The Sheik's Rebellious Mistress Read Online Free

it was about him that assured her guard that she could be trusted when all the others had been instantly intimidated by her guard coming closer.
    “You"re husband should be ashamed of himself for forcing you to work.” “Oh, I"m not married,” she said and took a sip of her coffee. She held the grimace at the dark liquid, too embarrassed to put cream or sugar into her coffee. She didn"t want to appear silly and childish to the man who drank his black.
    “Boyfriend?” he questioned.
     
    “No. No one,” she said, her eyelids lowering in an effort to cover the anger in her eyes at that status.
     
    She heard the soft chuckle at her reply. “Gauging from the expression you are trying to hide, there"s more to the story. Perhaps you have just broken up with your boyfriend?”
    Electra was stunned by the man"s perceptiveness. “No. Nothing like that,” she said, but not going further to explain that she"d never had a boyfriend. Creamy, sweet coffee and absolutely no experience with men would not create the sophisticated woman of the world image she was hoping to project. “Are you married?” she asked tentatively.
    He smiled slightly. “Alas, no woman will have me,” he teased.
    Electra laughed, her eyes skimming over his dark, handsome features and his tall, athletic body and shook her head. “As you said, I"m guessing there"s more to that story than you"re probably willing to talk about. Am I correct?”
    Instead of answering her, he took her hand and turned it over. “You"re hands are soft, so you don"t work with them too often. What does a lovely woman like you do during the daytime hours?” he asked.
    She raised her eyebrow in challenge. “Perhaps I work nights,” she suggested, then blushed at the suggestion that she might be a prostitute. “I mean…” she stammered, “I don"t…that is…” she stopped when he laughed softly.
    “I know you aren"t,” he assured her suavely.
    She pulled her hand away, miffed for some bizarre reason. “How can you be so sure?” she asked, her chin going up a notch defiantly. “I could be,” she said. “Are you saying I don"t have what it takes to lure men into my bed?” she asked, cursing her lack of experience and the blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks.
    He held her gaze for a long time, amusement lighting his eyes. Finally he leaned back and said, “If you were a prostitute, you would not be in this hotel,” he explained. “Secondly, ladies of the night don"t wear pretty pink suits. Pink implies romance and femininity. Women who sell their bodies wear red or black to promote sexual awareness or mystery.”
Sighing, she shook her head in defeat. “I suppose you"re right. Well, live and learn,” she said with resignation. She hated being wrong, and it cut deeply right now, with this dynamic man who obviously knew so much about the world.
    He threw back hishead and laughed. “Are you saying you will rise to the challenge of selling your beautiful body to the highest bidder?”
     
    Electra smiled, feeling as if his laughter were a rare gift. “No. I don"t think I could do that to my grandmother. Her Anglican upbringing would be horrified.”
    He chuckled again. “I don"t imagine many parents are proud of their children aspiring to become a paid woman. I believe it is done out of a sense of desperation or other factors that don"t seem to apply in your case.”
    “Youhave a point,” she conceded, but her past made the admission somewhat depressing.
    “So now that we"ve established that you"re not headed into the oldest profession, what direction are you headed, careerwise?” he asked. He knew which direction he was going to head her, straight to his bed, he thought. The more he talked to her, the more enchanted he was. Prostitute, indeed! Inwardly, he was still laughing at this tiny female"s audacity.
    “I would love to teach children,” she said.
    Her admission surprised him. She was exceptionally beautiful but he knew that if he"d had a