CHAPTER TWO
Olivia. Khalid rolled her name over his tongue. It was a beautiful appellation for an even more beautiful woman. Her dark cloud of hair was a shimmering black mass of soft waves swept up on top of her head into a simple yet elegant knot. She possessed a high brow, the cutest button nose, and lush lips meant for kissing. Her high-waist eggshell-colored gown accentuated her lovely curves and offset her chestnut brown skin to perfection.
Her dark beauty so completely captivated Khalid his natural impulse was to get close to her. Before she could sit down, he hurried over to her chair and pulled it out for her.
“Thank you, Mr. Du?s.”
“Please call me Khalid or Francois,” Khalid insisted. The quicker they dispensed with the cultural mores, where men and women addressed each other by their last names, the sooner they would be on intimate terms. Envisioning the kind of familiarity he desired, her delicate limbs wrapped around him while he pumped into her, Khalid’s cock swelled with lust and anticipation.
Deciding to pour on the charm, Khalid took her hand in his and turned it palm side up. However, before he kissed her wrist, she pulled her hand away.
“I’m glad you were finally able to join us, Mr. Du?s.” She picked up her dinner napkin, and shook it out with a snap. “A long time coming, if you ask me.”
I’ll be damned, Khalid blinked. She not only put his game on ice, she’d reprimanded him for his past transgressions. Accustomed to women falling all over him, making concessions for his bad behavior, Khalid found himself knocked slightly off-kilter. To his surprise, he liked the feeling. Relished it even, and like a glutton for punishment he wanted more.
As he stood over her, Khalid pictured her lying in his bed naked except for the gifts he bestowed upon her. He imagined radiant jewels glowing against her skin, lying across her heavy bosom, accenting her chocolate nipples and blood flooded his loins, making his ramrod stiff.
In an effort to control his baser instincts, like grasping her slender neck and pulling her up for a kiss, Khalid gripped the back of Olivia’s chair. The movement drew her attention to him once more and she glanced up at him.
“As soon as you sit down, we can eat, Mr. Du?s.”
Reprimanded once again! He’d certainly started off on a bad note, because she seemed to take an immediate dislike to him. A minor bump in the road, Khalid mused as he glanced around the dining room table in search of the third place setting.
Khalid bit back a curse. The porcelain service was on the other side of the table. Too far away for his liking. Mood soured, he begrudgingly found his seat. For now, he would sheath his claws, even roll over and play dead to lull her into a false sense of security. One way or another—like a lion relentless in his pursuit—he would have her.
***
Olivia inhaled a deep, calming breath. She’d marched downstairs to put Khalid Francois Du?s in his place, but her shored-up indignation crumbled the moment she laid eyes on him. So much so, her temper had become self-directed.
She’d expected a man dressed in Eastern garb, sporting a bushy beard and moustache. Not a refined, clean-shaven gentleman in black evening attire with a face that would make most women lose their common sense.
His features were downright exquisite. Sun-kissed skin and inky black hair cropped closely to his head, served to emphasize the lean sculpted planes of his face and full, sensual mouth. And yet, none of these fine attributes compared to his eyes, which were pale green, thickly lashed and absolutely mesmerizing.
Unable to help herself, Olivia’s gaze drifted across the table. To her horror, Khalid was staring right back at her, unabashed, with a smile that bordered on arrogant.
In that instant, Olivia knew she despised him. He was everything she loathed in a man—chauvinistic, narcissistic, and pigheaded. And there would be no changing him. He would never respect her as his equal.
Too bad her body responded to his allure in quite a different manner. With each passing second, her temperature seemed to soar. Heat raced through her veins, causing her cheeks, breasts and the hidden place between her thighs to become enflamed. She was practically burning up, as if overcome with a fever which left her slightly delirious and incapable of resisting him or her suddenly depraved thoughts. He had her so befuddled she fought the impulse to jump from her seat, march around the table, and plant her mouth over his.
Thankfully, before she embarrassed herself, Meredith bustled into the dining room with the first course. All business and taciturn, the older woman gave Olivia a convenient distraction.
With great effort, Olivia pulled her gaze from their guest and focused on the bowl in front of her. “What kind of soup is this?” she asked.
Meredith frowned as she slid a bowl onto Harry’s plate. Olivia cringed, suddenly realizing her mistake. “You chose the soup along with the rest of the menu, Miss Olivia. We finalized the details this morning.”
“I-I guess it slipped my mind.” Olivia felt her cheeks burn even hotter—this time from embarrassment, not lust.
Olivia clutched her napkin. Always pragmatic, she hated these new, strange emotions coursing through her, bombarding her rationale. Her classmates had swooned over men, but not her. She’d thought her peers were foolish for all their silly talk of rushing heartbeats, being unable to sleep or eat. Olivia had never had a night of undisturbed sleep in her life, and her appetite was comparable to a horse.
Until now. Try as she might, she couldn’t work up an appetite for one of her favorite dishes. As her brother and their guest ate their soup with gusto, she played with hers, using her spoon to draw circles in the creamy broth.
“Liv, is something wrong?” Harry asked.
Plenty, Olivia thought, but said, “I’m perfectly fine, just not hungry that’s all.” She even mustered up a smile to throw off her brother’s suspicions. As a doctor, he’d been trained to be much more observant than the average man.
“I’m just the opposite,” their guest drawled. His voice, slightly accented, but cultured, made her think of vast deserts, orange sunsets and feverish embraces.
Disquieted, Olivia focused on her soup. If she even looked at Khalid, she was afraid she’d give her feelings away.
“For some reason,” he continued, “I’m famished. My hunger suddenly seems insatiable.”
