awareness of each other that, in Marty’s case, only revealed itself in Khalid’s presence.
A new tension seemed to fill Marty, however, as they ate and then lingered over drinks to discuss a variety of subjects. It was as though she knew the significance of easing into this evening, of establishing a level of comfort within the arousal that flared throughout the evening.
She was ready for this, he assured himself. But one thing was for certain. If she weren’t ready for it, she would have informed them of it long before now.
Khalid had never understood the reason his sexuality had grown so dark, why the hunger to share a lover had grown so deep. It was something he had stopped questioning years ago. It just lived inside him, like an entity all its own.
As dinner came to an end, Khalid invited Marty back to the estate, as well as Shayne. Anticipation fed the fire, and that anticipation would amplify her pleasure if the night included the sexual pleasures he had been withholding from her. He wanted her more than ready for both of them. He wanted her wet and wild for it, ready and willing to accept whatever pleasures they bestowed upon her.
As they stepped into the limo, the vibration of his cell phone in his jacket pocket caused him to clench his teeth in irritation. Pulling it from his inside jacket pocket, he glimpsed the caller ID and wanted to curse in anger.
“Yes?” he answered.
“Get to the club,” Zach ordered, his voice tight, brisk. “We have a situation.”
“That could be a problem,” he said carefully, aware of Marty watching him with a hint of suspicion.
“I know Marty’s with you,” Zach growled. “I have permission from Ian to allow her into the parking area only. Tell her to keep her ass in the limo. Hopefully you and Shayne shouldn’t be long.”
“Problem?” She leaned back in the seat and watched him almost knowingly.
He glanced at Shayne. “We have to make a stop,” he informed the other man.
Shayne watched him curiously. “A stop?”
“At the club.”
Tension filled the limo as he turned his gaze back to Marty.
“You will stay in the limo, Marty. You know the rules there. Do us all a favor and please refrain from trying to slip in as you have in years past.”
During the last two years she had been following Khalid she had made several attempts to slip into the club to see who he was meeting with, what he was doing. According to Zach, the orders to do so had come directly from her boss, Vince Deerfield.
She had no such orders tonight.
“Of course.” That sweet smile didn’t fool him.
Lowering the window between the driver and passenger areas, he made a decision he prayed would hold her in check.
“Abdul, we’ll be stopping at the club for a while. You’re to make sure that Miss Mathews remains in the limo while we’re there. Should she try to leave the car, then you’ll notify me immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Abdul’s tone reflected his hesitancy to upset Marty.
Over the years Marty and Abdul had developed a friendship that had caused Khalid more than one headache.
“Slip from the car, and Abdul will be the one who pays for it,” he warned her.
Her brow lifted. “You like to play dirty, Khalid.”
“Sometimes it’s the only thing you understand.” He sighed almost wearily.
No doubt he’d be taking her home after this meeting rather than back to his bed as he’d hoped.
She smiled again. That sugary sweet smile never failed to cause his neck to itch.
Silence filled the limo as Abdul navigated out of town toward Squire Point, the exclusive area filled with tree- shrouded estates and oceanside mansions.
Marty crossed her legs and stared at the two men sitting across from her, almost rubbing her hands together in glee.
As a babysitter, Abdul sucked. She had him wrapped around her little finger better than her fathers were.
“Stay put, Marty,” Khalid warned her, as they turned into the Sinclair property and drove along the well-lit tree- lined lane that led to the estate house that held the exclusive men’s club.
“Of course.” She smiled back at him innocently. “I’m on vacation, remember?”
Both men eyed her dubiously. As well they should, because once she was actually on the estate grounds, getting in was going to be child’s play. What she would find after actually breaching those hallowed halls, she had no idea. But she was going to have fun finding out.
She sat silently as Abdul parked in the area Khalid directed him to, a securely lit, well-guarded area of the parking lot. If Ian Sinclair knew Khalid had her in the limo, then she had no doubt extra security guards were in place.
“Be good, precious,” Khalid warned her again, as Shayne pushed the door open and stepped out.
Khalid surprised her as he leaned forward, his fingers curling around her neck to hold her in place for a brief, hard kiss. His fingertips stroked the back of her neck as he lingered only moments, then slid away as he moved from the vehicle.
She sat silently and watched as Khalid and Shayne disappeared through the entrance to the club that had managed to keep itself secret from the general public for more than two centuries. The very fact that its true purpose had never come to light was a bit surprising. The club was more secretive regarding its membership than the Secret Service was in protecting the president. And that was saying a lot.
Once the doors had closed and silence filled the night once again, she turned to where the window had been lowered between the driver and passenger areas.
Propping her arms on the back of the front seat, she smiled back at Abdul as he turned and watched her warily. He knew her, and he had known the moment he had been given his orders that he would be breaking them.
“I guess you’re honor-bound to contact him if I leave,” she stated to the bodyguard who had befriended her when she first began following Khalid.
Abdul was older, perhaps nearing fifty. Gray sprinkled his closely cropped black hair, and wrinkles were marring his dark face. He reminded her of a loving, benevolent grandfather, though she knew he had no wife, no children. He had pledged himself to the Mustafa family, and to Khalid, as a young man and had allowed nothing to come between himself and the task he had taken on to protect his charge.
Abdul stared back at her quietly for long moments, his expression reflective as he watched her. Abdul was what she liked to call a “thinker.” More than likely he had already considered this problem at some point in the past. He was a man who liked to think ahead while he was deliberating.
“He is like a son to me,” he stated in his halting English, before sighing deeply.
“And he’s like a thorn in my ass,” she shot back in disgust, more to watch the incredulity that shot through his eyes than to simply be crude. Though there were times it was definitely the truth. But she did so love to shake Abdul’s little world up.
Abdul was a friend, but one who could be rather prudish at times.
“You are a very naughty little girl,” he laughed, after nearly choking on his shock. “In my country your tongue would be cut from your mouth.” And he was probably not joking.
“In your country I’d have already been stoned for my smart mouth,” she informed him. “Be honest about it, Abdul.”
He shook his head as a lighter laugh passed his lips.
“You keep him on his toes; this is a good thing sometimes. Not many women give him the challenge he oftentimes needs.”
“Women are supposed to be a challenge?” She batted her lashes back at him. “I thought we were supposed to be submissive and properly trained.”
Abdul was an enigma to her sometimes. He could laugh at himself as well as at the many misunderstandings concerning his country and his religion. When it came to Khalid, though, he took his responsibility to watch over him very seriously.
“A woman is to know her place, no matter where that place is,” he finally said, sighing. “Khalid never fit into
