The Sheikh's Illicit Affair Read Online Free PDF Page A

service, you may tip them more.”
     
    Megan’s cheeks grew warm. “Well, yes, and thank you, but this is much more than an excellent tip.”
     
    “And you are much more than an excellent teacher,” Zaakir said, and the grin he gave her was startling in the way it made her stomach quiver. He put the money in her hand and closed her fingers around it. “Please. Accept this as a symbol of my deepest gratitude.”
     
    Megan blinked at him in shock, then went in a daze back to her office, placing the envelope and the new stack of cash—the same amount he’d given her the previous night—into the safe. She realized as she closed the safe that she certainly wouldn’t have to worry about covering her bills for a while—at the very least she could give him a longer lesson.
     
    Back in the studio, Megan straightened her shoulders and addressed the Sheikh. “Are you ready to learn some serious tango?”
     
    “Absolutely.”
     
    They danced together for another half hour. Megan taught him some of the most advanced moves she knew, and all of them he picked up easily. In the entire evening, he made at most two missteps, both of which he quickly corrected. His skill was beyond impressive. They spun to a close as the final song ended, and she beamed at him.
     
    “You are a fabulous student, Zaakir,” Megan said with a grin. Breathing heavily, she downed a cup of water and refilled it.
     
    The Sheikh did the same, but he wore no smile.
     
    As her heart rate began to settle, Megan noticed that her student seemed sad; his mouth drooped and he didn’t seem to want to look at her.
     
    “Have I worn you out?” she chuckled.
     
    “No.” He shook his head and downed another glass of water.
     
    “Did you want to go over any of the moves one more time?”
     
    He shook his head again.
     
    “Well I think you’re more than ready for the big day. Your bride will be thoroughly impressed by your tango skills; I can guarantee that much.”
     
    “Thank you.” He set down his empty cup and picked up his jacket.
     
    “Is everything okay? Have I said something wrong?” She couldn’t place his sudden shift in mood. All evening, he’d been talkative and smiled easily, and right up to their last dance, he’d appeared alive and energetic. It was as if someone had flicked a switch.
     
    “Megan.” He turned to her, staring deep into her eyes. “Will you join me for a drink?”

 
     
    FOUR

Megan felt the shock of his question like a kick to the gut. She wanted more than anything to get to know him better and spend the rest of her evening gazing into the those alluring eyes. But he had a bride waiting for him. It would be highly inappropriate for her to go anywhere with him—it was maybe even inappropriate for them to be alone in her studio, dancing a dance meant for lovers, so late into the night.
     
    “N-No,” she stuttered. “I can’t, it’s… It wouldn’t be right. You’re getting married. I’m sure your fiancée wouldn’t be happy about it.”
     
    “Megan, you are the most wonderful dancer I’ve ever met. You move like water and music and when you teach, it’s like you’re telling my feet how to move and they obey. I have been the luckiest man to spend these nights with you, and in exchange I’ve kept you late, and you’ve missed dinner. Please, let me make up for being so inconsiderate. I assure you, we would be going just as friends.”
     
    Megan considered this. Maybe if she saw Zaakir as just a friend, she would feel better about it. Nothing would happen between them—it couldn’t, what with his impending marriage. And since that was the case, then his intention now must be only honorable.
     
    “As friends,” he said again. “I insist.”
     
    She took a deep breath. “Okay.” She looked down at her leotard, chiffon skirt, and tights. “I’ll just need to change first, and I’m afraid what I have with me to go home in isn’t exactly an outfit I’d wear to go out