The Sheikh's Fantasy Girl - Completed.

Chapter Nineteen

Together they walked off, across the sands.

"You do realise tongues would be wagging again," she pointed out.

"Do you honestly care, Andrea?" She glanced up, shaking her head. "So what do you need?" Not asked or demandingly, but need. She melted.

"I know my request is going to sound strange," she paused thoughtfully. "Let me ask you first, how important is the right cover for a book?" She looked at him intensely; all ears, waiting for his answer that was so important to her.

"Very. A good cover sets the story. Gives a peek into the story, hopefully. It must catch the attention of the reader. It's like a movie trailer, which is a longer version of a book cover. A teaser of what to expect."

"The blurb," she teased, though looped her arms through his arm, closer to him. "But you see, don't you, how important a good cover is?"

"Yes, we can't have a snow in a desert story," he laughed softly, warming her all over, sensually. His laugh was rich and deep, like a robust red. Full of flavour, so rich, deep and so Shihab. He was perfect. No more beating around the bush. She stopped and turned towards him, grabbing at his hand.

"I know this is going to be so insane, well, sound it, but you're so perfect. Please say yes Shihab, I need you," she begged, rushing. She brought up his hand to her lips. "Please Shihab," she practically danced on one spot.

Freeing his hand, he claimed her face in his hands and steady her with his gaze alone. "Tell me what you want?"

"You're my new cover!" She blurted out. Excited, she broke free of his hold, eyes searching. She took a few deep breaths. "Can I take a few shots of you to show, no," she shook her head. "They would never find another you. I need you for my new book, Desire in the Desert. You are my Sheikh, my desire."

Both brows went up. "I hope so," he added with glee, eyes dancing.

"He is so you, ruthless, strong, wild yet so passionate and so desirable."

He pressed his lips together. "That Andrea is a lot to live up to."

"Please I beg of you, I need you, only you, there is no one else."

"Yes."

She stared at him, blinking as if she hadn't heard right. "Really? You would do that for me?" She asked, astonished then laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I love you Shihab!" Her eyes widened and stepped back, dropping her arms, heat burning her cheeks, looking around. "You have no idea what that means to me."

He stepped closer and cradled her face in his hands, capturing her eyes. "I prefer the other," his dark head dipped and brushed her lips with his own. "As long as you are on the cover with me. This is a love story after all." Her eyes widened in horror, shaking her head.

"I can't! No that won't work at all."

His arm went around her waist and guided her against him. "Why not? I think you would be perfect."

"I'm not heroine photographic."

"Yes, you are," he enforced. "If you want me on the cover, you have to do it with me or no deal."

Lips pressed, she placed hands on her hips. "Are you always going to be this difficult?"

"Probably and I always get my way."

"Thanks for the warning." Releasing a long breath, she eyed him off as she sent his photo to her publisher. She had an instant reaction. Shihab moved towards her as her phone buzzed.

Perfect flashed on her phone screen. Of course he was, she picked him herself. Can we use him?

Yes, she typed back, very pleased with herself, but would make it very clear they weren't allowed to exploit him in any way. After all, he was her private sheikh. Can we join you for a photoshoot?