Page 9 of The Sheikh’s Christmas Present

They stepped into the elevator, and he smiled as he pulled a card from his pocket. “I have a key.”

Stupidly, she stared at him. “How? When?”

“The doorman passed it to me as we entered. This place is known for its discretion. All I had to do was call, and he was waiting with the key. No paper trail. They’ll send a bill to the palace, and it’ll get paid.”

She blew out her breath. “Okay, that’s impressive. The places I’ve stayed at all required payment upfront or no key.” He really did live in a different world than her.

At the top floor, the doors opened, and they stepped out. Jarik walked her to the door on the very end and opened it. As soon as she stepped in, she wanted to kick off her shoes and dig into the plush carpeting with her toes.

“Whoa.” The living room was bigger than her whole apartment. The back wall was nothing but glass that overlooked the beautiful gardens in the back. Jarik grabbed a remote from the gorgeous mahogany coffee table and pressed a button. Immediately, the blinds swept from one side to the other, effectively blocking her view.

“It’s only one bedroom. You take the bed,” he told her as he opened the door. Maria watched in awe as he ducked in and pulled a duffle bag out.

“Where did that come from?”

“I can’t walk about Syria and Lebanon in a suit,” he said with a wry smile. “I asked the concierge to get a few things for me. They had it waiting.”

Staring at the huge bed, she shook her head. “I can’t sleep there. I’ll take the couch. That makes more sense, anyway—you are too tall to sleep comfortably on a couch.”

Jarik stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Maria, did you see that couch? It’s huge. Two of me could fit on that thing.”

That was true, but she still backed out of the bedroom. “No, I insist. Besides, it’s probably treason to make a sheikh sleep on the couch, right?”

“Maria, are you okay?”

She wasn’t fine. She was overwhelmed and exhausted and she really needed some space.

Blowing out her breath, she smiled shakily. “I’m fine. Really. That bed is just way too big, and I don’t think I’d be very comfortable on it. The couch will be fine. If I could take a shower that would be great.”

“Sure. Go ahead. I can take one in the morning.”

Thankful to escape the room, she slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Leaning against it, she exhaled slowly and felt the weight of everything settle on her.

Things were already going wrong with the flight. She had royalty tagging along. She’d almost been…mugged, and now she was spending the night in a hotel room that probably cost more money for one night than she made in a month.

Although Maria loved flying, life wasn’t easy for her. Even in this day and age, she still faced flack for being a female pilot. It was even worse in the Middle East. Between that and having to rub elbows with the rich and kiss ass to keep her charity afloat, there were times when she felt overwhelmed.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the open stone shower and turned on the hot water. There was enough room to hold six people in the shower, but right now, all she cared about was the hot water.

There was something cathartic about showers. Usually, she felt like all her troubles were washed down the drain, and when she stepped out, she’d be a whole new woman. But not tonight. Tonight, she couldn’t get her head to clear because all she could think about was one person.

Jarik.

SheikhJarik Shadid.

She’d never met a man that pulled her in three different directions. It bothered her how easily he could toss money around without a second thought. At the same time, she was impressed and slightly terrified of the man who had protected her without breaking a sweat. And she was so turned on by the man who looked at her with raw and open lust.

She could still remember the outline of his cock pressing against her on their bus ride.

Reaching for the washcloth, she tried to banish the lustful thoughts from her mind. She couldn’t act on them. When it was over, Jarik probably wouldn’t even remember her name. She’d be that female pilot that he entertained himself with for an hour or two.

Sex wasn’t a special experience for Maria. She traveled. She enjoyed men. She enjoyed sex. It didn’t make sense that she’d resist Jarik just because a fling between them couldn’t develop into anything lasting, but yet that’s how she felt. From the moment she met him, a part of her was certain that once with him wouldn’t be enough—but that would be all they could have before they went their separate ways.

“Stop it,” she growled as she scrubbed at her skin. She was giving him more power over her feelings than he deserved. He was a man, and Maria had no problems handling men.

Besides, she had no doubt that despite their agreement, Jarik would bail as soon as they got to Syria. He’d get to whatever secret thing he needed to do in Lebanon, and she’d never see him again.

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