Fit for a Sheikh

“Not exactly, so let me see.”

With lightning speed, he clasped her wrists and pulled her forward between his parted legs. She planted her palms on his shoulders to keep from toppling into his lap, although that didn’t seem like a totally abhorrent prospect. “How will you know for certain by using only your eyes?” he said in a deep, persuasive voice. “I could be hiding them.”

“They would’ve dissolved by now.” Her voice sounded like a rusty wheel.

“Perhaps, or perhaps not.”

“Are you going to force me to pry your jaws open and put my hand in your mouth?”

His near-black eyes looked bedroom drowsy. “I would prefer you not put your hand in my mouth, but I would be open to other suggestions.”

“I’m not quite sure I’m following you here, Scorpio.”

He clasped the back of her head and pulled her closer, his lips only a fraction from hers. “You have other means to conduct a search.”

Was he giving her an open invitation to engage in a little tongue tango? That’s what she thought he was doing, but she’d been wrong before. Better safe than really sorry. “You want me to do a little mouth-to-mouth expedition?”

“If you wish to know for certain, I see no other recourse.”

Whew, boy. Peg had been right on. A near-death experience had done nothing to quell his manly urges. Or maybe it was the drugs. “Those pills are obviously doing their job if you want to kiss me.”

“I have found your mouth quite fascinating from the moment we met. And since we are obviously stranded together for the evening, I propose we enjoy each other’s company.” His eyes closed, then slowly opened. “If you are willing.”

Noting his words were somewhat slurred, she’d be darned if she’d do this with him when he was under the influence of painkillers. “We don’t know each other.”

“I know that you are a beautiful woman.”

Beautiful? Now she knew he was high. “Come on, Scorpio. That’s a stretch.”

He slid his callused palms up and down her arms. “Are you calling me a liar?”

She was calling herself a fool for actually buying into this. “Believe me, I’ve heard many pickup lines from many men, enough to know that telling a woman she’s beautiful is only a means to an end.”

“I am not a man who uses false flattery to seduce a woman. True beauty cannot be hidden.” His gaze tracked to her breasts then back to her eyes. “However, I will not force you into anything you do not wish to do.”

His smile arrived, only halfway, but affected Fiona all the way. “Let’s just say I do agree to do this. What’s in for me?”

“You will have to find out.”

She wanted to find out. Boy, did she want to. A little adventure. Just a little kiss.

Leaving common sense in the dust, she traced her tongue over the seam of his lips and without any coercion his mouth parted, giving her full advantage in this game of chance. Chances were meant to be taken, and she couldn’t help believing that she was destined to kiss this man. And she did, with all the gusto of a woman who had done without this kind of intimacy for far too long.

But she didn’t find any pills lurking on his tongue—a gentle, provocative tongue that stroked against hers until she thought she would collapse from a charisma overdose. She swayed forward and he brought her down on the sofa next to him in his strong arms.

Fiona didn’t care that his evening whiskers abraded her chin. She didn’t care that Lottie was in the next room, pitching a fit while her master was making out with a master kisser. A stranger no less. A stranger with one wicked tongue and one deliberate touch as he made light passes with his thumb over the side of her breast.

But soon he took his hand and his mouth away. Fiona opened her eyes to find him bowed forward, his elbows braced on his knees and his face in his palms.

“What did you give me?” he muttered.

She scooted to the edge of the cushion, her pulse pounding away like a jackhammer, this time from fear over his current condition. “Painkillers. They’re supposed to be mild.”

He fell back against the sofa. “Not mild enough. My head is spinning.”

So was Fiona’s, not only from his kiss but also from the fact that she’d drugged him into a stupor just when things were getting good. Worse, she might have really compromised his well-being.

She bolted from the sofa. “I need to call Peg.”

He stretched out, and within seconds his eyes closed and his breathing grew steady.

Fiona grabbed the cordless phone from the end table and pounded out Peg’s number. Before her neighbor could even say “Hello” she spewed the explanation about what she’d given Scorpio and how much, trying not to sound too panicked. Peg assured her that he wouldn’t croak from taking two of that particular pill, but he would sleep soundly for several hours. In the meantime, she should watch him closely.

After Fiona hung up from Peg, she felt somewhat assured that she hadn’t done Scorpio any real harm, and terribly disappointed that the evening had come to an abrupt halt. Probably just as well. She should have her head examined for actually kissing him, especially since she didn’t even know him. But in some ways, that was the appeal. Doing something kind of risky, even if it was unwise. During her formative years, she’d had to be the logical one because of her mother’s penchant for carefree living and questionable taste in men. Maybe it was more than time to live a little.

Lottie continued to whine and claw at the bedroom door. Worrying the noise might wake Scorpio, she coerced the dog from the bedroom with doggie bacon, intending to shut her in the kitchen with a bowl of water and a warning to use the newspaper. But before Fiona could stop her, Lottie bounded to the sofa and began bathing Scorpio’s elbow with her black tongue, amazing since she wasn’t all that fond of men. But this particular man wasn’t like most men, and Lottie must have recognized that, too. Luckily, Scorpio didn’t go for his gun, or even flinch for that matter. But that in itself concerned Fiona. What if he didn’t wake up? What if she had inadvertently put him in a coma?

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