Sheikh's Bed (Complete)

Chapter 3

Karen ignored the chill that shook her spine. The direct stare and deeply accented voice of Tamir Rahman would test any woman's resolve. She liked challenges, but this was different. Usually her goals were about advancing her career, not advancing on a man.

"The world doesn't revolve around your whims, Tamir." Staying cool was her top priority.

His aloof shrug made her temporarily bite her tongue against comments she couldn't anticipate his reaction to.

"Do you think my dad will be happy about this?"

"What a question," he murmured.

Grimacing, she spat, "I can't believe I crossed the Atlantic just to get railroaded by another man that wants to tell me what to do! And you think it's funny! I'm sure your wife will too!"

For the first time since sitting, Tamir decided to partake in the food. He picked up a healthy strawberry and held it to his lips and studied it briefly before biting down on it almost to the stem. Karen's mouth involuntarily followed suit, gaping as his teeth sank into the firm surface of the fruit.

"My wife?"

"Yes," she hissed, wondering how the woman could be an afterthought and hating how her thighs tingled at the sight of his angled jaw working.

"And who would that be?" he asked.

He was perusing the table for his next sample, and for the first time, Karen noticed his hands held no rings. Tampering her breath, she reminded herself that it didn't mean anything.

"The one you left m—Morocco to marry." Her heart quickened from the near slip.

"Oh yes... Ina," he said after a moment, as if he had to search his memory for the incident. "I never married her. I never married anyone actually."

Tamir was kind enough not to look at her as he said this, more preoccupied with the strawberries than her reaction.

"Why?"

Tiny laugh lines pressed the corners of his eyes. "Sometimes things happen, sometimes they do not."

"Yes, but there's always a reason."

He nodded slowly once. "Indeed."

Karen doubted he was as interested in the meal as he appeared to be, but she was starved, and made sure she had her fill before stopping.

"So what was yours?" she ventured to ask. At least seven minutes had passed since her first blurted inquiry, but Tamir, as she suspected, didn't miss a beat.

"So you haven't outgrown your curiosity."

His eye movements were so subtle, if you weren't truly watching him, you'd never notice the nuances they made. But Tamir commanded all of her attention when he was in her presence, even if she pretended he didn't.

Karen folded back the sleeves on his robe—she'd done it twice and they were still too long. The gesture reminded her in a heated rush that it was his robe, the same way it fluttered against her skin was the way it did against his. Did he adore its lightness when he wore it, looking every bit the sheikh that he was?

"You'll give me anything but a straight answer."

"On the contrary, she married someone else."

Karen studied him but he gave no sign that the admission bothered him. And she wasn't sure what to make of it.

"It was such a long time ago. I'm surprised you remembered. You were such a young girl back then—spoiled," he added dryly.

Karen dipped her finger into a decadent melted chocolate. "It's better to be a spoiled young girl than a spoiled grown man. Do you do anything out here without a manservant at your beck and call?"