “That is a simplistic way of looking at it but basically correct.” Abdel became aware of her soft, spicy scent first. She smelled of vanilla and exotic fruits. A gentle touch on the side of his face told him just how close she stood to him. He turned and sucked in a breath, finding himself mere inches from her gorgeous face. “In the name of all the woman of the world, I feel I must thank you. Though words seem so inadequate.” She told him. Abdul watched her incredibly sexy lips move as she spoke, and inhaled the sweet musk of her breath as it bathed his face. He wanted to respond with something suitably witty, but found he was speechless against the wave of lust swamping his body. Callia leaned in and touched his lips in a gentle kiss. Heat flooded Abdel‟s body and his pants tightened under a building need. Though relatively chaste, the kiss sent sensual shocks throughout his body, making him all but forget his self-imposed chastity. When she pulled away a moment later, Abdel fought the urge to yank her back. His lips still tingled from her heated touch.

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Abdel reached up and skimmed a finger down her jaw line, grasping her delicate chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I don‟t want your gratitude, Callia Honeybun.” His voice was suspiciously husky. Sexual need was closing off his throat. Her beautiful, gray eyes widened slightly. “Oh. I‟m sorry.” Shaking his head, Abdel settled his snifter on a nearby table and wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her long body up tight against his. “Don‟t be sorry my American beauty, it is I who should be apologizing. For what I want from you is much more tangible, and selfish.” He dragged her into a hungry kiss, his overwhelming hunger muffling an array of warning bells sounding in his head.

Callia had kissed him on an impulse. She hadn‟t counted on his heated reaction to her chaste kiss. Or the strength of the attraction that flared between them. His lips were firm and hot against hers. His scent made her stomach clench with need. Her mind stopped working as he pressed himself full length against her, her senses exploded from the feel of his hands against her skin. Callia‟s hands slid into the heavy silk of his hair, pulling him more deeply into the kiss. Her lips parted and her tongue slipped between his lips to taste him. He tasted of brandy and sensual male animal.

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He moaned as their tongues tangled and Callia‟s hands slid over his shoulders, down his muscular arms, and over his hips, where they moved of their own volition to his fine, round ass. His response was to slant his lips over hers and deepen the kiss even further, while pressing the hard ridge of flesh at his groin against her belly. Heat built between them. Rational thought gave way to mind numbing need. Callia had slipped her hands under his soft turtleneck sweater and was memorizing the lines of his firm back. His hands framed her face, his lips and tongue tasting the skin of her face and neck with an urgency that would have given her pause if she wasn‟t feeling the same intensity. They were so wrapped up in each other that neither of them heard the door open. Neither noticed that anyone had entered the room until the sound of a discrete throat clearing burst their passionate bubble. Callia jumped away from him with a surprised cry. Abdel swore under his breath and turned an angry glare on the unfortunate messenger. “What is it, Basilyr?” The poor man bowed slightly, obviously embarrassed. “Your Highness, we have been unable to contact our men in town.” Abdel frowned. “The snowmobile rentals?” “Yes.”

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He swore again, glancing at Callia. Khayam‟s men were coming. Things were about to get very ugly at the chalet. He needed to get the woman to safety. But how? He turned to the windows and looked out on an impenetrable wall of white. Out there was almost certain death. He turned to her and gave her an apologetic smile. “I‟m so sorry, American Beauty. It appears I‟ve carried you right into the heart of danger.” Callia‟s eyes widened. “Your uncle is coming?” “I‟m afraid so.” She thought about this for a moment and then nodded. Glancing around, she spotted her ski parka hanging over a nearby chair and went to it, digging in the zippered pockets for something. After a moment she came up with a cell phone. Basilyr took a step in her direction, going automatically into protect mode. Abdel held a hand up to stop him. “Who are you calling?” “My cousin, Dolfe. He‟s somewhere on the mountain. He can help.” Abdel frowned. “You are here with family?” He wasn‟t sure if he was happy about that or unhappy. If his motives toward the beautiful woman standing a few feet away were pure he shouldn‟t mind that she had family nearby. That was a seriously uncomfortable thought.

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“No. I came alone. But Dolfe is here because he‟s being protective.” When Abdel frowned, she flipped her fingers in an “it doesn‟t matter” sign. How could she explain the violent ex-boyfriend thing to a guy like Abdel? Callia listened to the phone ring and frowned. “Plus he wanted a vacation, so he‟s killing two birds with one stone.” The phone stopped ringing and a deep voice answered. “Hey!” She dropped onto the couch. “Listen, I may need your help.” She covered one ear and dipped her head, obviously trying to hear better. “You‟re all scratchy, Dolfe.” Abdel watched her for a moment as she spoke to her cousin and then turned to Basilyr. “What is the plan?” “We will put you and the woman in the safe room, Your Highness.” He shook his head. “I‟m not hiding while you fight.” Basilyr opened his mouth to argue. He didn‟t get the chance. “Dolfe wants to know which chalet we‟re in.” Basilyr frowned, his wide, pocked jaw tensing. “I don‟t advise you tell him, Your Highness. You have no idea who the man is.” To her credit, Callia didn‟t try to defend her cousin, she just fixed Abdel with her sexy, gray gaze and waited. Abdel made a quick decision he hoped he wouldn‟t regret. “Number 10, third from the top of the mountain.”

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The man beside him tensed but didn‟t say anything. Maybe he‟d realized that Abdel wasn‟t going to be talked out of fighting alongside his men and they‟d need all the help they could get. Flipping her phone closed, Callia joined them a moment later. “He‟s gonna see what he can do. He said it‟s like pea soup out there, and there are drifts of up to twenty feet along the roads. Hopefully that will slow your uncle‟s men down too.” “Unfortunately, they are used to sand storms and aren‟t easily dissuaded from their task.” Basilyr offered crankily. Turning to Abdel he said, “Your Highness, we must get you and Ms. Honeybun to a safe place.” Callia frowned at him, wondering how he knew her name. “No. Please place Ms. Honeybun in the safe room and bring me my gun.” “Your Highness, I don‟t think that‟s wise…” “This subject is closed, Basilyr.” Callia touched Abdel‟s arm. “I‟m not going anywhere, Abdel. Give me a gun too. I‟m fighting this battle with you.”

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Chapter Four

Both men looked at her with wide eyes. The bodyguard‟s mouth was hanging open. Callia had to smile. “Don‟t worry, I know how to use it. I‟ve been shooting guns since I was twelve.” Abdel‟s head started shaking before she even finished her sentence. “I don‟t arm my guests, especially beautiful women.” His smile softened the words a bit, but Callia bristled anyway. “Look, bud, no offense but I‟m not used to being treated like a Barbie Doll so if you don‟t mind, I‟d appreciate it if you wouldn‟t laugh at me and just give me the damn gun.” He frowned and opened his mouth to respond. Callia tensed for his response. Then all hell broke loose. The large picture window where they‟d been standing earlier burst inward, carrying with it an icy curtain of snow. Bullets pinged all around them, one of them spinning Basilyr toward the floor and slamming his dark head into the

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wooden arm of a nearby chair. An ink blot of bright red spread on the sleeve of his sweater. Abdel threw himself over Callia and pushed her behind the couch. A cacophony of muffled thumps shook the large piece of furniture as the buttery leather was treated to a firestorm of bullets. Callia shoved at his chest with both hands. “Get off me, I need to get to that gun.” He followed her gaze toward Basilyr‟s revolver, which lay beside him on the rug, useless, given the fact that he was right handed and had been shot in the right arm. The interior door opened and several more of Abdel‟s men, dressed in black slacks and black turtlenecks, just like Basilyr, started into the room. They skidded to a stop and dove behind the furniture as a shower of bullets sprayed the room. The onslaught tore at expensive, cherry paneling, pounded the stone fireplace into dust, and ate ragged chunks out of the furniture. Abdel glanced at his head bodyguard. “Basilyr! Can you move?” The man didn‟t respond. He appeared to be out cold. For a long moment Callia tried to struggle out from under Abdel and he kept a firm hold on her. With a scream of outrage, she finally gave up. “Don‟t make me knee you in that very fine groin, Your Highness!”

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It was so outrageous that Abdel had to laugh. He‟d never been spoken to in such a way…and never by a woman. She didn‟t take his laughter well. Her pretty face darkened, her eyes snapped with anger, and her finely shaped black brows lifted in surprise. “All right then, you asked for it!” He managed to lock her knees between his before she could get anything on the attack she‟d promised him. When her head started to shake from side to side in frustration, her arms flailing in an attempt to escape his iron grip, Abdel did the only thing he could think of to stop her. He lowered his head and captured her sweet, warm lips in a kiss. Despite the arctic cold swirling through the room, notwithstanding the tearing sound of two-way fire, and regardless of the pounding of blood through their veins in fear, Abdel‟s body immediately warmed to the touch of her lips and the soft shape of her form beneath his. The world slipped away, the danger slid to the background, and nothing existed except the woman beneath him, and her reaction to his kiss. She stiffened for a moment as his mouth found hers. He held his breath as her lips stayed unresponsive, her long body still taut with anger. But only a heartbeat later she gave a gentle sigh against his lips and her head slanted to deepen the kiss, her supple lips opening to let him in.

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Their tongues tangled together in sweet heat, the kiss building as passion swept them both. His shaft hardened and his balls tightened painfully as need speared through him, building from the tight coil of desire he‟d been carrying almost since the first moment he‟d seen her. As her body relaxed, he lessoned his hold on her, allowing her to pull her arms free and tangle her fingers in his hair, driving him more deeply into the kiss. Her long legs slid free and wrapped around his, her hips arching upward to press her soft belly against the near painful hardness of his erection. Barely audible sounds of wonderment danced in her throat. Abdel inhaled her wondrous scent and wrapped his fingers through her hair. She broke the kiss and forged a sweet trail toward his throat, kissing, tasting, and nipping her way to that sensitive spot just below his ear. Abdel groaned, tipping his head to give her better access. Her lips found his ear, her tongue swept inside, making him shiver with delight. Then her breath touched his skin, its wet heat causing him to shiver, and she said, “Got ya sucker.” Before he could react, she rolled him over until she was on top, and scrambled away, diving toward the gun lying on the rug several feet away.

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Abdel shouted her name and watched in horror as she skidded across the floor, her long fingers sliding around Basilyr‟s gun and lifting it, shooting blindly toward the flash of gunfire amidst the thick blanket of white outside. Despite the fear and horror he felt at seeing her skid across the floor, firing the big gun, Abdel realized his desire for her had only grown. “Incredible woman.” He murmured. And then, as returning fire spit chunks out of the wooden floor around her he added, “Infuriating female!” He leapt to his feet and started toward her, turning to scream at his guards. “Gun!” A heavy, blunt barreled black revolver flew in his direction and he snatched it out of the air, rolling with it to come up next to Callia. She was trying to pull Basilyr around a half wall between the bar and the rest of the room. Abdel fired several times into the wall of white outside, and then reached down and grabbed one arm, helping her pull. Between them they quickly dragged the bodyguard‟s dead weight behind the wall. When Abdel turned to yell at her, she was already on her little cell phone.

