“Merely satisfying my concern that you did not waken.”

“Blame jet lag, stress, flying through a war zone with a mad bomber on my back. I am awake now. If you’ll grant me some privacy to dress, I would like to speak with you… out there.”

“As you wish. I will wait for you in the lounge.” Leeteuk bowed graciously. He stepped out of the bath, drawing the doors closed.

“Whew! Talk about feeling vulnerable.” Sora exhaled.

 She ran to the wide vanity and fumbled on the marble countertop for the contacts she’s taken and left soaking. She dressed hastily, exchanging the robes for her linen pants and shirt. She’d left her bra tucked in a corner pocket of her garment bag. She certainly thought it prudent not to make a mad, wet dash into the bedroom to retrieve it. She had taken enough risks in a damp robe. That man did not need any encouragement!

She brush her wet tangled hair, braided it and turned it into a prim coil at her neck, securely pinned.

Dressing accomplished, she opted for bare feet. Where ever possible, Sora left off shoes. Omar waited in the lounge. She thought if she put on her boots, she might be tempted to kick him to kingdom come. Bare feet definitely stifled that urge.

Sora stepped into the lounge. He had switched on all the lights. She had the distinct feeling that the room had shrunk while she’d been sleeping. Or was it because he was in it?

Leeteuk was standing, and turned to her as she entered. Sora deliberately refused to look directly at him as she circled the room. When she did move her gaze up to his too-handsome countenance, the frown of displeasure in his eyes took her back a bit.

Had she thought him stone-faced on the first meeting him? A man who never gave aways his feelings Most definitely. But he felt free enough on this meeting to allow some of his feelings to show. Disapproval ran rank. She wondered why. In the bath, approval had gleamed from his dark, chinky sensuous eyes and she was not so blind without her contacts that she hadn’t seen it. More important, she had felt it! His change of mood threw her off balance.

“Come. Sit down. We will talk.” His invitation was stiffly, spoken, formal.

Sora crossed the room, but stopped first at a trolley laid out with glasses, ice in a silver bucket and what not.

“I would like something to drink first.”

“I have ordered tea.”

“Something stronger.” Sora dropped to one knee checking behind the closed doors below the serving tray. There was a can or two of pop.

“Are you looking for whiskey?”

“Whiskey?” Sora rose to her feet, perplexed by what she detected a condemnation. Normally, she would take that attitude from anyone. At her age, she didn’t have to. “No, I just woke up Omar. Coffee is the first order of my day.”

“Coffee,” Leeteuk repeated. He went to the intercom ans spoke briskly in Arabic, ordering coffee brought to them.

For the lack of anything stronger at the moment, Sora poured water over the glasses of ice and drained it. Anything to delay turning to face him. Obviously he wasn’t away until they’d had a chat. 

She left the empty glass on the tray and, turning, faced him.

“Well? What now, Sheik Haaris?”

“Come, sit down please. There are numerous things we must discuss. You have nothing to fear from me. After all, our fathers are involved in business together. Correct?”

“Technically.” Sora granted him that much. She refilled her glass, continuing to delay approaching a man she didn’t feel quite safe approaching.

No, it went deeper than that. Something unsettled, ruffled the air between them, as if there were a throbbing air current or a pulsing undertow dragging her to him. She fought it, resisting out of hand because she didn’t know what else to do. But he was so damned attractive that she yearned to let go and be pulled into it… whatever it was. 

Don’t be silly, she muttered to herself, and cast a significant glance at him, speculating about what was hidden by all that folding linen. The flowing robe didn’t fool her one bit. She’d already seen in a flight suit, and if anyone had flaws to their body shape, a flight suit revealed them. Clearly, she wasn’t the only person in the room who knew how lift a weight bar. She was sure he did some power lifting in his spare time, too. Hastily, Sora snapped her thoughts back to where they belonged with a silent, mental scold for their being so unruly.

She was supposed to figure out whether or not he was the type who would pounce the minute she becomes still, and here she was wandering what would happen if she did the pouncing!

The sitting area contained no single chairs, only those ultra-modern sectional that formed groupings. Knowing she had to sit somewhere, Sora dropped onto a curving corner of the first pit grouping, scooted back and tucked her bare feet beneath her. She set her glass of water on the coaster on the low Ming coffee table and folded her arms defensively across her chest, awaiting his next maneuver.

The sheik remained standing for a moment longer, studying her. He did not like her hair twisted into that tight knot at the top of her head. He cared nothing for her modern pants of shirt that would swallow a woman twice her size. Her firm chin rose a few degrees, and though she said nothing, he could sense her defiance. It was nearly a palpable thing. Her cocked eyebrow and set mouth told him she would give an excellent fight before surrendering anything she considered valuable to her. The fullness of that same mouth implied that she was of a passionate nature and that a conquest would be sweet and fulfilling for both of them. Half smiling to those inner deductions, he took the couch opposite her.

Sora watched the man most carefully as he sat down. The edge of his gilt-trimmed robe parted, revealing dark, tailor made trousers encasing lean, muscular thighs. She tried to keep her gaze fixed to the not-so neutral ground of his eyes, but it was hard not to take a peek or two at such an utterly splendid male.

All right, she scolded herself mentally once more. She sis know a few hunks back home. Bodybuilders who used the same gym where she worked out four times a week. Not many seemed overly blessed with brains or sensitivity. Like as not they were misjudged on the surface as she was. No one expect an American-Korean lady to have brains or mechanical ability.