barely touched her and yet the burning heat in his dark eyes had been enough to have her swaying towards him in an instinctive feminine response to his powerful masculinity. But then Zak al-Farisi was a man so skilled in the seduction of women that someone as inexperienced as her would be child’s play to him.
Emily gripped the bag tightly with slender fingers and tried to pull herself together.
That she could respond that way to someone that she didn’t even like filled her with dismay and confusion.
She’d always thought that for her sex was something that would happen within the confines of a loving relationship. Unlike some of her peers, she’d never seen the attraction of casual sexual encounters. Until now.
You want him, she mocked herself gently. Go on, admit it. Zak al-Farisi might not be a nice person but you want him. And the thought of being taken to his bed—
She closed her eyes and gave a moan of self-loathing.
No!
She had no intention of being anyone’s virgin sacrifice!
That wasn’t the sort of relationship she wanted. That was just sex, and she wasn’t interested in anything so fragile, however exciting it might seem. She’d long ago decided that when she finally fell for a man their relationship would be based on mutual respect and friendship.
So why did her dream for the future suddenly seem so solid and boring?
She gave a little shiver. Zak al-Farisi might be astonishingly good-looking but his charms definitely ended there. He was totally unreasonable, accusing Peter of some sort of crime when she knew that her brother would never do anything illegal and the whole situation was just the result of a misunderstanding. It had to be.
And there was no way she was going to allow the prince to keep her here.
She pushed the last of her things into her bag and bit her lip.
No one was going to hold her against her will!
Pushing aside the uncomfortable thought that what she was actually escaping from was a part of herself that she hadn’t known existed before today, she gritted her teeth, jerked the zip closed and tossed the bag on the floor.
The airport hadn’t been that far away, she reasoned as she slipped her passport into the pocket of her dress. All she had to do was to persuade someone to give her a lift.
And leave the palace without getting caught—
She walked over to the windows of her room and stared thoughtfully down into the courtyard three floors below. Not far. Her eyes drifted to the elaborate curtains and then to the rope that held them back. Just like the ropes in the gym at school, she mused, fingering the rope thoughtfully.
Strong enough to take a person’s weight.
It was fortunate that she was athletic.
‘Miss Kingston has left the palace, Your Highness.’
Zak lifted his head. He was fresh from studying the expenses of his sister-in-law, and his patience was already severely challenged.
‘How?’
Sharif cleared his throat. ‘She—er—abseiled down the side of the building.’
Zak dropped the pen he was holding, his mind temporarily leaving the ever-absorbing question of how one woman could spend so much on so little. ‘She what?’
Sharif licked his lips. ‘She abseiled down the side of the palace, Your Highness. One of the guards saw her throw a rope out of the window but she moved so fast that he was unable to apprehend her.’
‘A rope?’ Zak thought back to their discussion about princes and being locked in his tower. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he drawled. ‘She spun the rope from her hair?’
Not party to the earlier conversation about fairy tales, Sharif looked confused. ‘I understand that she used the cords from the curtains, Your Highness.’
‘Of course she did.’ Zak digested this information and then sat back in his chair and gave a reluctant laugh, stunned by the realization that he’d underestimated a woman for the first time in years. For sheer nerve and inventiveness you had to admire her, he conceded, rising to his feet and pacing across to the nearest window.
And if he’d needed further proof of her guilt, then he had it now.
Emily Kingston obviously didn’t believe that there was any way her brother was going to turn up and rescue her.
But what had she hoped to achieve by escaping from the palace in such a way? Surely she knew that it was impossible for her to leave the country without his permission?
Did she really think that she could just shimmy down the palace wall and jump on a plane?
He gave Sharif a weary look, wondering why women had to be so complicated. ‘You are having her followed?’
‘Of course, Your Highness.’
‘Good.’ Zak gave a grim smile. ‘Let her walk where she wishes and see where her escape bid takes her.’
Sharif looked startled. ‘But, Your Highness, it isn’t safe for her to be wandering the streets of Kazban. She—’
‘Is in for a shock,’ Zak finished for him, his dark eyes glittering with anticipation. ‘I predict that a few hours alone in Kazban should make her desperate for my protection.’
The prospect afforded him a considerable degree of satisfaction.
Sharif looked troubled. ‘But, Your Highness, for a woman as beautiful as Miss Kingston—’ He licked his lips and broke off without finishing his sentence, suddenly remembering his place.
‘This woman sanctions theft and corruption,’ Zak reminded him curtly, rising to his feet in a lithe movement, his mouth set in a hard line. ‘Let her see a little of the rougher side of Kazban.’
Perhaps it would teach her a lesson.
Sharif hesitated. ‘But she was walking towards the souk, Your Highness, and the hour grows late. It will be dark shortly. It isn’t safe for a western woman—’
‘I agree with you entirely—’ Zak’s eyes glittered black ‘—but Emily Kingston is hardly an innocent virgin. She is obviously a woman well able to take care of herself. Let her see what can happen when she strays from the palace. In future she may not be quite so keen to leave it.’
Still looking troubled, Sharif bowed his head. ‘There is one further problem that requires your urgent attention, Your Highness.’ His tone was apologetic. ‘The nanny is finding it hard to cope with Jamal’s tantrums.’
Zak closed his eyes briefly. ‘Remind me.’ His tone was weary. ‘How long has she lasted, Sharif?’
Sharif cleared his throat. ‘Four weeks, Your Highness. Longer than the last four. I’m sorry to burden you with the problem when you have so many other matters to attend to, but while your sister-in-law is still travelling—’