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Chapter Five

“I‟m waiting for Alastair, he and Angie are a few mountains over.” Callia covered her other ear and ducked lower as bullets pinged across the top of the bar, sending shards of wood flying in all directions. “I need help now, Dolfe! They‟ve blasted a wall out and they‟re firing at us!” Static filled the line and Callia thought she‟d lost him. But his voice came back briefly and she heard the words, “…right there!” before he hung up. She clicked the phone closed and dropped it into her pocket, moving to the end of the bar to get a better shot at the attacking force outside. She didn‟t get far, a hard, well-muscled arm snaked around her waist and yanked her backwards. “Are you crazy, woman? Get back before you get your head shot off!” Callia swore and tried to break away as Abdel pulled her to her feet and started dragging her toward the door. Four, large, swarthy faced men arrived at one end of the bar and reached for Abdel. “Come, Your Highness. We‟ve readied an exit.”

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Covering fire exploded around them as they ran, full out in a crouched position, toward the interior door. Abdel‟s guards fell in around them, forming a human barrier to the barrage of responding bullets. They burst through the door into a marble floored foyer. Two more men waited by the front doors of the chalet, guns drawn and dark eyes searching the thick blanket of snow beyond the doors. Frigid wind flashed into the foyer, making Callia long for her fur lined parka, which was probably silk and fur confetti at that point. Outside the doors, gunfire flashed and spit. Callia tried to dig her heels in and stop Abdel‟s forward momentum. “Wait! No, my cousin is coming here. How will he find us if we leave?” Abdel jerked her hand. “If we‟re lucky no one will find us when we leave.” Her struggles were useless. Two of Abdel‟s men fell in behind them and used their heavy bodies to keep her moving toward the door. A black hummer sat just feet from the door. They‟d driven it up onto the snow covered sidewalk and over the ornamental shrubs on either side of the sidewalk, crushing them. Callia noted the heavy chains wrapped around the tires. The Hummer was ready for anything.

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Gunfire exploded around them as they emerged from the door. Abdel threw her into the back seat ahead of him and dove in after her. One guard climbed into the front with the driver and another squashed into the back seat with her and Abdel. Callia reached into her jeans pocket for her cell and yanked it free, going to Recent calls to find Dolfe‟s number. But when she dialed she got nothing. Looking at the face of her iPhone she swore silently. No bars. “Hopefully we‟ll be able to get a signal where we‟re going, American Beauty.” Abdel grasped her hand, his dark eyes filled with sympathy. “I want to contact your family as much as you do so they can take you to safety.” “No. I‟m going to help you fight. Dolfe will want to help too.” “It is not your fight, Callia. And it will be very dangerous.” She could tell by the look on his face and his tone of voice that he wasn‟t interested in arguing about it. So she fell silent, determined to help him whether he wanted her to or not. She bit her lip and peered through the smoky glass at the wall of white, silently cataloging the firefly-like bursts of gunfire all around them. It looked like the enemy had dozens of men positioned around the chalet. As the Hummer tore away from the front door of the embattled chalet, Callia tried not to think about the steep, winding roads they‟d need to maneuver to get down the mountain.

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Undoubtedly moving fast. With zero visibility. Or the fact that she‟d just been thrown into a deadly situation with a virtual stranger. And cut off from everyone she knew or trusted.

Two snowmobiles hugged the chair lift line, using the muffled lights at the tops of the poles to keep them moving in the right direction in the murky white mess. The lights of the sleds hit the wall of falling snow and stopped mere feet away, giving an eerie sense that they were drilling their way through vertical snowdrifts with every yard they covered. Their instincts told them to slow down, take shelter, or turn back. But a deeply nurtured sense of family kept them moving forward at a dangerous and reckless rate of speed. One of their own was in trouble and they were gonna find and help her. Or die trying. Dolfe had a headache from squinting into the snow trying to see. It was a worthless exercise, nothing allowed him to see more than large, vague shapes and muted lights.

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Despite that, he constantly scanned the area, his green gaze searching for signs of obstacles in the thick, frigid murk. He almost missed the first spark of gunfire in the distance, thinking it was just glare off the snow from his sled lights. But the second spark showing through the obscurity made his eyes widen. He slowed to a stop. The second sled slid up beside him. Both men hit the kill switch. Dolfe pulled off his helmet, his curly, bright blonde hair glistening in the low light of the lift. Alastair did the same. “Gunfire, up ahead.” Alastair brushed a hand through his close cropped red hair and nodded. “We should be in about the right spot.” Dolfe nodded, unzipping his parka and pulling a large, black gun from his holster. As Alastair dug through twelve layers of winter wear trying to find his gun, Dolfe grinned, his even white teeth showing clearly in the darkness. “Don‟t tell me you put your sweater on over the gun.” Alastair‟s pretty blue gaze was defensive. “I got a new shoulder holster I wanted to try.” “You‟re supposed to wear it over your clothing, moron.”

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“Then it wouldn‟t be exactly concealed would it?” Alastair shot back. He had his coat open, his sweater pulled up, and was trying to reach up under a long john shirt and t-shirt to grasp his gun.” Dolfe started laughing. “Don‟t shoot yourself in the boob.” Alastair had hold of the handle and was trying to extricate it from the layers of clothing covering it. “I‟m an accountant, not an idiot.” “Who says the two things are mutually exclusive,” Dolfe muttered. The sound of a sled running up on them at a ridiculously fast speed brought Dolfe‟s gaze around and his gun up. Three sleds burst out of the murk, heading directly for them. Before Dolfe could even get a shot off, they flew past on either side, moving fast down the mountain. He turned to fire just as a third sled shot overhead, having apparently taken a mogul at just the right speed and angle to gain substantial air. Dolfe and Alastair ducked as the sled‟s snow trail pelted them. The sled disappeared into the murk behind the others, only the sound of its engine providing evidence that it had even been there. Alastair made a victory sound and Dolfe turned with a glare. The other man held his gun aloft, a proud smile on his handsome, red stubbled face. “Got it. This holster works like a charm.”

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Dolfe shook his head and climbed off his sled so he could pull the starter rope. “Dance of the moron,” he murmured. Louder, he said, “No sense chasing those idiots. Let‟s go see if Callia‟s okay.”

Callia had been wrong. Rather than going down the mountain, Abdel‟s men had taken the big black vehicle up the mountain. The road grew more narrow with each mile they climbed and wound tightly across the face of the rocky mountain. Hairpin turns brought them, several times, within a foot of a stomach tightening drop off, with only a short metal guard rail between them and the heart stopping chasm. They stopped once to open a wide, metal gate, to a smaller chalet that was tucked deep in a copse of evergreen trees and backed up against the chiseled wall of the mountain. She knew the ski resort was located at the edge of a state park and figured they‟d left the resort grounds and crossed into park territory. It was kind of hard to tell in the snow, but the chalet seemed particularly isolated. She figured that was exactly why Abdel had apparently chosen it for his back up location. They climbed out of the Hummer and Abdel draped an arm around her shoulders, hustling her through the door being held open by one of his men. Once

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inside, he told his men. “Secure the area and then I want some of you to double back and see if you can get Basilyr out.” “But, Your Highness we can‟t leave you unprotected…” Callia watched Abdel carefully, noting the flashing gaze and slight tightening of his jaw. The other man stopped talking at the first sign of his boss‟ displeasure. She saw new levels of strength and purpose in the sexy stranger standing next to her. “We‟re fine here, Fayad. It will take them some time to find us. By the time they do we will be gone. But I‟m not leaving Basilyr behind.” The man he‟d called Fayad lowered his lids and gave Abdel a slight bow. “As you wish, Your Highness.” Abdel touched her arm and lead her to a small, cozy room with a roaring fire. She moved quickly to the fire, rubbing her frozen arms gratefully. “You had a fire going already? Your people are way efficient.” He smiled, moving to the windows again to look out. Callia realized he did that a lot. Probably came from never knowing what was going to come at him next and feeling some need to meet it with foreknowledge. “We‟ve known my uncle was nearby for hours. We had plenty of time to prepare.” “Then why didn‟t you move sooner?”

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He glanced at her but didn‟t respond. That was when she realized he hadn‟t wanted to move because of her. “Oh. Sorry.” Abdel turned away from the window and fixed her with a smoldering gaze. Firelight flickered across his dark face, making him look dangerous and exotic. Callia realized she was licking her lips and forced herself to stop. Instinctively, her body tightened around a knot of need and she squeezed her thighs tight in response. “Don‟t be sorry, American Beauty. I am not.” His jaw tightened and his hands fisted at his sides. He looked as if he were fighting some internal battle. Watching him closely, Callia thought she could pinpoint the exact moment when he lost the battle. Firelight sparked in his dark eyes. His muscles tightened. His dark head tipped forward, the thick, black silk of his hair touching a clenched jaw. Long, sexy dimples showed in the lean, darkly stubbled cheeks. His biceps bulged and his densely muscled thighs flexed beneath the soft denim of his jeans. His lips parted. He stared at her as if he wanted to eat her. Callia suddenly found it hard to breathe. Good lord! Callia gulped. The man was eminently yummy. She sucked in a breath as he started to move, his lithe form striding effortlessly across the room.

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Directly toward her.

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Chapter Six

Dolfe examined the body behind the bar, his six foot 5 inch, 250 pound form barely fitting into the snug space. Alastair stood at the end of the bar and looked around, his gun held out in front of him. He looked small next to his cousin but, at six foot two with broad shoulders, he was a large man too. The floor of the chalet was littered with splintered furniture, broken glass, and blood, which didn‟t bode well for Callia and her new friend. “He‟s not dead, just out cold.” Dolfe lifted his fingers and looked at the blood on them. “The bullet went right through his arm. He must have hit his head when he went down.” Dolfe ripped a bar towel and tied it around the wound to stop the bleeding. Alastair reached down and picked up an iPhone from the floor at the end of the bar. “Is this Callia‟s phone?” Dolfe stood up and walked away from the injured man, taking the phone from his cousin. “No. She put some girly type skin on hers. Hopefully she has it with her. I made her put a GPS app on it so I could always find her.” Dolfe set the phone on the bar.

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Alastair jerked his head toward the man sprawled behind the bar. “What are we gonna do with him?” Dolfe punched 911 into the phone and then grimaced when nothing happened. “No cell service. I‟m not surprised, I could barely hear Callia when she called me a couple of hours ago. “We‟ll have to wait until the snow slows down. No sense going back out there until we know which way we‟re going.” “It‟s freezing in here.” „Stair hugged himself and made frost rings with his breath. “Yeah, help me get this guy. We‟ll go find a place in the house where the wall isn‟t missing. Maybe we can even start a fire. From the looks of that storm outside it could be a long night.”

Callia‟s feet started to move and she met Abdel halfway. The impact of their bodies when they came together nearly knocked her off her feet. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her upright as his lips found hers in a kneemelting kiss. Callia‟s lips parted hungrily, her tongue spearing his and her breath stalling in her lungs. Heat radiated from his lean, hard body, driving the last of the winter chill from her skin. His hands skimmed her waist, slid around to the small of her back, and skidded upward, under her soft sweater to brand the skin of her back.

