Sheikh's Hired Mistress(8)

By: Sophia Lynn & Ella Brooke

“It’s freezing, but this is still better than that party,” Laine said.

Aziz wrapped his arm around her. He frowned as he looked at her. Laine was about to ask him what was wrong, when his finger traced down the scar over her forehead. She looked away and pulled on the top of her dress, which was starting to slip in the water.

“Ah. I know,” Aziz whispered. “You save your secrets for those you know and trust. I’ll strive to earn the right to be considered one of them.”

Laine slipped away from him then. It became apparent that she was the better swimmer, even if he’d seemed graceful enough at first. He tried to catch her, but each time he nearly grasped a foot or an elbow, Laine turned in the water and got around him as quickly as a seal.

In the end, both laughing and splashing, Laine let him catch her, kiss her, move his hands over her body.

“You can’t be in there!” boomed a man’s voice.

Aziz’s brows knit together and his jaw grew stiff as he looked up at their interruption. It was the bouncer and a slim man in a suit. Probably a manager.

“I will be where I please!” Aziz announced.

“Not in our fountain!” the manager objected. “Sir, you must get out of the fountain immediately.”

Stubbornly, Aziz lifted his chin. “We will leave when we are finished, and not a moment sooner.”

“Don’t make me drag you out of there,” the bouncer said. “I don’t care who you are.”

“You will not touch either of us,” Aziz said confidently. He didn’t even move to stand.

Laine watched the exchange with wide eyes. She then spotted Aziz’s bodyguard. She had known that the guy had to be somewhere nearby, but it was like he’d simply melted into their surroundings. Laine also didn’t doubt that if Aziz wanted to force the issue, he could get his way here. He could probably have every person working tonight fired. He’d probably bought the damn club from the couple who had hired Brandt Interiors to improve the club’s look.

“You think so, buddy?” the bouncer challenged.

Laine feigned a shiver, even though she was quite warmed up now. “Aziz,” she said quietly. “I want to go. I’m cold. Can we get back to the limo, turn on some heat?”

Aziz looked to her and touched her cheek. Immediately he rose, climbed out of the fountain, and offered her a hand. Laine took it gratefully, as she had to use her other hand to keep her dress from falling down, heavy and sodden with water as it was. She picked up her shoes with two fingers and pressed herself closely to Aziz, letting him lead the way out.

He put his arm around her and held her tightly. And he made no apologies to the manager as he went with his bodyguard.

Laine, however, turned her head slightly and said, “Thank you! We had a wonderful time!”

By the time they reached the limo, Laine found herself genuinely shivering. Her teeth had started to chatter. Aziz ushered her into the car and directed his guard to sit up front.

“I should have considered that you would get cold afterward,” Aziz said, pulling off his wet jacket.

“I considered it.” Laine shrugged. “I did it anyway.”

Aziz stripped off his shirt as well. “You should remove your clothes.”

Laine looked at her dress, which now clung to every curve of her body. She felt like she shouldn’t completely disrobe, but she couldn’t stop shaking.

Aziz reached over to a compartment beside the bar and pulled out a couple of shirts. “I have nothing appropriate for a lady such as yourself, but you are welcome to wear some clothing of mine.”

Laine leaned over to see. Aziz’s shirts would be almost long enough to be a dress on her. She turned away from Aziz, who was now removing his pants, and reached back to tug on her zipper.

“Oh, of course. It’s stuck,” she grumbled.

Aziz appeared behind her, touching her shoulder gently, and then took the fabric in hand and coaxed the zipper down. “There we are.”

Laine slipped out of the dress. Aziz’s warm fingers touched her shoulder blade. For a moment, she considered asking for the shirt. She should cover up, slink home, and remember the night she’d swum at a nightclub with a handsome, charismatic stranger.

But she was dreadfully tired of being the good sister. She was tired of doing what she should do, just as she was afraid of not doing it.

Instead, she faced him, one arm crossed over her bare midsection a little self-consciously. He hadn’t put anything else on either. Unsurprisingly, his suit had hidden his broad shoulders and well defined pectoral muscles. His whole body was as finely chiseled as his jaw line. Between the air and the beating of her heart, Laine started to feel warm again, and in spite of herself, she reached out and touched him, moving her hand along each ripple of muscle.