Ricardo (The Santiago Brothers Book Three) by K. Victoria Chase

with a force that took her breath away.
    His hands held the sides of her face and kept her imprisoned as his mouth worked unbelievable magic on her opinion about how terrible kissing was — teasing, prodding, suckling. Her lips clung desperately to his; she tried hard to keep pace but her lack of experience proved it difficult. As if he sensed her struggle, he slowed his movements, took his time in his exploration and allowed her the same courtesy.
    When he finally released her, she trembled from shock interlaced with unadulterated pleasure.
    Pleasure.
    Actual pleasure.
    From a kiss.
    She groaned, pushed him away and stood to move to the side of the table and used it to support her weakened knees. Her eyes caught sight of Hakeem, who still dreamed in the corner, a pleasant smile on his sleeping face. That man could sleep through anything.
    “What? Did I do something wrong?” Ric asked.
    Lord, no . “Yes.”
    He laughed softly. “We both know that’s not true.”
    She was actually sweating now. The blush in her cheeks incinerating layers of skin — slowly. Her eyes darted around the room for ice, water, anything she could use to stop the flames from branding a permanent hue to her face.
    “Let me get you some water.” He poured from the pitcher, which sat on the table inches from her hands.
    Was there no end to her embarrassment?
    “Here, take this.” He handed her a glass of cool, clear liquid.
    After a tentative sip, she emptied the glass in three gulps.
    He arched both brows, a twinkle in his eyes and an upward tilt at the corners of his mouth. “Thirsty?”
    She could only nod and hand him the glass.
    “It’s your turn.” He went to refill her glass.
    “Um…”
    “Not an answer.”
    “I’m thinking.”
    “I know. Why? There’s a lot you want to say. I can see it in your eyes.” Instead of taking her into his arms, he deposited the glass near her and took a seat at the table. He pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit down.
    “Don’t you have some work to do?”
    He frowned. “Come on, don’t do that. Trust requires two willing partners.”
    He was right, but that was easier said than done. Granted, the story of his scar was horrible — how he was able to get past it, she couldn’t fathom — but what her boyfriend had done to her… He was someone she knew and trusted, and he turned out to be completely different. Perhaps she’d imagined his noble character because how could she explain her poor choice in a boyfriend?
    Hakeem grunted from his position. He yawned loudly. “Ah, Ric, you’re back.”
    Ric chuckled. “I am. Did you have a good nap?”
    Hakeem smiled. “Ready for dinner?”
    “Ah, Hakeem, yes.” Ric rubbed his stomach. “When? Now? Please say now.”
    “Now.”
    “Good. Wait, really?”
    Hakeem moved aside the sleeve of his cloak that covered his watch. “Yes, now. I had a meal ordered and they should be outside the tent at any moment.” With a bit of effort, he hoisted himself up, walked to the tent’s entrance and held open the flap. Several people entered with covered trays. Mel’s mouth watered. Suddenly, she, too, felt hungry despite eating breakfast only a couple of hours before. The servers lifted the lids to reveal fish, jasmine rice, steamed vegetables, two different types of rolls, and more curry chicken. She didn’t mind seeing curry again — she liked it.
    “Oh, Hakeem…” Ric offered him a lopsided smile. “You’re sure this isn’t the sheik’s meal?”
    A chortle escaped the dark lips of the older man. His weathered face crinkled with humor. “Indeed, this is not his meal.” He waited until the servers had departed the tent before adding, “It wouldn’t be enough.”
    “That’s for sure.”
    “Thank you, Hakeem,” Mel said.
    He bowed deeply. “My pleasure. Anything for you, my desert flower.”
    “Ugh, stop.” Ric held up a hand to shield him from Hakeem’s presence.
    “You would do well to take lessons from me.”
    “Ha!