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She moaned as he pressed the hard ridge of his shaft against her belly, holding her there with a splayed hand on her back. Her hands slipped beneath his sweater and skimmed up his belly. The skin was so warm and smooth, with defined ridges of muscle that felt like iron bands beneath her seeking fingers. Callia‟s hands found the hard buds of his nipples. When she tweaked them he groaned deep in his throat. Her touch was driving him crazy. Abdel inhaled her sweet scent, twining himself in her softness as he tasted her hot mouth. He slid one hand up her back, beneath her sweater and the other to the delectable roundness of her perfect behind. The world contracted down to include only the silky skin beneath his fingertips and the spicy-sweet taste of her against his lips. His senses flared, engulfing him with need. He couldn‟t remember the last time he‟d experienced this kind of excitement with a woman. Or felt like he would dry up and blow away if he didn‟t keep tasting her. His lips left hers and, with a groan of incredible need, he tugged her soft turtleneck up under her chin and buried his face between her breasts. She cried out as he licked the sweet, fragrant flesh. “Oh, yes. God, Abdel.” She arched her back, driving her soft belly into the place where he pulsed with almost painful need.

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His lips feathered over the ripe mounds of her breasts, reveling in the velvet feel of her warm skin. Her scent, warm and fruity, like fresh peaches, infused his senses. Unable to stop himself, he gathered one large globe in his hand and nibbled the creamy brown flesh, following the soft bites with tender licks and reverent kisses. “Your breasts are beautiful.” In response, Callia twined her fingers into his hair and pressed him closer. Abdel‟s mouth found the rigid peak of her nipple through the satin of her bra. He covered it with his mouth, drawing another moan of delight from her throat. Her hands slid around to his back and past the waistband of his jeans, spreading soft, loin tightening heat across his buttocks. The muscles of his butt tightened with need, even as he squirmed in pain from the pressure at the juncture of his thighs. His shaft thickened impossibly in the constricting denim, creating a painful urgency to remove his jeans. As if reading his thoughts, Callia‟s questing fingers slid around to the front of his jeans, fumbling with the metal button. He shoved the satin cup of her bra to the side and covered her nipple with his mouth. Callia‟s head dropped back and she cried out… An insistent fist pounded hard on the door.

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Abdel groaned and pulled away. He‟d nearly forgotten they were under siege. He had to clear his throat twice before he could get the words out. “What is it?” He was surprised to find he sounded angry. “Your Highness. Sleds are approaching.” Abdel rested his forehead against Callia‟s and swore.

“Any bars yet?” Dolfe asked Alastair. “Not since the last time you asked…three seconds ago.” Dolfe paced in front of the window, looking out at a wall of white and not much else. “She could be in danger right now and we can‟t get to her.” Alastair nodded, his face pale with worry. “I wonder if the computer has a connection.” He dipped his head toward the laptop sitting across the room on a small, ornate desk. “We could text her cell with it.” “Let‟s try it.” Alastair sat down in front of the computer. He was able to open a browser, though it was extremely slow. “It‟s a miracle it works at all in this storm.” Alastair opened the email program. “What‟s her phone number?” Dolfe told him and Alastair typed it into the „To‟ field. “AT&T right?” “Yup.”

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„Stair typed @txt.att.net after Callia‟s phone number and entered the words “Text us back” in the Subject line and “Need your Location” in the body of the email, hitting Send. “Hopefully we‟ll hear back shortly.” “Who are you?” The Honeybuns swung around to face the man on the couch. Dolfe‟s Glock was leveled at the man, his finger on the trigger. Their wounded friend was sitting up, holding his head and grimacing as if he were in great pain. “What have you done with the Prince?” Alastair stood up and walked over to the man. “Prince?” The man focused a hostile, dark gaze on „Stair and said nothing. “Of course.” Dolfe said, still holding his gun steady on the guy. “That explains everything. “You‟re part of his protective team right? What is he, one of the Saudi princes?” The man on the couch just glared at him. “Look man, we‟re here to help. Our cousin is with the Prince. We need to get her to safety.” Alastair explained “Maybe we can help your Prince while we‟re at it.” Dolfe added. The man‟s face turned gray and he closed his eyes on an apparent wave of pain. Alastair had a brother who was a doctor, he knew the signs of a concussion. “You caught quite a knock on your head. I‟m sure it hurts like hell. You got any

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aspirin in this place?” He knew from growing up with seven brothers what a concussion felt like. The man fixed a hostile gaze on him and then lifted a hand to point toward a door at the far side of the room. “My bag is in the bathroom.” “You‟re a doctor?” “Medic training.” While „Stair went to retrieve the bag, Dolfe sat down on the edge of the desk and lowered the gun, resting it across his thigh. “So tell us what‟s going on. How much trouble is your Prince and, by extension, our cousin in?” The man sighed, slumping. and rested his head against the back of the black, leather couch. “Much trouble. Prince Abdel is being pursued by his uncle, Prince Khayam, who is set in the old ways. Prince Abdel is a Sheik, a reformer. He has done great work in the area of women‟s rights in Saudi Arabia. The two men do not get along.” „Stair handed the middle eastern body guard three aspirin and a glass of water. “I can understand ideological differences, but something more must have happened to make this Prince Khayam want to kill his nephew.” The man swallowed the pills and laughed bitterly. “You do not understand Saudi Arabia. You Americans take great pride in your differences. Our society is built upon the idea of conformance. Our laws come from our religious beliefs and

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take much time and blood to reform. Prince Abdel has been a marked man from the first day he spoke out against them.” He glanced sheepishly at the two Americans. “But there was something…” “What?” Dolfe was distinctly uncomfortable with the man‟s demeanor. He grew even more uncomfortable when the middle easterner appeared reluctant to tell them what this Prince Abdel had done. “Come on, man. Our cousin is with this guy.” “She is in no danger from Prince Abdel. In fact she could not be safer. At least on a personal level. But Prince Khayam is very angry with Prince Abdel and will not stop until he is dead.” “Why?” Alastair asked again, impatience coloring his tone. “What could your Prince have done to piss his uncle off so badly?” The man sighed. “He kidnapped his cousin. And brought her to the United States to marry the man she loves.”

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Chapter Seven

“How did they find us so quickly?” Fayad shook his head. “I don‟t know, Your Highness.” Callia stepped forward. “Check the car. They might have put some kind of GPS on it.” The bodyguard gave her a long-suffering look and then turned away, obviously choosing to ignore her. Abdel nodded. “Yes. She is right. Check the car over very carefully.” “There is no time, Your Highness. We must leave.” “If you leave now and there is a tracking device on the car they‟ll just follow you and you‟ll burn another hidey-hole.” Abdel thought about this for a moment and then nodded. “Do it, Fayad. Quickly. Then we‟ll leave.” The text message tone sounded on Callia‟s phone and she pulled it out, surprised that anything had managed to get through. She‟d had no bars for over an hour.

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The message was from an unknown computer but she recognized its tone. It was from Dolfe. “You certainly know a lot about sieges and skirmishes.” Callia glanced at him, smiling. “I served in Afghanistan for four years. Now that I‟m a civilian, I own a security company. I provide protection for politicians and public figures in a variety of venues. Sometimes I help my cousin, Dolfe. He‟s a private investigator.” Abdel‟s mouth hung open. Other than the women he‟d met in Israel who served bravely in their military because they were expected to, he‟d never met a woman who could hold her own in war and warlike situations like his American Beauty could. He‟d never met a woman who chose to perform dangerous, violent work. Laughing, she reached over and touched his chin with an exquisitely soft fingertip. “You might want to close your mouth. Drooling is undignified in a prince.” Abdel frowned, progressive he might be, especially when compared to most of the men in his country, but he had been raised believing that women were soft, nurturing, and helpless. “Your resume is very impressive.” She shrugged. “It‟s a job and I‟m good at it.”

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The door opened and Fayad returned. He stopped in front of Abdel and held out his hand. A small, black electronic device sat in his palm. Callia took it from him, examining it closely. “Where did you find this?” “Under the dashboard.” Her gaze sharpened. “At the other chalet, where was the car before you brought it up?” Fayad frowned. “In the garage.” “And someone was with it the entire time after you brought it to the front door?” “It was only out there for seconds but, yes.” She nodded, turning to Abdel. “You have a traitor in your group.” Fayad made an indignant noise. Abdel frowned. “Why do you say this?” She handed him the device. “Whoever planted this had to have done it before the car was brought out of the garage. I assume the chalet was well guarded on the outside perimeter?” Abdel looked at Fayad and the man nodded, glaring at Callia. “That means it was most likely someone who had inside access to the garage. One of your men.”

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Abdel stared at the floor for a moment, obviously struggling with some decision. Finally, he scrubbed a hand over his face and turned to his bodyguard. “Leave us please, Fayad.” Abdel followed his bodyguard to the door and locked it behind him. Callia‟s emotions roiled as she watched him stride back toward her. It occurred to her that she should probably be afraid. The man walking toward her was a virtual stranger and, though incredibly sexy, he was an unknown quantity. He was also very strong and looked truly pissed off. She just hoped he wasn‟t mad at her. Most significantly, he‟d just locked the two of them into a room together. As Abdel stopped before her she met his dark gaze and immediately forgot any notion that he might harm her. There was no anger in his sexy gaze. Only weariness. “What you have said caused me to see a missing piece in a puzzle I‟ve been struggling to complete for several weeks now. I was not understanding how my uncle repeatedly was able to find me, no matter where I went or what I did. Now it makes perfect sense.” He turned away from her and paced over to the window again, crossing his arms over his chest in thought. “Unfortunately I have no idea who the defector is among my men. I hand selected them according to their years of loyal service. It could as easily be Fayad as any of them.” He turned back to her.

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“So I have made a difficult decision, American Beauty. I wish to hire you to be my bodyguard.”

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Chapter Eight

“Where would they have gone?” Dolfe turned away from the window and watched the man who‟d introduced himself as Basilyr walk over and pick up the cell phone they‟d found behind the bar, stuffing it into his pocket. “We have another place higher up the mountain.” “What are the chances this Prince Khayam will find them there?” Alastair stuffed the aspirin bottle back into the black, leather bag and zipped it up. “Unless they managed to follow the car they would never find them.” “Could they have followed the car?” Basilyr shook his head. “Not if Fayad followed protocol. They would have left three men behind to cover and repel.” Dolfe nodded, still watching the road outside the chalet. “Good. Then we can assume they‟re safe where they are. Which gives us some time to get to Callia and get her out of there.” Basilyr looked shocked. “What of Prince Abdel?” Dolfe shrugged. “I assume you and your men can take care of him. My priority is my cousin.”

