In Too Deep_ Husband Material & the Sheikh's Bargained Bride - Brenda Jackson [42]
“What does that mean?”
“Polo players are rated yearly by their peers on a scale of two to ten goals. The term ‘goal’ doesn’t refer to how many goals the player will score in a match, but indicates the player’s value to the team. Player handicaps range from novice—or negative two—to ten, which is perfect. A rating of above two goals indicates a professional player.”
“And you’re, of course, perfect. But I already knew that.”
He put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. His gaze blazed down on her for a long moment as he seemed to vibrate with something vast and uncontainable, sweeping her in a swath of lust that singed her down to her bones. Then he kissed her. She pressed against him, her head falling back, sending her heavy curls cascading over his arm as it clutched her waist.
When he relinquished her lips in agonizing slowness, he left her panting for more. The ferocious appreciation in his eyes made her feel intoxicated, brazen.
“So that’s your handicap,” she whispered, her voice husky with arousal. “What’s your preferred…position?”
At her barely veiled innuendo, his pupils engulfed the gold of his eyes like a black hole would the sun. “Any and every position. As long as it fulfills the purpose of the…game.” She shuddered with the need eating through her, to have him pleasure her in all those positions. She’d been going crazy reliving the memories of the times they’d been together. “But my preferred position is number three.”
For a moment she thought he meant the third time he’d taken her, that next morning, when he’d had her riding him as he’d suckled her nipples and fondled her triggers. He went on, a devilish smile on his masterpiece lips. “It’s similar to a quarterback in football, usually reserved for the highest handicapped and most experienced player. It entails attacking the opposing offense and turning the ball up field, requiring long-distance hitting accuracy and superb mallet and ball control.”
“And we all know what kind of control you have.” She actually meant his ability to stay away from her, but he clearly thought she meant his control during lovemaking. His gaze smoldered until she felt he was burning her up from the inside out. Unable to deal with the unease and embarrassment of explaining her true meaning, she reverted to her earlier worry. “So, after your injury, didn’t you hesitate before getting back on a horse, embroiled in another bruising polo match?”
“Not for a second. There’s nothing more exhilarating than going at a speed of thirty-five miles an hour on a horse you feel as one with. It’s such a pleasure and privilege to form a bond and share the synergy of the play with a horse. And then there is the breeze rushing against your face as time stands still while you swing the mallet knowing the exact second you’ll hit the ball, feeling the satisfaction of catapulting it exactly where you want it, setting up the play that will end up in a score.”
She sighed. “You make me wish I played polo.”
“If you so wish it, then so shall it be.”
She shook her head wistfully. “I can’t even ride a horse. My father never let me. At first he said I was too young, too slight. Then after my mom died, he became even more overprotective. I had to fight for each inch of independence, and riding horses was one of the things I decided to forgo in order to have other things. He even made me swear I’d never ride while I was away at college. I always felt so…deprived. I contented myself with taking every opportunity to visit with our vineyards’ horses.”
“I can tell you love horses. Aswad and Layl took to you immediately. I’m sure they’d love to have your company whenever possible.”
She sighed again. “But now that you’ve outlined the real dangers of riding, I can better understand my father’s worry.”
Something strange came into Adham’s eyes again. What was this? Was he angry? At whom? Her father, for limiting her? Or at himself for planting in her mind worry over his beloved sport?
Next second, the ominous cloud disappeared and the world was bright and shining once