Softly spoken, yet dripping with innuendo, his words made Olivia break her resolve. She peeked at him and her gaze instantly locked with his. From the blistering, predatory glimmer in his eyes, Olivia knew instantly his words encompassed more than the need for food. His pale green gaze practically devoured her as it scorched a path from her mouth, down her neck to settle on her breasts. Thank goodness for the dinner table! Olivia was sure his perusal would’ve veered below the waist.
An unbidden image of him lifting her skirt and licking a hot path along her inner thigh bombarded Olivia’s already troubled thoughts. Rattled, she dropped her spoon. The utensil fell against her bowl, rebounded off her plate and splattered soup all over the embroidered table cloth.
“I…I guess something is wrong, Harry. I’m just all thumbs tonight.” She offered up the pathetic excuse while dabbing at the mess with her napkin.
Meredith must’ve heard the commotion because she burst from the kitchen. With one hand, she plucked her pristine apron from her waist and with the other she smacked Olivia’s hands away.
“You’re having some kind of evening aren’t you, Miss Olivia?” Meredith pointed out while attacking the soup stains.
“One of a kind,” Olivia muttered, her entire body flushed with embarrassment.
In short order, Meredith contained Olivia’s faux pas until the soup was sopped up and only a few faint stains, which would come out in tomorrow’s laundry, remained. Satisfied with her ministrations, Meredith bundled up her soiled apron and headed toward the kitchen.
“I’ll be right back with the second course,” she imparted over her shoulder. “Miss Olivia, try your best not to break anything while I’m gone.”
Mortified, Olivia temporarily lost the ability to speak. Her brother had not.
“Take it easy on her,” Harry implored, pretending to admonish their housekeeper because he did nothing to suppress his laughter. “It isn’t every day we have such an illustrious guest.”
“And a handsome one at that,” Meredith even had the nerve to bat her lashes at Khalid.
“Meredith!” Olivia chided, causing the other woman to look sheepish as she slinked into the kitchen. Of course, Olivia blamed her irritation over their housekeeper’s behavior as indignation, not jealousy.
It took all of Olivia’s sheer will to keep her composure as the evening progressed. She no longer made eye contact, but that didn’t hinder her from seeing how many times Khalid buttered his bread or sipped at his wine glass. And whenever, he spoke, his words poured over her like a silken caress, tormenting her with promises of hot, sultry nights filled with erotic delights she could only imagine.
What’s the matter with me? The man painted all women as nothing but dispensable pawns to quench his lusts, and yet she was sitting here watching his every move—craving his touch, wanting his kisses, and wondering what it would be like to be taken by him. In mounting frustration, Olivia bit her bottom lip. Good thing she wouldn’t be seeing Khalid Francois Du?s after tonight.
“Isn’t that right, Liv?”
“W-what?” Olivia blinked at her brother as if seeing him for the first time. He might as well have been invisible with the way her mind kept creeping to the their guest.
“Khalid is welcome to stay with us for the duration of his stay in New York.”
Startled by the implication of having Khalid under their roof, Olivia struggled for words. She looked at him as if he could provide an answer. Their gazes met and an electric current ran through her body, making her feel more alive than she’d ever felt in her life.
“It will only be for three days,” Khalid said, as if a short stay would be any less dangerous than an extended one. Olivia inwardly groaned. If he only knew the damage he’d already wrecked in less than two hours. At this pace, it would take weeks to thoroughly purge him from her system, if not months.
“The Vanderbilt Cup is Saturday,” he explained. “After that, my team and I board a steamer for Spain to race in the Grand Prix.” He even sweetened the deal with a charming smile that had Olivia wondering if his lips would be soft and hot against her skin.
A refusal was on her lips, but she asked, “So you’re a race car driver?”
“I’m an industrialist at heart,” he paused to take a sip of his wine. His tongue darted out and ran along his full bottom lip as if relishing the taste of the imported Burgundy. Olivia found herself tracking its movement and almost regretting the moment when he resumed the conversation. “Racing cars is a means to an end,” he explained. “It’s one of the more exciting ways we promote the vehicles we manufacture.”
“Is it dangerous?”No,no,no,no! Why was she allowing herself to become entangled in his web?
“Racing is more dangerous than gambling on the stock market, but not nearly as hazardous as falling in love with a beautiful woman.”
If it weren’t for Harry’s sudden laughing fit, Olivia would’ve bought Khalid’s rubbish lock, stock, and barrel. Completely spellbound by his gaze and seductive poetic license, she almost believed he was speaking directly to her.
“So…does Khalid stay or do we throw him out on the stoop with the rest of the garbage he’s spewing. Falling in love with a beautiful woman, indeed!”
Overcome with another fit of laughter, Harry doubled over. Otherwise preoccupied, he didn’t notice the look that passed between their guest and his sister. Far from amused, Khalid’s somber expression only verified Olivia’s suspicions and helped to influence her decision.
“Three days shouldn’t be a burden.”
Olivia silently berated herself. There was no way this man—this arrogant, egotistical charlatan—should remain under foot to tempt her into abandoning her principles. Still, something inside her wanted him to stay.
“R-r-really?” Harry sputtered. “You’re fine with him staying?” He looked at Olivia and then at Khalid as if he’d missed something.
“You and I spend more time at the office than at home, so our paths should barely cross,” Olivia rationalized, but deep down she knew Khalid would make it inevitable. “And if we do, I promise to be amenable.”
“I promise as well.” There was that smile again. The one that made her breast feel heavy and her inner thighs tingle.
“Isn’t she a peach of a girl,” Harry gushed, oblivious to his sister’s current condition.
“A peach,” Khalid reiterated, his gaze never leaving hers. And Olivia suddenly wondered what it would feel like to be devoured by him.