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A tone sounded on the computer and Alastair turned. It was a reply from Callia. He clicked on the email to open it up. The body of the email contained just a few, obscure words. Going under. Need cover. Trust no one. “What did she say?” Dolfe moved away from the window and read Callia‟s cryptic note over his cousin‟s shoulder. The two men shared a glance. As Basilyr walked over, Dolfe reached down and hit the Delete button. “They‟re up the mountain.” He turned to face the other man. “You feeling up to a sled ride?” The older man glanced out the window. The snow didn‟t look like it had abated. “Maybe we should wait until the weather calms a bit.” Dolfe started pulling on his snow suit. Alastair grabbed his too. “We‟re going now. You can stay here if you want.” The middle eastern bodyguard scowled back. “I will come.” “Good.” Dolfe gave the man an insincere smile. Touching Alastair on the shoulder, he drew him across the room. „Stair glanced at Basilyr‟s dark, suspicious face before asking, “What the hell did Callia‟s message mean?” Dolfe just shook his head. “She needs us to confuse things a little while she gets the prince away.” Alastair frowned. “Why her? What about his men?”

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Ignoring him, Dolfe tapped the bulge beneath Alastair‟s sweater. “If you want to be any help at all to me you‟ll put that holster on outside your shirt, the way it‟s meant to be worn.” Alastair scowled at him for a minute and then turned away. “I need to visit the men‟s room for a minute.” Dolfe snorted. “You do that, accountant.”

Callia squinted against the wall of snow and realized they could ride the sled right off the edge of a mountain and never know until it was too late. Visibility was zero. And with the wind howling around them and the throaty roar of the sled obscuring sound even further, she knew they‟d be totally unaware if another sled came up on them. She‟d instructed Abdel to keep the sled on the slope, away from the road, but tracking to the tree line, which she knew followed the road at least halfway down the mountain. In the raging snowstorm the trees were barely visible. Snow piled up along their trunks, providing an obscuring curtain of white over the thick branches that was making it harder and harder to see them.

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Callia held tight to Abdel‟s waist with one arm, the borrowed Glock clutched in her other hand, held down by her side. She struggled to find landmarks in the murk, particularly a wall of rock that loomed over the road in the area she sought. Every once in a while they‟d shoot past a chalet, huddled on the steep slope of the mountain in a whirlwind of snow and wind. She recognized them as structures only by the rectangular glow of their windows. Which called to her like a siren song at the edge of a roiling sea. Callia licked dry, chapped lips and fought a sense of envy. She‟d give anything to be one of those lucky saps in the chalets. She pictured them cuddled up in front of a fire with a brandy and a good book. Or, even better, rolling around naked on a fur rug with the partner of their choice. Callia‟s thighs tightened on a wave of lust, remembering the wonderful, steamy moments with Abdel before Fayad had rained on their parade. Instead she was running for the life of the man in front of her on the sled, and her chances of curling up in front of a fire anytime soon were less than great. Her hip vibrated and Callia pulled the thick, borrowed glove off her hand so she could dig her phone out of her pocket. Her fingers froze almost immediately as she held the phone up to the plastic faceplate of her helmet and struggled to read the text.

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It was from the same computer that had sent her the earlier text. The words on her screen were brief and to the point. Going into the pit. Hate snakes. Will await your instructions. Callia chuckled. Dolfe LOVED the Indiana Jones movies. But she got his drift. He and „Stair would deal with Abdel‟s men while she and Abdel slipped away. She‟d known she could count on her cousin. She slid her phone back into her pocket and gratefully tucked her frozen fingers back into the warm glove. When she lifted her head, she blinked. A pair of headlights was bobbing toward them from the mountain below.

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Chapter Nine

Alastair walked out the front door of the chalet and dove sideways as a bullet ripped the wood of the doorframe, mere inches from his head. He landed in a pile of snow and grunted as his shoulder hit a hidden rock. He looked up just in time to see Basilyr emerge from the house with his hands stretched out in front of his body. The man yelled something in Arabic and several dark skinned men in black snowsuits moved out from behind a black hummer that hadn‟t been there a few moments earlier when they‟d scoped out the exterior of the house. A rapid fire discussion in Arabic followed, during which Dolfe emerged from the house, standing directly behind Basilyr with his gun held down at his side. Just in case. “What‟s going on, Basilyr?” Dolfe‟s voice was husky with suspicion. His green gaze swept the horizon, obviously looking for more guys with guns. “Who are these guys?”

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Basilyr dropped his hands and turned his head. “They are Prince Abdel‟s men. They‟ve returned for me. They thought you were from the attacking force.” His dark gaze slid to „Stair, still lying on his back in the snow. “I apologize.” „Stair climbed to his feet, throwing a glare toward the prince‟s men. “They almost killed me. We don‟t shoot first and ask questions later in this country, Basilyr.” “Many problems might be solved if you did.” Basilyr‟s craggy face changed as he smiled. Dolfe chuckled. “Can‟t argue with you there, Basil.” The bodyguard frowned at the shortened version of his name but said nothing. He turned as one of the new arrivals approached, a long, black gun that looked suspiciously like a sawed off shotgun held down at his side. His finger was on the trigger. The man started to talk in Arabic but Basilyr shook his head. “English, Fayad.” He jerked his head toward the two Honeybuns. The man fixed them with a hostile gaze but nodded. “The prince sent us to retrieve you. We must hurry back. He is virtually unprotected.” Basilyr nodded. “These men are the woman‟s family. They wish to take charge of her.”

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Fayad nodded, his dark face looking relieved. “Good. We cannot protect the prince when he is worried always about her.” Dolfe snorted, sharing a grin with Alastair. Obviously they didn‟t know Callia. They piled into the Hummer with Basilyr and Fayad. Three more men melted over the hill at the far side of the road and soon emerged riding sleds. The procession started to climb up the mountain.

When Abdel stopped the snowmobile, Callia told him, “Let me do the talking.” After a moment he gave her a stiff nod, his entire body rigid. It was obvious to Callia that the poor man was unused to having a woman protect him. The rider of the other sled wore a ski patrol jacket and, from the rigid set of his shoulders, appeared angry. He stopped his sled a few feet away from them and pulled off his helmet, fixing them with a hostile gaze. “No one is supposed to be on these slopes right now. It‟s very dangerous.” Callia squeezed Abdel‟s hand on her knee, warning him to remain silent. She pulled her helmet off and shook her hair out, subjecting the young man to her million dollar smile.

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“I‟m so sorry! We were way, way up there at the top when the storm hit. We‟ve been trying to get downhill all this time.” She bit her lip, letting her gray eyes go all wide and sad. “I‟m glad we made it back, I thought I‟d just die from the cold.” Abdel‟s body stiffened at the sound of her husky voice, obviously fashioned for flirting. Callia squeezed his hand again. “I‟m sorry to hear that, Miss.” The man‟s rigid, no nonsense stance softened and he finally smiled at her. “Would you like an escort?” “That won‟t be necessary, I can see my chalet from here.” Her million dollar smile brightened to the trillion dollar model and the man staggered back. “And look there!” She exclaimed. “The snow is finally slowing down.” The man looked skyward and returned her smile. “Why so it is.” He leveled a heat filled gaze on her and took a step closer. “Are you sure you don‟t want an escort? I wouldn‟t mind, really.” Abdel made an outraged sound and, before she could stop him, he‟d tugged her arm closer around his waist, holding it possessively with one of his arms. Despite her irritation, Callia‟s body exploded into awareness. She tightened her thighs against the wave of pure desire that swept through her. “We‟ll be fine. But thank you so much for your kind offer.”

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She dropped her helmet over her head and squeezed Abdel‟s waist in silent command. He started the sled and Callia gave the ski patrol a jaunty wave as they took off toward the road, heading for the nearest chalet. At the chalet, they stopped long enough to switch positions. Callia wanted to drive and they needed the ski patrol, who‟d stayed where he was watching them until they climbed off the sled, to believe they were going into the chalet. “Where are we going?” Abdel shouted as they took off again and she shot across the road, diving into a snow painted woods. She slowed the sled only slightly as they entered the dense wood, spearing it between the tall evergreens like she‟d been driving snowmobiles through uncharted woods all her life. She just shook her head, concentrating hard on her driving. Abdel was wound tighter than a mouse at a cat convention. Aside from being in a position to let a woman protect him, when every instinct in his body told him to stand between her and any danger they encountered, he‟d been caught totally off guard by the feelings her flirting had engendered back there. The woman had gotten under his skin faster than he‟d imagined possible. She was an incredible woman, unlike any he‟d ever met, and she‟d already burst through the glass ceiling he‟d been working so hard to dismantle all his life. If ever Abdel could trust a woman to be more competent than he was, this was the woman who could do it.

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That wasn‟t what worried him. What concerned him the most was the fact that he never wanted to let her go. While he knew that keeping her was impossible. His life was just too dangerous. He couldn‟t in good conscience drag another human being into the danger. His uncle would never stop hunting him. And he already cared way too much for the beautiful woman in his arms to subject her to that. So their relationship was doomed before it had even started. For the first time in his life, Abdel wished with all his heart that wasn‟t the case.

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Chapter Ten

“Where is Prince Abdel?” Fayad stood in the center of the empty room, his dark face paled to a sickly olive-gray. “I do not know. I left him safely locked in this room.” Dolfe and Stair shared a look. “You locked him into the room?” Fayad had the good grace to look shamed. “I did it quietly. He did not know that I did it. I did not trust him to stay where I left him.” Basilyr stared at the younger man as if he‟d sprouted devil‟s horns. “You locked the Prince into his room like a naughty child. Have you lost your mind, Fayad?” The man flapped his lips and grew even paler. “Apparently my suspicion was correct, Basilyr. He is gone, is he not?” “You left him helpless, Fayad.” Dolfe avoided Alastair‟s gaze for fear he‟d start laughing. Helpless was not a word they would ever use when referring to Callia Honeybun. He forced himself to frown at the bodyguard. “What if his uncle‟s men came while you were gone and snatched him?”

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Basilyr shook his head. “They would both be dead. Or the woman would be, at the very least. Prince Khayam would not leave a witness, particularly an American female. He has no respect for your women. And if she talked to the authorities she could make things, uncomfortable for him before he returned to Saudi Arabia.” Alastair shook his head. “You don‟t know Callia. She wouldn‟t just stand there and let them harm your prince. She‟d protect him with her life.” The middle eastern men laughed as if he‟d told a great joke. Basilyr shook his head. “Prince Abdel does not hide behind a woman for protection.” “Callia is former military. She‟s a crack shot and a black belt in karate. She‟s not your average helpless female.” Dolfe had finally had enough of the other men‟s dismissive attitude. He‟d helped Callia with her training and was proud of her accomplishments. The older man frowned. “That may be, but Prince Abdel is also well trained and very good with a gun, he will not allow a young woman to stand between him and danger.” Alastair murmured, “Sounds like the perfect couple.” Dolfe grinned. “You can believe what you want, Basil, old buddy, but I‟m putting my money on the fact that your prince and my cousin are safe somewhere, hiding out until things can be sorted.”

