is it you are so afraid of?’ Blaize mocked her when the lift had stopped. ‘That I might kiss you, or that I might not?’
‘Neither!’ Petra denied forcefully.
‘Liar!’ Blaize taunted her softly. ‘You are a woman, after all, and of course you want—’
‘What I want,’ Petra interrupted him angrily outside her suite door, ‘is for you to remember that I am paying you to act as my lover in public, and that is all!’
As she spoke she was fumbling in her bag for her key card, thankfully finding it and swiping it.
Blaize’s hand was on the door handle and Petra held her breath as he pushed the door open. What would she do if he insisted on coming into her room? If he insisted on doing even more than that? Her heart suddenly seemed to have developed an over-fast and erratic heartbeat, and instinctively Petra put her hand on her chest, as if she was trying to steady it.
As he held open the door for her Blaize switched on the suite lights. Petra’s mouth felt dry, her body boneless and soft, the blood running hotly through her veins. She closed her eyes and then opened them again as she heard the small but distinctive click of the suite door closing.
Whirling round, she opened her mouth to tell Blaize that she wanted him to leave, and then closed it again as she stared at the empty space between her own body and the closed door where she had expected him to be.
Blaize had gone. He had not come into her suite! He had simply closed the door and left. Which was exactly what she had wanted… wasn’t it?
CHAPTER FOUR
PETRA had finished her breakfast and the waiter had cleared away the room service trolley, leaving her with a fresh pot of coffee and the newspaper she had ordered.
She had eaten her breakfast outside on her private patio, in the pleasurable warmth of the early morning sunshine, and by rights she ought to be feeling contently relaxed.
But she wasn’t!
Her mobile phone started to ring and she picked it up.
‘Petra?’
The unexpected sound of her godfather’s voice banished her mood of introspection.
He was ringing from a satellite connection, he told her, and would not be able to stay on the line very long.
‘How are you getting on with your grandfather?’ he asked.
‘I’m not,’ Petra responded wryly. ‘I haven’t even seen him yet. He hasn’t been well enough, apparently.’
‘Petra—I can’t hear you!’ She heard her godfather interrupting her, his own voice so faint that she could barely hear it. ‘The line’s breaking up. I’m going to have to go. I’ll be out of contact for the next couple of weeks. Government business…’
A series of sharp crackles distorted his voice so much that Petra couldn’t make out what he was saying, although she thought he was telling her that he loved her. Before she could make any response the line had gone dead.
Miserably she stared at the now blank screen. There would be no point in her trying to ring back; she had no idea exactly where her godfather was and she didn’t have a number.
It was a pity that she hadn’t been able to beg him to send her her passport before the line had broken up! Now her only means of escape from her unwanted marriage was quite definitely via Blaize.
As a tiny shower of tingling excitement skittered dangerously down her spine Petra warned herself that she was being foolish—and gullible! Why had she allowed Blaize to manoeuvre her into agreeing to last night’s expensive meal, when surely her purpose could have been just as easily if not even better achieved via a short interlude on the beach with him?
She glanced at her mobile. Perhaps out of good manners she ought to at least telephone to enquire after her grandfather’s health. A little nervously Petra dialled the number of the family villa.
An unfamiliar male voice answered, throwing Petra into confusion. Hesitantly she asked for her aunt, and was asked for her own name. Several seconds later Petra breathed out in relief as she heard her aunt’s voice.
A little uncomfortably, asked after her grandfather.
‘He has had a good night,’ her aunt told her. ‘But he is still very weak. He insisted on going to morning prayers, although he was not supposed to do so. Unfortunately he had instructed his manservant to drive him there before I realised what was going on. I am so glad that you have rung, Petra. It will mean such a lot to him to know of your concern.’
The genuine warmth and approval in her voice was making Petra feel even more uncomfortable, and rather guilty as well, even though she tried to reassure herself that she had nothing to feel guilty about.
‘You are being wonderfully patient,’ her aunt continued. ‘I promise you it won’t be long now before you will be able to see him. I had intended to telephone you myself, to ask if you would like to go round the spice souq tomorrow morning, and then perhaps we could have lunch together?’
‘I… that sounds very nice,’ Petra accepted lamely. Feeling even more uncomfortable and guilty, she quickly ended the call.
She needed to see Blaize, she decided firmly, to make sure that he realised she was the one in charge of things and not him. He had said that he would make contact with her, but she was being driven by a sense of anxious urgency.
She wanted… needed to see Blaize now!
Half an hour later she stood on the beach, trying to cope with the frustration of explaining to the anxious to please lifeguard and the young man who was now in charge of the windsurfers what she wanted. But they didn’t seem to recognise Blaize from her description, Petra slowly forced herself to count to ten.
It wasn’t their fault that they didn’t know Blaize! The fault lay with her, not with them, for not making sure that she was able to get in touch with him. Thanking the two young men for their attempts to help her, she made her way back to her hotel.
It was lunchtime but she wasn’t really hungry; the emptiness inside her could not be satisfied with food! She had been infuriated by the way Blaize had tormented her about her virginity, and disturbed by her own physical reaction to him. Of course there was no way she had really wanted him to kiss her last night, but just supposing that he had.
Quickly Petra pressed the lift button, hoping that no one had noticed her flushed face or the fierce shudder that had gripped her body.
What on earth was the matter with her? Petra derided herself scornfully as the lift carried her smoothly and effortlessly upwards. She might be a virgin but that did not mean she was sexually repressed or unaware—so naïve and vulnerable that all it took to arouse her was one look from a predatory experienced male!
But if Blaize had kissed her… If he had then she would have had the common sense to reject him and send him packing, she assured herself firmly. Theirs was a business relationship and that was the way she intended it to stay!
The lift had stopped. She got out and made her way to her suite, holding
