Page 44 of Warming the Sheikh's Bed & Love in the Fast Lane

“Do it to placate me.”

She looked up into his deep, dark eyes and felt her heart twist.

“What is the harm? You have a nice, comfortable ride and I have peace of mind that no hurt will come to you on my account.”

She sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

Mollified by the beginning of her agreement, he switched his focus to the groceries. “What do you have in the bag?”

“Ingredients.” At his perplexed look, she expanded. “I’m making you dinner?”

His brows shot up. “You cook?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t help the small smile that came to her lips. “Remember? Burger flipping extraordinaire?”

“Of course. How could I forget?” He kissed her forehead. “I have something to show you first.”

“Another spy?”

He squeezed her hand. “Come.”

She rolled her eyes, but secretly, she adored his commanding nature. She fell into step beside him. But when he paused just outside the dressing room they’d first made love in, her heart turned over in her chest. Vivid images of that night were scorched into her brain matter.

He seemed to understand, and he pulled her against his body, holding her tight. “Not that. Yet.”

She was jelly inside. She swallowed, trying to control the appetite that lurched drunkenly out of control when he was nearby.

“Then what?” It looked identical to how it had that first time.

He released his grip on her and prowled to one of the mirrored doors. He slid it sideways, to reveal an enormous quantity of women’s clothing. Cassie followed him, her fingers running over the garments on autopilots. “What is this?” She frowned, after he’d pushed several more doors aside to reveal shoes, bags, and make up.

“This is the overnight bag you refuse to bring.”

His eyes were jewel-like in his face when he regarded her. Beautiful, yes, but determined too.

“I don’t refuse to bring an overnight bag,” she contradicted, slipping a vibrant turquoise dress off the hanger and marvelling at its sheer detail.

“You have not brought a bag any night you’ve stayed, despite my repeated request. Only a folding toothbrush and pair of underpants.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I like to get ready at home.”

“I want you here.” His tone was possessive and it rang with absolute authority. “I want you here every minute you are not at work, until I go.”

She bit down on her lip. It was too much. Too intense. She lifted her hands to his chest, her fingers splayed wide. “No.” Her eyes were heavy with desperation. “I can’t come to depend on you in that way. You’re a part of my life at the moment, but a small part. A great part. You can’t be the only part.”

He eyed her thoughtfully. “Are you still claiming this is just sex, Cassie?”

Her eyes were heavy. Her brain hurt. “What else can it be?” She cleared her throat, determined not to cry. “You’re going to be married in a matter of months. Probably with a child within a year.” She blinked up at him, her misery a force she could barely control. “And I don’t want anything serious.”

A muscle flecked in his jaw. “You just want sex.”

“Yes.” She tilted her chin at a defiant angle.

She was right to hold to their original agreement. So why did it bother him so much?

Anger made him unreasonable. And though he recognised that, still he continued down the same path. “You don’t even say thank you for this?” He gestured to the wardrobe.

“I didn’t ask for it,” she muttered. “I don’t need clothes. I don’t need nor want you to buy me things.”

---