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Basil frowned. “Sorted? What do you mean?” Dolfe glanced at Fayad and the other men in the room. “One of you is a spy for Abdel‟s uncle. That‟s why he and Callia left. They‟ve gone underground until they can figure out which one of you is a snitch.” All four men made outraged sounds. Guns came up and bullets dropped into chambers. A couple of them took a menacing step toward Dolfe. “Way to sugar coat it, cuz.” Dolfe glared at the bodyguards, his gun in his hand and pointed back at them. Alastair hadn‟t even seen him draw it. “They‟re big boys, they should be able to take it.” “It is a matter of honor with us.” Basil informed him. “What you have accused us of would be punishable by instant death in our country.” “I didn‟t accuse all of you.” His green gaze swung across the assembled men. “Only one.” Several dark gazes sharpened with anger, a couple of them slid sideways, showing guilt. Dolfe didn‟t miss the fact that Basil hadn‟t seemed surprised by his announcement. When the older man turned to the rest of the guards and spoke quickly, in Arabic, Dolfe knew they were about to get down to it.

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He watched carefully as the four men left the room. Then he turned back to Basil. “How do I know you aren‟t the one?” Basilyr shrugged. “You do not. But since I was wounded and left behind, it seems I am the least likely candidate.” Dolfe continued to glare at him. Basilyr finally sighed. “I know about your cousin‟s military background, and her work as a bodyguard. I took her license from her pocket while she slept at the chalet and ran a background check on her.” Dolfe‟s eyes widened slightly. “And?” “If I had wanted Prince Abdel harmed I would have killed her as she slept last night. I knew as soon as I read her profile that she could protect him…if necessary.” “You knew there was a spy among you?” Alastair looked surprised. “We suspected. Which is why I have stayed very close to the prince for the last week. No one else has been allowed primary protection of him for several days.” “Until you were hurt.” The older man sighed again. “Yes.” “So you knew he would ask Callia to be his guard?” “I did. I encouraged it. Only in the event that I was indisposed of course.”

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Dolfe shook his head. “I have to admit I‟m a little surprised, given the attitude about women in your country.” He gave them a sad smile. “We treasure our woman, Mr. Honeybun. We try to protect them as much as we can. Perhaps too much.” “Yet you hired our cousin to protect your prince?” “We are learning to adjust, Mr. Honeybun. And sometimes you take what Allah gives you and you don‟t…how do you say…look a gift camel in the nose?” Alastair chuckled. “I wouldn‟t do that even if the camel wasn‟t a gift.”

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Chapter Eleven

They entered Callia‟s chalet wearily, guns drawn. Callia had driven them all over the hill, through town, and back up the mountain through a circuitous route to ensure that they wouldn‟t be followed. They‟d stopped only a few times, to get more fuel and to allow her to make several phone calls. At one point they‟d returned to the place on the side of the mountain where she‟d crashed her sled and switched, ensuring that there would be no tracking devices on the sled. When she thought it was safe, in the wee hours of the morning, she finally headed for her chalet, intending to get an hour of sleep and some food and hit the road again. This time in her black MKX. Which she‟d had specially decked out for protection detail. They were leaving the mountain and the state of Michigan behind. After determining that the chalet was empty, Callia set her gun on the counter dividing the chef-style kitchen from the main living area of the small chalet. She removed her jacket and reached for a book of matches, lighting three fat

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pillar candles on the counter. “We‟ll leave the lights off tonight. The less attention we draw to this chalet the better. “You think they‟re still out there?” Callia glanced at him and something pulled at her heart. His handsome face was lined with weariness. Dark circles underscored his sexy eyes. Before she knew what she was doing she‟d reached out and was running a finger alongside his jaw. “They‟ve come this far, they‟d be stupid to give up when they‟ve run you to ground on this mountain.” Reaching up to capture her hand, he turned his head and placed a tender kiss in her palm. Callia closed her eyes and shuddered with pleasure. “Your skin is like ice.” His lips moved to her wrist and he pressed another kiss there, inhaling her sweet scent, where her pulse beat under his lips. “You look exhausted.” Callia‟s eyes opened and she gave him a lazy smile. “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you.” Abdel gave her arm a gentle tug and pulled her into his body. The impact of her soft form hitting his was more than physical. His pulse picked up as soon as their bodies met and his shaft thickened in his pants. His lips touched her chin and trailed along the velvet edge of her jawline. He found the tender spot beneath her ear and nuzzled there. “You smell of sweet and spicy things.”

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Callia wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tipped her head, giving him free reign of her neck and throat. His hands found the hem of her sweater and skimmed beneath it, sliding upward, over the heated velvet of her skin. She responded with a soft moan, low in her throat, which caused his breath to hitch in his lungs. Abdel knew he should stop. For so many reasons. But the woman in his arms was like a drug to him, impossible to resist though he knew nothing good could come from their being together. Her soft lips found his and she pulled him into a hungry kiss. His nerve endings fired and blood pounded through his veins. As her sweet tongue tangled with his, Abdel‟s body surged into renewed awareness of his need for her. Without conscious thought, his hands found the clasp of her bra and opened it, sliding around to encompass the silken heaviness of her generous breasts. Her hands pulled at his coat, tugging it over his shoulders and dropping it to the floor at their feet. She deepened the kiss, her hands sliding beneath his turtleneck to tease across the taut planes of his belly. His skin quivered under her soft touch. The coil in his belly tightened beyond hopeful expectation, plunging into bright, hot need.

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When she covered his pecs with her soft hands and tweaked his nipples, Abdel groaned and pulled her hips so that he could grind his throbbing shaft against her. “God, you make me crazy, American Beauty.” His skin quivered under her questing touch. Callia nibbled his full bottom lip tenderly, her fingers forging a memory of his delectable form that her mind could hold as her body heated. Callia‟s fingers slid around to his back. She speared a hungry tongue between his lips and skimmed her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans, at the small of his back. He groaned as her fingers touched the ultra sensitive skin. “Let‟s get these clothes off and get more comfortable.” She told him in between heated kisses. Abdel sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “I should not.” He turned away from her and Callia almost cried. Her body throbbed with need for him. His taste lay sweet and warm against her lips. If he walked away from her… She reached for his hand, holding him there. “Yes. You definitely should, Abdel.”

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Holding his dark, hungry gaze, Callia pulled his hand to the vee at the top of her thighs. As she pressed his big hand there, he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. She knew she was moist with need. He‟d be able to feel it through the stretchy fabric of her ski pants. His thick fingers pressed the place where she throbbed and wept for him. Callia dropped her head back and made a small sound of lust deep in her throat. “Yes. Right there. Oh my god!” She shivered under his touch. If she didn‟t have him inside her soon, she‟d surely die. Abdel took a step closer and found the long, silken column of her throat with his lips. Her scent folded over him, pulling him away from reality and into a warm bubble of lust and need that he knew he wasn‟t man enough to extract himself from. Not until he‟d taken her in every way a man needed to take his woman. She shivered again and he realized the room was cold. Still trying to fight off the overwhelming desire raging through him, he tugged on her hand. “Come. Let‟s get you warm.” He pulled her across the room and left her standing on a soft, fur style rug as he bent to build a fire. Within moments he had it built and stood, turning back to her.

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His gasp made her smile. She stood before him, tall, firmly rounded, and completely naked. Her clothes lay in a tumbled pile at the edge of the fireplace light. Her breasts were round and heavy, with large brown areolas and rigid nipples. Despite the cool room, her nipples were not pebbled. The rigidity was from sexual need. Her waist was slim, her hips taut and round. Her legs were long and leanly muscled, with a dark vee of curly black hair shimmering at the juncture of her taut thighs. Firelight kissed her high cheekbones and glistened in her eyes. She looked like an Amazon princess. A warrior whose sensuality was her deadliest weapon. When she spoke, her voice was deeper than normal, hoarse with need. “I was hot, so I took the liberty of removing some of my layers.” His mouth dried up and the air clenched in his lungs. He found himself chuckling, even as the coil of need tightened to a painful state in his gut. “You do seem to have only the most basic layer left.” She grinned. “Come over here and we‟ll see if you‟re hot too.” Abdel‟s jeans felt as if they would cut him in half. In that moment he knew. Nothing short of armed combat would stop him from taking the beautiful woman standing before him. Damn the consequences. They‟d deal with those in the morning.

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For now, the night was theirs, and the American Beauty he held in his arms was determined to be his. Who was he to deny her?

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Chapter Twelve

“Have we heard from our man?” The Prince‟s servant, Mohammed, bowed lower than strictly necessary because Prince Khayam demanded obeisance as if he were king. Never mind that it was highly unlikely he‟d ever be king, the man had a very high opinion of his chances that facts and reason could not seem to touch. “Your Highness, he just contacted us. The prince has run off with some woman.” Beneath his keffiyeh, Khayam‟s eyes grew wide in shock. His lips curled with disgust. “Cavorting with American whores. My nephew has fallen even lower than I would have expected.” “Yes, Your Highness.” Mohammed kept his gaze on the floor, wary of the result if the prince should think he‟d dared to catch his eye. Khayam pulled his fur coat closer and stared out the window of the Escalade, thinking. Finally he said, “Find out where the woman is staying.” “Yes, Your Highness.” Mohammed bowed and backed away from the car, pulling a cell phone from the zippered pocket of his ski jacket.

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Callia sucked in a breath as Abdel slid black, silk boxers down his thighs. She sat on the soft, white rug, firelight dancing over her skin and her body thrumming with the need to touch him. She caught his gaze and felt her chest tighten at the look in his sexy, dark eyes. Hunger for her shone clearly there, making her body clench and weep with desire. Broad shouldered and golden brown, Abdel‟s body was perfection in the male form. His pecs were firm and round, with perfect brown nipples that looked like they could cut glass as he stared down at her. Her gaze followed the sculpted lines of his hard belly downward, past a slim waist and narrow hips, to where a thin line of dark hair started, just below his belly button, and forged a trail to heaven. His legs were thin and softly furred with dark hair. Muscle bulged above his knees and at his calves, keeping them from being skinny. His biceps and a distinctive cording in his sexy forearms gave further proof of his understated strength. His hands were large, the fingers thick, and they were clenched in loose fists at his sides. He all but vibrated with emotion. Her lips parted and her tongue came out to sweep across them, tasting the sweetness of his kisses still lingering there. “You‟re gorgeous, Abdel.”

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He pulled air into his lungs, expanding them visibly, and his fingers unclenched slightly. That was when she realized he‟d been afraid of how she‟d perceive him. Smiling softly, Callia lifted a hand. “Come here.” Abdel stepped onto the rug and lowered himself to his knees, his hands hanging at his sides, fisted with tension as she climbed to her knees too. Callia crawled to him, not stopping until she was close enough to feel the heat of his body radiating against her skin. His thick, hard shaft lay against her belly. He groaned as her hands found his hips, pulling him into her softness. Still his hands hung at his sides. But his chest heaved from the effort to remain passive. Callia leaned close and placed a whisper soft kiss on his lips. “You can touch me.” He shook his head. “I do not wish to dominate.” Her lips found the corner of his lush mouth and branded him there, following up the soft touch with a flick of her tongue. He groaned again and, against his will, his hips pressed toward her, driving the hard heat of his flesh into her belly.

