‘I—I’m sorry—’ She stammered her apology awkwardly and bowed her head again to be on the safe side. ‘But you are partly to blame. You don’t dress like a prince and you didn’t introduce yourself.’
There was a muffled sound of alarm and disbelief from the man who had led her to the room but the prince’s cool gaze didn’t flicker.
‘And how am I supposed to dress, Miss Kingston?’ he enquired smoothly and Emily shivered as his deep, masculine voice slid over her bones like melted chocolate. He had the blazing self-confidence of someone who’d been on the receiving end of female adoration for his entire life.
‘Well like—like—an Arabian prince,’ she finished lamely. ‘You know—robes and things…’ Her voice tailed off and she closed her eyes briefly and cringed slightly. She sounded so stupid.
The prince obviously thought so too if his sardonic expression was anything to go by. ‘Do you think this is some sort of pantomime,’ he observed silkily, one dark eyebrow lifting in mockery, ‘and that we should all be in costume?’
Without waiting for her reply he turned to the man who had been listening to the exchange with undisguised horror and snapped out a few words of a strange language.
The man made a hasty retreat, throwing pitying looks at Emily on the way out.
‘I—I’m sorry for the confusion, Your Highness,’ she mumbled, her cheeks burning with mortification.
How could she have made such a stupid mistake?
‘There was no confusion on my part, Miss Kingston.’
He strode over to the window and stared down into the courtyard, momentarily distracted by something that was happening below him.
Emily just stared.
He was spectacular. Her eyes fixed on those thick dark lashes, slid down the hard planes of his handsome face to rest on his darkened jaw, before sliding down still further to the bulk of his shoulders.
Why were only half the women in the world in love with him? she wondered dizzily. What was the matter with the other half? Were they blind?
Or were they wise?
Suddenly aware that she was staring danger in the face for the first time in her boring, sheltered life, she took an involuntary step backwards, trying to shake off the shockingly hot thoughts that crowded her brain.
Appalled and confused by her own feelings, she hoped fervently that the man couldn’t read minds.
‘You must be wondering why I’m here—’
The prince turned suddenly, the expression in his eyes so chilly that she literally shivered.
‘I have not invited you to speak.’
Emily’s blue eyes widened in consternation and hot colour flooded her cheeks. Then she gave a little frown, dragging her eyes away from that cold gaze and telling herself that whoever he was, it didn’t give him the right to be rude.
Her eyes fixed on his broad shoulders and she wondered helplessly why on earth he bothered with guards. He looked as though he could take on an entire army single-handed if the whim so took him. His suit was beautifully cut but there was no disguising the width of his shoulders or the muscles of his long, powerful thighs.
He was the very embodiment of masculine perfection and she felt her mouth dry as his arrogant gaze slid over her in a leisurely appraisal.
‘Come closer,’ he ordered harshly and she found herself obeying without question, almost hypnotized by the force of his presence.
At five feet ten she was used to staring most men directly in the eye and she just hated the fact that she was so tall, but standing face to face with this man she had to tip her head back to look at him. For the first time in her life she felt delicate and feminine and she found herself struggling to breathe, swamped by his overpowering masculinity.
‘So.’ He stood with his legs spread apart and his head thrown back, each sweep of that arrogant gaze draining her fragile confidence. ‘For your sake, Miss Kingston, I hope that you are here to repay your brother’s debt.’
There was something in his tone that made Emily wish fervently that she’d stayed in England.
‘I’m not exactly repaying it today,’ she began and his mouth tightened ominously.
‘And yet that was the purpose of this meeting. Your brother was to repay the money owed.’
She gazed into those hard black eyes, searching for a hint of softness or compromise. Finding none, she licked her lips, suddenly finding it hard to speak. ‘Well, it isn’t quite as simple as that.’
‘It is precisely as simple as that.’
How could a man’s voice be so quiet and yet be filled with such menace?
No wonder he had a reputation for being a staggeringly successful businessman, Emily thought weakly. He probably intimidated his opponent so effectively that no one ever dared say ‘no’ to him.
‘You’re obviously wondering why I’m here instead of my brother,’ she began hesitantly and his dark eyes gleamed with mockery.
‘I am not a fool, Miss Kingston,’ he said silkily, ‘and it is entirely clear to me why you are here instead of your brother.’
His gaze slid over her in a blatantly masculine appraisal and suddenly she felt hot all over. He didn’t actually need to speak to intimidate her. Just a look from those dangerous black eyes was enough to turn her legs wobbly.
‘He sent me because he couldn’t come himself,’ Emily muttered, feeling a sudden urge to clarify that fact just in case he thought—he thought—
Zak al-Farisi lifted a dark eyebrow. ‘My command of English is sufficiently advanced that I know the difference between “couldn’t” and “wouldn’t”,’ he drawled. ‘I am intrigued as to which one of your many and varied charms were supposed to soothe my anger at your brother’s absence. Which one of your skills is guaranteed to take my mind off the debt, I wonder?’
Moving away from the window, he paced towards her, walking around her as if she were an exhibit in a museum, a predatory smile on his handsome face. He paused and lifted a hand to her face, tilting it slightly so that he could study her more closely. ‘Your purpose here is to persuade me to cancel the debt.’
‘Not cancel exactly—’ Emily was finding it difficult to concentrate, frozen to the spot by a tension that she couldn’t identify and by the touch of his strong fingers against her hot cheek ‘—more postpone.’
His hard mouth tightened. ‘Before you dig yourself deep into a hole from which there is no escape, you should know that deception is not a quality I admire in a woman.’
‘I am not deceiving anyone,’ Emily said indignantly, ‘and I’m not asking you to cancel the debt. Just to give Peter more time. He wants two more months. Then he’ll pay back every penny. He’s given his word.’
‘Is this the same word he
