Deadlands Heat (Doomsday Lover Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Once suitably shod, I was shown into ‘the pink room,’ which turned out to be every bit as pink as one might imagine; satiny pale pink walls, blush rose and gold upholstered furniture, thick crimson rugs on the floor. In the far corner stood a startled-looking pair of stuffed flamingos, backed by spray of pampas grass and a gorgeous tapestry of the ocean at sunset.
    I sat down on the couch, stroking a finger along the gold thread of an embroidered rose. When I looked up the steward was watching with carefully polite disdain. “How may I…serve you?”
    “I’d love some water.”
    “Indeed.” He swept out of the room, leaving me alone.
    Now that I was here, surrounded by embroidered silk pillows and mahogany tables inlaid with mother of pearl, I was getting overwhelmed and a little queasy. This place made me feel…small. Okay, it made me feel worthless. That snooty bastard of a steward hadn’t helped any, but the cold truth was this fancy couch I was sitting on was probably worth more than I made in a year.
    “Water?”
    “Yes, please—” I glanced up and the words died on my tongue.
    The sheik stood in the doorway, robed in flowing black silk and framed on either side by satiny pink walls. He had silver serving tray balanced on one hand. He glided across the room and set it on the table, then poured water from the pitcher and handed it to me with a Cheshire-cat grin. I hardly felt my fingers curl around the cool glass. My mind had gone blank.
    “Your mouth is open,” he said conversationally, and then he moved opposite me, to the matching pink couch. Crossing an ankle over one knee, he leaned back and his robe gaped open, exposing a perfect vee of bronzed chest. “I hear you have a delivery for me.”
    He watched me, dark eyes intent, waiting for me to speak.
    I cleared my throat. “I um…” The cold glass was sweating over my fingers. I took a sip and set it down. This was one of the most surreal, awkward moments of my life.
    He stood and I froze, a flush creeping up my neck as he came closer. He circled me, moving with the self-possession and grace of a dancer…or a jungle cat. His dark eyes roved me in mute appraisal, his expression giving nothing away. He smelled smoky and lush, like moist new growth poking up from the ashes of a forest fire.
    My breathing turned heavy. I tried stay calm, centered, but that only seemed to make it worse. His potent nearness was enough to make my body react. He ran his fingertips lightly down my arm. I shivered—and not from fear.
    “It’s alright, little one.” His teeth were white and even when he smiled. “I don’t bite.”
    “Somehow,” I murmured, “I find that hard to believe.”
    He chuckled, a deep masculine sound that did things to me. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll say rather, I don’t bite without permission .”
    “I see...” My mind refused to form sentences. All my blood was rushing… elsewhere . At this point, I’d consider myself lucky if I could get through the conversation without drooling.
    He caught a lock of my hair and brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply. “You smell like sex,” he said. His voice had gone low, husky.
    Time stopped, along with my heart.
    “You want me to fuck you.” It wasn’t a question, which was good, because I was pretty sure I’d lost the capacity to answer. His words sent a spike of adrenaline through me, making my pulse hammer and my skin prickle as he continued to circle me, taking one slow step after the other. My body throbbed, acutely aware of his position as he moved behind me. He put his hands on either side of me and leaned in, breath hot against my ear, “Say it.”
    A delicious shiver slid down my spine. My nipples were so hard they ached. I swallowed. “I…”
    “Yes?”
    “I want you to fuck me.”
    He chuckled again and stepped away. “Was that so hard?”
    My cheeks flamed. If he was only teasing, I would die of shame. He moved towards the door and tugged on a gold braided