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Callia moaned and tasted the other corner of his mouth. Her hands slid upward, along his sides, and over his delectable pecs. She tweaked the hard buds of his nipples. Abdel‟s lips parted and he sucked in a breath. “American Beauty, you test my willpower.” She smiled, capturing his lush lower lip between her teeth. “That‟s the plan, Abdel.” One silken hand slid around to cup a firm buttock, the other slid downward, toward the throbbing shaft lying against her rounded belly. Abdel all but held his breath as the soft fingers enveloped him, wrapping him in a warm fist that made him cry out and grab her elbows, squeezing them as a tsunami of lustful feelings rolled over him, creating a new kind of madness in his mind. He‟d wanted to allow her complete control. He thought that was what American women liked. To control their sexual destinies. But Callia seemed to be delighting in testing his limits. And he was very close to losing his good intentions and driving himself deep and hard inside her. “Do not tease me, beauty.” The hand on his shaft slid downward to cup the taut firmness of his balls. “Or what, Abdel? What will you do to me?”

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His groan sounded wrenched from the very depths of his soul, his fingers on her elbows tightened to the point where he feared he would hurt her. With an epic will, Abdel forced himself to release her, fisting his hands instead and resting them on her shoulders. “I must retain control or I will fling you to your luscious backside and drive myself deep inside you.” Far from being alarmed by this possibility, Callia made a purring sound deep in her throat and kissed one of his nipples, pulling it into the hot, wet cave of her mouth. He held his breath as she kissed her way down his stomach, not believing his good fortune. His shaft throbbed and jumped in anticipation. She hovered over him for a moment, and Abdel fought the violent urge to grab her soft head and push her downward. Need sent fiery lances of near pain through his belly. His shaft wept from the force of his lust. Cool air danced across the rigid flesh, making his balls jump with surprise and frustration. The cursed woman was blowing on him. Abdel thought he might explode. A growl formed in his throat, for just a moment he forgot he‟d switched to Christianity and years of indoctrination kicked in. “Allah save me,” he murmured, and he thought he heard her chuckle. Then she dropped her head and heaven enveloped him.

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Warm heat, combined with a delicious pressure that made his thighs quiver, encompassed his shaft. Abdel‟s head dropped back and he growled out her name as Callia sucked his shaft deep into her throat and then slid it back out, forming her lips into a firm line to increase the pressure against the rigid flesh. She gently squeezed his soft balls and ran a finger along the seam, from his balls to his anus, feeling him tense as she came close to that hallowed ground. She retreated, putting pressure on the uber sensitive area just behind his balls, and then moved backward, feeling him tense again. She repeated the process until he stopped tensing, all the while keeping up a slow and steady sensual assault on his hard shaft. His muscles turned to butter and his breaths came in short, sharp bursts in his chest. Callia knew he couldn‟t take much more. When she let him pop from her mouth and stood, she thought she might lose him. He reached for her hand. “Where are you going?” She touched a finger to his nose. “I‟ll be right back.” Callia walked through the chalet to her bedroom, where she dug in her purse looking for a condom. She‟d laughed at herself when she‟d put it in there, knowing she wouldn‟t be using it for a while. But she was really glad at the moment that she‟d had the foresight to do it.

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When she returned to the living room she smiled. He was lying back upon the fake bear rug, leaning on one elbow, one knee cocked, staring into the fire. He looked completely edible. She couldn‟t wait to play some more.

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Chapter Thirteen

She held the condom in front of his face as she stepped onto the rug and he looked up at her, a new light in his dark, brown eyes. His handsome face seemed carved of stone, painted with arrogance. “You will place that on me.” It wasn‟t a request, it was an order. Callia‟s body clenched with need and warm cream ran down her thighs. He was in prince mode. They were gonna play. She bowed low, “As you wish, Your Highness.” She grinned at him and his lips twitched in response. Callia knelt before him on the rug. He reached to cup one of her breasts, weighing it in his heated hand. Callia looked into his eyes, licking her lips suggestively as she grabbed a corner of the package and ripped it open, ever so slowly. She pulled the circle of rubber free of the package and bent over him, hearing him suck in a breath as she took him in her mouth, laving his rigid length with her tongue. She let him pop free and positioned the condom over the thick head of his shaft, rolling it down

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over him. Her fingers danced across his flesh, teasing, testing, and tempting him as the condom opened downward to cover him. By the time the condom was in place, Abdel‟s eyes were closed and he was vibrating with need. But when she started to lie down beside him, his eyes flew open and he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “No. Kneel before me.” Callia offered him a slow grin. His dark gaze gave her an answering spark. “Of course, Your Highness.” He watched her go to all fours on the rug and positioned himself behind her, reaching around to cup her chin in one hand. Callia opened her lips and pulled his fingers into her mouth. His eyes rolled closed in ecstasy. Callia dropped to her elbows, pushing her bottom into the air in silent invitation. She smiled as she heard him groan. He was going to die. And it was the most pleasant experience in his life. The woman kneeling before him was his very own heaven…his suicide by pleasure…death by a thousand joys. As he slid inside her heated channel, she made a low, growling sound in her throat that almost ended it for him before he‟d even begun. Her body accepted his in a tight, slick embrace that curled his toes and tightened the coil of desire pinching his gut to a nearly painful point.

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Abdel held her soft hip with one hand and wrapped the other in her soft cap of hair. As he moved into the dance within her body, she turned her head and her hot tongue came out, bathing his knuckles in moist heat. Abdel released her hair and slid his fingers over her face. The heated glove of her channel pulled hungrily on his flesh, spurring him to new heights of pleasure as he drove into her, quivering and sweating with the effort to claim her slowly, deeply, when all his body wanted was to claim her hard and fast, and mark her as his own. Abdel groaned as his fingers slipped within her exquisite mouth and she pressed those incredibly soft lips firmly around them. Her hot tongue swept them hungrily, matching the beat he danced to inside her lovely body. Pleasure built into a taut, lovely pressure that ravaged his body. His muscles tightened beneath it, his breathing sharpened. His fingers twitched in helpless bliss. Stars burst before his eyes. His toes began to curl. He could feel an answering pressure in Callia‟s lovely body. Beneath his fingers her body had grown taut, her fingers clutched the faux fur rug beneath them as if she held on for her very life. She let his fingers slide from her mouth and lift her succulent backside higher, pressing herself against his belly.

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Abdel groaned out her name and dropped all inhibitions. He let the pleasure drive his body until all restraint was gone. He was a mindless husk of pure need, seeking the ultimate release in the woman of his dreams. As he slammed into her, Callia‟s lips parted, emitting small sounds of delight. Each tiny sound speared through him, ripping through his senses like lightning, until all he could do was hold on and enjoy the ride. Callia‟s muscles suddenly went rigid and she cried out her release, her silken channel pulsing around his shaft. Abdel couldn‟t resist the pull of her orgasm. His body ached to follow hers to rapture. He gasped in a breath as his muscles tightened, delight spearing deep in his belly, and the tight coil of need shattered outward, sending fire through his body as he found the bright edge of his need and tumbled over it into release. Beneath him, Callia‟s body quivered with weariness and contentment. She slowly collapsed to the rug and curled onto her side, murmuring a single word as her pretty gray eyes drifted closed, “Nice”. Abdel grabbed the warm, fleece throw from the couch and spread it over them, curling himself around her body and kissing the silken flesh of her neck and shoulders as she sighed, falling almost immediately into sleep. He knew he should try to sleep too. His body was exhausted and his mind was muzzy with it. But his eyes wouldn‟t close and his mind wouldn‟t stop roiling.

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Twenty-four hours earlier, when he‟d rolled out of bed, his life had been dangerous and complex. The last thing he‟d needed was for it to get even more complex. Yet that was exactly what had happened. And now, when he should be thinking about how he could get the incredible woman sleeping in his arms out of his life, all he could think about was how he could keep her. Because giving her up would be the hardest thing he‟d ever done…in a lifetime of incredibly hard things.

“We found them, Your Highness.” Prince Husein Khayam turned away from the window and fixed an arrogant glare on the man standing nervously just inside the door. “It is about time, Muhammad. Where are they?” “They are on the hill, Your Highness. In one of the chalets.” The prince‟s eyes widened in surprise. “Abdel is either very stupid or he thinks that I am.” The man simply stared at the floor. No way he was going to respond to that comment. He tended to function better when he was wearing his head.

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“The woman registered under a different name, in quite a convoluted fashion. She appears to be hiding from someone. But we finally managed to find her and our man at the chalet has confirmed that they are inside.” “We must go!” Khayam started for the door. Mohammed scurried to gather up the Prince‟s fur cloak and place it over his outstretched arms. Prince Khayam swept from the room, heading for the long line of dark cars waiting outside. Climbing into a large, black SUV at the center of the line, he spit orders to his men and sat back, happily planning the vengeance he would finally realize, once he had his wayward nephew in hand.

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Chapter Fourteen

Callia‟s eyes popped open and she shot upright, her heart beating hard and fast in her chest. She glanced at her watch and swore, grabbing Abdel‟s arm. “Up! Get up! We fell asleep. We need to get out of here, fast!” To his credit, though his dark eyes were ringed with fatigue, Abdel didn‟t argue or delay. He simply sat up and started dragging on his discarded clothing. He was obviously a man used to being under siege. “Did you hear something?” Callia didn‟t need to hear anything. She‟d always been gifted with a keen sense of impending doom. It was one of the things that made her good at her job. And it had saved her life, and the lives of her fellow soldiers, more than a few times in Afghanistan. She was dressed and checking her weapons to make sure they were fully loaded before Abdel pulled on his boots. Grabbing her cell off the kitchen counter, Callia dialed Dolfe directly. When he answered she asked, “Are you in place?” “We are. What the hell are you doing in there? I tried calling several times and you didn‟t answer.” She expelled a breath, embarrassed by her lack of professionalism. “We fell asleep. Do you see them yet?”

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Momentary silence met her question and then Dolfe said, “Coming up the mountain now.” “Damn!” Callia grabbed her jacket and shrugged into it. “Okay, we‟re coming out. Can you slow them down?” An explosion of popping noises met her question and she heard Dolfe swear. “They‟re firing on us. I think you‟re gonna have to go up the mountain. Too many people where you are. We don‟t want any collateral damage.” “Agreed. I‟ll initiate Plan B. We‟ll go back to Abdel‟s hidey hole and make our stand there. You‟ll make the call?” “Yup. We‟ll be right behind ya.” Dolfe disconnected amidst the sound of shots being fired and Callia gave a moment‟s thought to his and Alastair‟s safety further down the mountain. She felt guilty that she‟d been cozied up in the chalet with Abdel while they‟d been keeping watch for her. Shrugging it off, she determined to make it up to them later. Turning to Abdel she said, “Let‟s go.” She grabbed her keys from a bowl of fake fruit and took off running toward the door separating the chalet‟s garage from the house. As they entered the garage Callia threw him the keys. “You drive.” Abdel got a funny look on his face but climbed behind the wheel.

