The Sheikh's Fantasy Girl - Completed.

Chapter Eighteen

Slamming the front door behind him, Shihab took after her, but she was far too fast. He burst in after her, relieved to find the bed empty as well as the room. 

No evidence of Andrea being there. 

"You better have a good explanation for your behaviour Carla," he warned. No matter what she thought she had no right to be here. That ship had never even entered the waters. The blond turned towards him with cold hard blue eyes.

"I thought we were an item."

He arched a brow at that. "Really, that is a first for me." He walked out of the bedroom, and she followed through the other door. He did a quick scan to come up empty, frowning. This was beyond a joke. 

"The only reason you are here is for yourself, as usual. You want a part in this film. Wasn't ever going to happen as you were told, Andie doesn't do blonds, too commonplace. As for entering my bedroom that is one step too far. Wait until you are asked." Her lips parted. "Never going to happen," he added, making it clear he wasn't interested.

"But...but.." She blustered.

"No buts, you need to leave now," he barked.

She glared at him, hands on hips. "And what is it about you and this writer? I mean you really have lowered your standards," she hissed.

"That's it, out. I have heard enough of your rubbish, and if you ever barge into my rooms again, you'd be asked to leave the resort, and black-banned from all films." 

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. 

Fed up, he walked up to her, grabbed her arm, ready to toss her out on her blond roots.

She pulled her arm free and stormed out, door slamming.

Warily he ran a hand over his face, and then headed back into the bedroom, relieved to find Andrea back in his bed. He gave her a guarded smile. "Sorry about that. The last person I expected at my door," he crossed over and sat down on the bed, leaning in and planting a kiss on her lips. "I don't want you getting the wrong idea."

Her fingers curled around his robe. "That's because she's an annoying blond, that is why I don't do blonds," she pulled him down to her, kissing him back.

"Thank goodness." He shifted over her, hovering as she lay back into the pillows as the kiss deepened. He pulled off his robe, breaking briefly, tossing it over the bed, and going back into her waiting arms that wrapped around his neck.

"Unless you want me to make her a crazy cat lady," she teased against his lips. He rolled onto his back, raking a hand down his face. "Or perhaps some sociopath, obsessed with the heroine, and she would have to die, of course."

He eyed her sideways. "Aren't they usually obsessed with the hero?" She nodded with a cheeky smile.

"But I could have so much fun."

"Remind me not to annoy the writer in you."

Guilt flooded her cheeks. His eyes narrowed. "What has your poor hero suffered because of me?"

She edged closer to him, placing a hand on his chest. "Nothing too damaging."

He stretched lazily, placing hands behind his head, looking down upon her through hooded eyes. "So I could be reformed?"

"Not that she would let you, oh; she was peeved at you."

"So that's what you do, say all the things you wanted to say, but wouldn't dare say to someone's face. I'd better see those pages."

She shook her head, easing up closer, placing kisses on his chest up towards his neck. "Probably not a good idea anyway needs editing."

"I will," he vowed then eased off the bed before she tempted him beyond reason.