Page 2 of The Sheik's Embrace

Privacy! She needed a place where she could think, strategize, escape the suffocating weight of the looming crisis. The urgency clawed at her throat as she scanned the room for a sanctuary away from the hallway’s chaos. What was she going to do? The unanswered question echoed like a siren in her mind, each passing moment intensifying the pressure. With every heartbeat, the need for a plan built relentlessly. The eyes of the room bore into her, a silent witness to her unspoken turmoil. The gravity of the situation hung in the air, demanding action, while uncertainty clung to her.

Rushing down the hallway, she glanced around. Unfortunately, the only doors in sight led either to another office or to…a storage room!

Tara nearly ran to the closet, jerked open the door and stepped inside. The light automatically came on but as soon as she pulled the door closed, the light clicked off.

Silence.Blessed silence and privacy!

Taking a slow, steadying breath, Tara closed her eyes, pressing the bag to her chest as if she could somehow suppress the message it contained. But after only a moment, Tara sighed and released her hold on the bag. Clutching the leather straps, she let the contents tumble downwards with an ominous thunk. Retrieving the phone, Tara nervously entered the unlock code and read the message again.

Unfortunately, the words didn’t change with the third reading.

“No!” she whispered, closing her eyes again and leaning her head back against the wall behind her. “No no no no!”

Bending low, Tara, now concealed in the darkness, attempted to suppress the escalating panic clawing at her insides. This was no time for panic; she needed a clear mind, formulate a plan. But what plan could she devise? How could she escape this latest act in the pathetic drama that was her life? The question echoed though her thoughts, resonating with urgency.

When she looked up, a dim reflection off of a small mirror over a tiny sink revealed her terrified features. But Tara cared little for her image; instead, her priority was shrouding herself from the haunting shadows of her past. Though some bestowed upon her the label of beauty, it was a title she considered a nemesis. The very allure of her appearance had lured a tormentor into her life. Her facial features, once admired, were now considered a curse, the architect of the inferno she found herself in. The mirror, a reluctant accomplice in reflecting her image, served as a reminder of the turmoil that stemmed from the beauty that had betrayed her.

Though her green eyes shimmered with intelligence, they also mirrored the fear that gripped her. In the calming darkness of the little closet, Tara inhaled deeply, the taste of tension lingering on her tongue. Trying to calm down, she paused and held her breath, counting to five. Exhaling slowly through pursed lips, she repeated the calming ritual until, after the fourth repetition, a semblance of control returned.

As the threat of a panic attack subsided, Tara, her normally calm features were now accentuated by the strain etched on her face. But with the newly found calm, Tara also discovered clarity. Now, amidst the shadows, she could think, strategize, and confront the unknown challenges that loomed ahead. The tension in the air persisted, but Tara, with steelydetermination shining in her green eyes, was ready to face whatever awaited her next.

However, before she could create a solid plan, the door to her temporary sanctuary jerked open and the tall, terrifying persona of her boss loomed even larger because of her crouched position.

“Your Highness!” Tara gasped, quickly stretching herself to her full height. Or tried to. Perhaps she’d crouched here in this silly closet for longer than she’d realized because her legs didn’t want to cooperate.

Thankfully, two strong hands reached out, steadying her until she was upright.

“Thank you,” she whispered, lowering her eyes as his touch shot sparks of a strange sort of wanting inside of her. Backing up, she nearly tripped over a bucket. Grabbing onto a wire shelf, Tara attempted a small bit of dignity, despite her surroundings.

“You’re welcome.” Zayed released her and Tara suddenly felt cold. “Now explain.”

For a brief moment, she nearly laughed. Not because any of this situation was amusing. Nope, her laughter would be more along the hysterical kind. Tara doubted that the powerful, shockingly…um…healthy…she let her eyes skim over his broad shoulders and flat stomach. The man was absolutely yummy! She’d thought so from the first moment she’d interviewed with him.

“Tara!” Zayed snapped.

She realized that she’d allowed her eyes to…meander…and jerked her focus back to his face. Tara had to tilt her head back when he was this close, but didn’t mind. Not one little bit.A woman could get lost in those dark, intense eyes of his. And his lashes were ridiculously long. Why couldn’t she have been blessed with such lashes? Why had she received the “blessing” of pale skin that freckled at even the hint of sunshine?

With a heavy sigh, Zayed reached out and…if Tara had been in her right mind, she would have anticipated the man’s actions. But because she was so frazzled, she didn’t anticipate the man simply reaching out and plucking the cell phone from her numb fingers. He pressed a button and read the message, one dark eyebrow lifting.

When his quizzical gaze returned to her worried features, Tara knew he didn’t understand.

Chapter 2

Zayed’s mind was racing with questions. And need. And lust. And a whole host of other emotions. He should be used to some of them by now. The lust had been present ever since Tara Treon walked into his office for a job interview. With her bright smile and those adorable freckles sprinkled across her up-tilted nose, not to mention her sweet, rosebud lips and those enchanting green eyes…Zayed had been lost.

In this moment, her terror and the lingering memory of her frightened retreat from the meeting, Zayed wanted to pull Tara into his arms and hold her, tell her that she was safe from whatever had scared her. But he wasn’t sure how to protect her from…a hamburger delivery.

“Are you hungry,qatah aghira?” he asked, his rough voice soft and compelling.

He noticed her lips moving, repeating the endearment. Tara spoke Arabic well, but her understanding of the language was more focused on business and political vocabulary. The endearment “kitten” wasn’t something that she’d ever encountered. He almost laughed as he watched her agile mind work, but tried to focus on the message still displayed on the cell phone. The phone was obviously a burner phone since it was cheap and old. Hell, Zayed wasn’t even sure if one could buy a flip phone anymore. He estimated that the phone was probably ten years old. How did it even work?

“No,” she replied and he noticed as she stiffened. “I’m not hungry.”

Those mesmerizing green eyes narrowed, and he swiftly turned the phone around, revealing the message. She winced, barely casting a glance at the text before redirecting her gaze.As he observed, Tara rubbed a still-trembling hand over her stomach, reigniting the ever-present desire in his mind.

Had his longing for this woman ever truly waned? Over the past two years since Tara had entered his life, he'd managed to suppress the desire, keeping it at bay. Yet, it lingered beneath the surface, a persistent force that tested his sanity daily. Her most innocent gesture reignited the simmering passion, causing him to envision her in a more intimate light.

Was it intentional? Was Tara deliberately using such distractions to divert his attention from the coded message's meaning?

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