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Callia realized he probably wasn‟t used to having people give him orders. She smiled. He‟d get used to it. She punched the door opener and slid her window down a few inches as he backed the dark red MKX out of the garage. “Where are we going?” Callia‟s eyes were fixed on the snowy landscape beyond the arc of driveway lights. “Up the mountain. Back to your cabin there.” “But what of my men? There is still someone we can‟t trust.” She spared him a quick glance. “I‟m taking care of that.” A flare in the night preceded the ping of a bullet against the side of the car. Abdel‟s hand jerked on the wheel. “Steady. The glass will hold. Dolfe and your men are out there. We just need to head up the mountain and we‟ll be fine.” He nodded, his dark gaze fixed on the curvy mountain road ahead. Snow lay thick and sparkly on the road, giving even the MKX‟s large tires a run for their money. Bullets continued to ping off the car and Callia returned fire, aiming for the sparks in the night. A sea of lights bobbed toward them across the snow. Moving fast and coming at them from two sides.

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“Snowmobiles.” With a jolt of understanding, Callia realized what they had in mind. The road ahead was filled with sharp turns and dangerous drop offs. The road was slick and the big car would be far less agile than the snowmobiles. Bullets wouldn‟t hurt them in the car. But if the Prince‟s men could manage to run them off the road… She glanced at Abdel, realizing her fatal mistake. “You ever taken a class in defensive driving?” His big hands gripped the steering wheel hard, his gaze unwavering on the road ahead. “Basilyr always drives.” Callia swore under her breath. It was gonna be a wild ride up the mountain.

Dolfe sent Abdel‟s men into the fray and waited on top of the hill, watching. Beside him, Basilyr fussed with his helmet and fidgeted, obviously anxious. Dolfe turned to him. “You‟re sure none of your men are still at the chalet?” Basilyr finally gave up trying to make the helmet comfortable and yanked it off. “I sent them all to the road.” He sat there glaring at the helmet in his lap. “What‟s the problem?” Basilyr‟s dark face turned a slightly purple color. He shook his head. “What?” Basilyr lowered his head and mumbled something.

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“Huh?” The older man expelled air in a burst. “I‟m claustrophonic.” Dolfe frowned. “Claustrophonic?” He thought about this for a moment and then chuckled. “Oh, you mean claustrophobic?” The older man turned an even darker shade of purple. “No worries. You‟ll forget all about the helmet as soon as you try to drive that rocket between your legs without crashing.” The purple shade faded to a sickly gray. Dolfe laughed, slamming the helmet down on his head. “Come on. We need to get to the chalet ahead of Callia and make sure it‟s secure.” He turned the key, pulled the kill switch, and yanked the rope once. The sled‟s powerful engine roared to life. Basilyr got his started after three pulls and climbed on. Dolfe saluted the older man and took off up a steep hill, heading cross country toward the chalet at the top. Alastair and four other men roared up the slope behind them.

“On your left!” Abdel swerved sideways as Callia cranked back the sun roof and stuck her gun hand through, firing in the direction of the big, black sled bouncing up beside

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them. The sled grazed the side of the MKX and Abdel instinctively swerved away from it. “No! Use the size of the car. We‟re bigger than they are!” He nodded and swerved into the sled, causing the driver to drop back or be swept off the side of the mountain. Metal screeched against metal as another sled slammed into the side of the big car. The one that had dropped back turned away, heading for a huge pile of snow at the side of the road ahead. Callia turned her hand and fired in that direction. Her shot was high. She retracted her hand and slid the window down just enough to get the nozzle of her Glock through, firing again. The bullet hit the nose of the sled and it swerved away from them, smashing into the steep wall of rock alongside the road. The sled exploded and two more swept up to take its place. The sleds moved up in tandem on either side, swerving into the MKX at the same time. Abdel‟s hands on the wheel jerked as he tried to keep the big car moving forward on the curvy road, with a yawning precipice on one side and a steep wall of rock on the other. Callia fired at the two on the inside, managing to get them to swerve away, if only for a moment. “Now! Swerve hard to the left!”

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Abdel jerked the wheel and metal screeched as they plowed into the forward sled on the outside, sending it into the guardrail and launching the driver over the nose to sail out into open air. They roared away as the second sled smacked into the back of the first and the two sleds burst into a fiery explosion. Bullets pinged off the sides and top as the drivers of the sleds tried to take out the big car‟s tires. Abdel wrenched the car around a tight curve at sixty miles per hour, the tires squealing and skidding sideways. They skimmed the rail and Abdel jerked the wheel again, bringing the big tires back on the road and completing the turn. His shirt was wet and tension sweat poured down the sides of his face. He‟d barely gotten the car straightened out before a whining roar burst overhead. His gaze jerked upward, through the windshield, and saw the skis and snow trail of a massive snowmobile, flying overhead. The sled had used the mound of snow at the side of the road to become airborne and launch itself at the MKX. It was a brilliant and deadly move, almost guaranteed to stop the big car, one way or another. “Gun it!” Callia screamed as she jammed her gun through the sun roof and fired at the underside of the sled.

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Abdel slammed his foot down on the gas and the powerful car shot forward, careening toward a hairpin turn on the road ahead at eighty miles per hour. The sled hit the back of the car and slid off, landing on the ski tips of one of the following snowmobiles and sending both sleds rolling across the road to smack into the wall of rock. The rear end of the MKX skimmed sideways from the impact and Abdel spun the steering wheel in an effort to keep the car from going into a full spin. A sled smacked into the right rear bumper and Abdel lost the battle against a spinout. They swung around, the back of the MKX grazing the metal guardrail and continuing into its spin, heading toward the rocky wall on the other side of the road. Abdel pressed the brake hard, feeling the bump, bump, bump of the antilock brakes as the car did a terrifying spin toward the wall. The MKX scraped against the wall and took another rotation, finally slamming to a stop against the rail. For a moment everything seemed to stand still. Silence pulsed through the car. If it weren‟t for the sound of his heart banging against his ribs, Abdel would have thought his ears had stopped working. Gasping for breath, Abdel stared down at a seemingly bottomless drop and listened to the bolts give way on the guard rail. Stars burst before his eyes.

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He thought he might pass out. A cool hand touched his cheek. “We need to go, Abdel. You‟re doing great.” He turned his head and found her. She was beautiful, cool, and calm. Unbelievably, she was grinning at him. Abdel snorted, swiping sweat from his brow with a shaky hand. “Callia Honeybun, you are more of a warrior than my toughest soldier.” She leaned over and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek. “You just figured that out, Your Highness?” Bullets started to ping off the car again and the whiny roar of snowmobile engines filled the all-too-short silence. Several darkly clad riders on black sleds roared down the hill toward them and passed, heading for Prince Khayam‟s men on the sleds. Callia took a relieved breath. Abdel‟s men had finally arrived. But movement on the road further down immediately squelched her relief. A line of big, black cars was winding its way up the hill. “It looks like we have company.” She glanced at her watch. “We need to get up the hill, Abdel. We‟re running out of time.” He nodded and pulled air into his lungs, turning the key to start the stalled car. Pulling away from the guard rail, Abdel was happy to note that his men were successfully holding Khayam‟s men back, though he‟d seen a couple of them go down under the heavy gunfire.

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“Will your people retrieve my men when this is over? I think some of them may be injured.” She threw him a quick look. “Yes. After we get you safely out of here.”

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Chapter Fifteen

Callia punched a number into her cell phone as they made the last turn toward the chalet. A few beats later she spoke to someone on the other end. “Okay, Smith, it‟s a go! Make sure you notify the local cops once it‟s done. And get Abdel‟s men out of there as soon as you can.” Abdel made the final turn to the chalet. Surrounded by pristine mounds of snow, the chalet sparkled in the early morning sun a quarter of a mile ahead. His eyes widened when he saw the big, black helicopter sitting on the snowy lawn, its rotors in full rotation in preparation for taking off. He opened his mouth to ask the obvious questions when, behind them, the world exploded in a blast of sound, fire, and light. Abdel slammed on the brakes, the car spinning sideways on the snowy road. Black smoke rose above the trees and rock behind them. “What just happened back there? Are my men all right?” Callia was punching numbers on her cell. “If they followed orders they should be fine. Keep driving. We need to get to that chopper.”

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With a final look at the black plume of smoke behind them, Abdel continued on toward the chalet. Several men stood beside the chopper. They were in military stance, legs spread wide and hands clasped behind their backs, waiting. Abdel stopped a few yards away from the chopper and took a relieved breath when he spotted the familiar, dark countenance of his head guard among the unfamiliar faces. Basilyr was safe. Before he could greet his old friend he had something important he needed to do. He placed a hand on Callia‟s arm as she started to climb out. She gave him an impatient look. “We need to hurry, Abdel.” “You know my uncle won‟t stop until he either catches me or is stopped himself.” Callia nodded, reaching for the door handle. “I‟m fully aware of the situation.” Abdel tightened his grip on her arm. “Are you aware that I want you to stay with me…as my bodyguard…and my love…for as long as you wish?” Callia stared at him for a long moment, despite the fact that her nerves were thrumming under the influence of adrenaline, she found she couldn‟t look away from his gaze. He looked as if he feared her response. She was surprised she wasn‟t

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afraid too, at the possibility of staying with him. Before she might have been. Now she realized it was the alternative that really scared her. Being without him. “I‟d like to stay with you, Abdel. For as long as you need me.” Callia leaned over and touched her lips to his, inhaling his sweet exhalation of relief. “I‟ll always need you, Beauty. But I would die if something happened to you.” Callia swallowed hard, tears flooding her eyes. She touched the side of his face. “I think you‟ll find I‟m pretty resilient. And right now, my fondest wish is to kick your uncle‟s ass all the way back to Saudi Arabia.” Abdel laughed. “We share that wish, Beauty.” “Good. Then can we get you out of here, please?” Abdel nodded. Climbing out of the car and hurrying forward, he clasped Basilyr‟s hand. “My friend. I am happy to see you safe.” Basilyr‟s face softened slightly as he returned the Prince‟s handshake. “I would say the same to you, Your Highness.” A very tall, very large man stepped forward. “Your Highness, we need to get you in the chopper and out of here before Prince Khayam‟s men find their way around the breech in the road we created.” Abdel glanced at Callia. “Who are these men?”

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“They‟re my men.” Callia told him. “They‟re ex military and they‟ll help us keep you safe.” Dolfe threw Alastair a look. “Well, a couple of us are only her cousins. Shall we go, Your Highness?” Abdel frowned. “I can‟t leave my men behind.” “Your men are doing what they signed up to do.” Dolfe informed him. “We need to determine who‟s been feeding information to Prince Khayam before we reunite you. In the meantime, we need to get you to safety.” Abdel looked at Callia, a question in his eyes. She nodded. “He‟s right, Abdel. This is Dolfe, you can trust him with your life.” Abdel gave her a soft smile but shook his head. “I do not hand my life over easily, American Beauty. I trust only two people with it. He gave Basilyr a slight nod and then dropped an arm around Callia‟s shoulders, walking with her toward the waiting chopper. “So you blew up the road to keep my enemies from me and brought me a helicopter?” He glanced at Basilyr. “Be careful, my friend, my new bodyguard has much style. She might very well steal your job.” Basilyr‟s serious face tightened. “If that is your wish, Your Highness.” Abdel shook his head and winked at Callia. She laughed.

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“And she has a sense of humor. Something you must work on, my oldest friend.” Basilyr‟s eyes widened. “I apologize, my Prince. I admit I have not fully appreciated the comic adventures all around us. In the future I will strive harder to see the hilarity.” Laughing easily, Abdel climbed into the chopper and reached a hand toward Callia. Though she rolled her eyes at him, she took the offering and allowed him to pull her inside. It was a complete accident that she landed in his arms, against his chest, and had to wrap her long arms around his waist to keep from falling. However, the soft, lingering kiss he gave her while she was there, was certainly not an accident.

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Chapter Sixteen

Callia leaned against the railing and grinned as the dark colored SUV on the track bobbed and wove between a series of obstacles. She grimaced as the car sent a dummy that was dressed as an elderly woman flying to smack against the outside wall. The voices in her ear kept up a steady stream of bickering that intensified when a mother dummy with a stroller followed granny to the wall a few laps later. She‟d never heard her cousin, Warwicke, a professional Indy Car driver, yell at one of his students before. “He pretty much sucks at this.” Dolfe told her. Callia rolled her lips to keep from laughing. “Thank god we have Basilyr to do the real driving. It could be a while before Abdel has this defensive driving thing conquered.” Dolfe snorted. “Yeah. That was probably the understatement of the year.” A sand filled deer took flight and Warwicke‟s voice barked over the air waves. “Are you blind and forgot to tell me?”

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Abdel‟s laughter made Callia‟s body warm and tingle . Without warning, thoughts of the two of them rolling around on their king-sized bed the night before brought a flush to her cheeks. She turned away so Dolfe couldn‟t see. “We‟re bringing this thing in before he kills everything on the track, Cals.” Despite his caustic comments, Warwicke‟s voice bubbled with laughter. The two men had hit it off almost immediately and, despite the fact that, as Dolfe had so eloquently put it, Abdel sucked at his lessons, he really looked forward to them and hadn‟t missed a single one since they‟d left Michigan behind several weeks earlier. She and Dolfe met the car outside the Pit. She gave her cousins a hug and climbed into the passenger seat. Warwicke stuck a hand in the window and grinned at Abdel, his light gray eyes twinkling. “Your Highness, don‟t take out any wildlife on the ride home, okay?” Abdel laughed. “I only hit those objects to give you a tweak, Warwicke Honeybun.” Warwicke‟s red-blonde eyebrows arched upward. “A tweak! I need new underwear after spending five minutes in the car with you.” Abdel shook his head, “You are such a drama princess,” he told Warwicke, before pressing the accelerator and driving away.

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They headed off the track, toward the highway, to begin the three hour journey home. He whistled happily as he drove, his dark gaze only occasionally flitting to the rear view mirror to make sure Basilyr and his men were following. “You had fun?” Callia reached over and placed her hand on the back of his neck, giving it an affectionate squeeze. He turned his sexy gaze to her. “As always. I thought your cousin was going to pop something when I hit that baby stroller.” Always appreciative of a chance to torture one of the cocky, confident men in her life, Callia laughed with him. “I‟ve never heard some of those words he was screaming before.” “Nor I.” Abdel agreed. He put his hand on her knee. “Where shall we have dinner tonight, my American Beauty?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “We can‟t go back to the Middle Eastern restaurant since you criticized their eggplant the last time.” “I was only speaking the truth. It was mushy.” Living with a prince could be challenging at times. “I can see I need to teach you about good lying, Abdel.” “I do not lie. Shall we have Chinese?” Callia shook her head. “I‟m cooking for you tonight.” Abdel went very still, staring straight ahead.

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Callia narrowed her gaze at him. It was a constant joke between them how bad her cooking was. “What, no comment?” He risked a quick glance in her direction. “Is this where I use that good lying thing?” She smacked him on the arm.

The moon was full, its fat round form reflecting off the water and creating a sparkly path across the water that ran almost to the shoreline. Spring was finally finding its legs and the night was warmer than it had been in a while. The day had been breezy and water still lapped against the docks and nudged the rocky wall at the edge of their yard. In the distance, the chocolate lab they often saw being walked along the lake roads barked at everything that moved in the night. The dog‟s barking used to concern Abdel. But he‟d grown used to the sound of it and no longer worried when he heard it. Abdel drew a deep breath of clean lake air into his lungs, enjoying the peaceful night. “I wish to get a dog.” Beside him, Callia had one foot tucked under her scrumptious backside and the other shoved at the deck beneath them, keeping the swing moving in a soothing arc. She nodded. “Something big, with giant paws and huge teeth.” He gave her a wry look. “I wish a companion, not a guard dog.”

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She shrugged, smiling. She‟d known that, she was just tweaking him. Crickets joined their song with the dog‟s to serenade them. Callia dropped her head onto his shoulder and sighed. Abdel kissed her forehead. Somewhere out there, in the darkness of the remote lake lot, their men kept watch on the perimeter. Fayad was not among them. He‟d disappeared during the skirmish on the mountain and they believed he‟d rejoined Khayam. It was clear he‟d been the traitor among Abdel‟s men. Abdel squelched the spark of anger he always felt when he thought of Fayad. The man wasn‟t worth his energies. It had been weeks since they‟d had to worry about Khayam and his men. They‟d gone so completely off the radar that no one could find them. Abdel knew it was simply the calm before the storm. It wouldn‟t last. But as long as it did, he was going to enjoy every minute of it. And he knew that, when things exploded again, Callia would be fighting at his side. “Your dinner was good tonight.” She snorted. “You‟ve picked up this good lying thing pretty quickly.” “No. It is true. You‟re getting better at cooking Mediterranean foods.” “Thanks.” They swung in silence for another moment. Finally, Abdel lifted her chin with a finger. “What are you thinking, my Beauty?” Her teeth when she grinned were very white against the night. “You don‟t want to know.”

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“I do.” “I was wondering if we should buy a couple of AK47s to round out our arsenal.” He expelled a breath. “Is there ever a romantic thought in that pretty head?” She leaned into him, finding his lips with her own. “I have plenty of romantic thoughts.” She slid her hand under his shirt and tweaked a hard nipple. “As a matter of fact, I‟m having some right now.” Abdel nibbled on her silky bottom lip. “I don‟t believe that what you are thinking is romance, Beauty.” She climbed onto his lap and dropped her long legs behind him on the swing, facing and straddling him. “Close enough, Your Highness.” Her mouth found his, and his world contracted down to just the space their two bodies occupied in it. She wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed, her hands covering his pecs and her lips settling small kisses over his face. “I like your brand of romance, Beauty.” She tugged his bottom lip between her teeth. “Me too.” Abdel stood up and carried her into the cottage, up the narrow stairs, and into the bright, whitewashed room they shared. He lay her down on the bed and tucked his fingers into the silky boxers she wore, peeling them down her long legs.

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She tugged her light sweater over her head, leaving her slender, brown body naked for his inspection. As always when he looked at her, his breath stalled in his lungs and his body tightened with expectation. “You are so beautiful. I cannot believe you are my bodyguard.” Callia made a sound of outrage and threw a pillow at him. Laughing, Abdel caught the pillow and flung it behind him. She climbed to her knees and crossed her arms over her abundant chest. “Undress for me.” The laughter left his eyes and Abdel inclined his head, looking appropriately serious. “As you wish, my Beauty.” He reached down and grasped the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it off over his head. Callia licked her lips at the sight of his broad shoulders, trim waist, and well-formed pecs. His arms, built up from weeks of working out with her, arced away from his body, the chorded muscle flexing in reaction to her appreciative gaze. “Now the shorts.” Holding her hungry gaze, Abdel tugged the elastic of his silk boxers over his hips, ever so slowly. The soft fabric caught on his painfully erect shaft and he

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stopped, watching her pupils expand with lust. She gulped as he gave the boxers an extra little tug and pulled them over the thick appendage. Realizing she‟d forgotten to breathe, Callia inhaled deeply. “Yummy.” Staying in character, Abdel inclined his head in thanks. The boxers puddled around his ankles and he stepped out of them. “Come to me.” She demanded. He took two strides and grabbed her hands, pushing her backward onto the bed and holding her hands high above her head. “Hey!” She laughed. “I‟m in charge!” Abdel‟s lips found the pulse point at her throat as his hips wriggled into place between her thighs, positioning himself at her ready entrance. Her sweet scent enveloped him, making his balls tighten with expectation. “You boss me about all day long, American Beauty, I have decided that I am a royal Prince tonight, and you will be my willing love slave.” He punctuated his words by arching his hips and burying himself deep inside her. Callia gasped and wrapped her legs around his hips. “It will be a hardship for me…” She sucked in a breath as he grabbed her hips and lifted them, nudging a delightfully sensitive spot of her internal anatomy as he thrust even more deeply. “But I will learn to accept my place as lowly love slave…” She moaned. “Somehow.”

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Abdel nibbled the sensitive spot at the juncture of her throat and shoulder, “I will try to make the obligation as pleasurable as I can.” His next thrust drove that promise home very nicely. Callia threw her head back and cried out as her body moved steadily toward release with his every thrust. Pleasure speared through her as they found their rhythm and immersed themselves in it, their bodies tightening and heating with expectation. Callia‟s toes curled tight against the soles of her feet. Her fingers flexed over the muscles of his wide back. Stars burst before her eyes as she moved inexorably toward her peak. Finally, as Abdel‟s mouth found hers and his tongue speared between her lips, her breath stalled in her lungs and she plunged over that peak, falling into heaven with his name on her lips. Abdel‟s body tightened and he reared back, his body helpless in response to the pull of her flesh against it. With a groan, he followed her over that peak and into release. Their bodies softened into the aftermath of their lovemaking, their breath harsh in their throats from the delightful effort. Abdel covered her face with kisses before bracing his weight on his forearms and looking down into her eyes. “I am sorry I was forced to turn you into my love slave.” Callia frowned. “I‟ll let you make it up to me.”

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Abdel‟s lips tightened against a smile. “Perhaps I can start the journey back into your good graces now, my Beauty.” Callia‟s frown slid away. “I like the sound of that.” Abdel didn‟t seem to hear, he was already working his way down her body, kissing her throat, her breasts, her belly, and… “Abdel!” Callia sucked in a breath and shivered with delight as, like the dedicated Sheik he was, he immersed himself in his female studies.

The End

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www.samcheever.com

Author Bio

Award winning author Sam Cheever mixes in a little fun, a little adventure, and a little real-life spice to create her sexy fantasy and romantic suspense stories. Sam‟s fictional peeps fight their way through a dizzying array of dangerous challenges without letting little things like mean tempered ex girlfriends, dangerous villains, or angry, manipulative gods dampen their zest for life and hot love! To find out more about Sam and her work, please pay her a visit at any one of the following online hot spots: her website; her author page on Facebook; her MySpace page; or her blog. She always loves to chat with readers.

Red Rose Publishing Dancing With Tad-available in ebook and print For Life

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A Honeybun and Coffee- available in ebook and print Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of a Honeybun Fast Track to a Honeybun A Honeybun in Hell Purple Prose The Shadow of a Honeybun Honeybun Sheik

Ellora‟s Cave Nocked Over Nocked for a Loop

Cerridwen Press „Tween Heaven and Hell Tween a Devil and His Hard Place Tween Heart‟s Fire and Devil‟s Delight „Tween Hopeful and Hopeless

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