chair for the takeoff. If Tajik was busy in the cockpit, rather than here in the lounge, then maybe this flight wouldn’t be the ordeal she’d imagined. And, given he’d left her with not a word, maybe she’d read too much into that moment on the stairs.
As maybe she’d read far too much into that kiss.
Yes, he was attractive and charismatic, and he had a way of looking at her that made her heart lurch to a standstill, but he was the ruler of an independent Arab country. Way beyond anything in her experience. Way out of her league.
He’d be well used to escorting the world’s most beautiful women to the world’s most beautiful places. And no doubt he was equally at home making love to them. In which case that stolen kiss last night in a dimly lit gateway probably didn’t even register with him. Beyond making a point of how morally suspect she was, of course.
But then why had he told her that he kept thinking about it too? Unless he was reminding her of how easy she’d seemed?
Morgan squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was only yesterday she’d first met Sheikh Tajik. And it was only yesterday she’d learned of her sudden trip to Jamalbad. No wonder her nerves were frayed. She needed to unwind and get things back into perspective. She might as well enjoy the flight, and then, once back in Jamalbad, he’d be busy ruling his sheikhdom, or whatever it was that sheikhs did, while she’d no doubt be ensconced in the women’s quarters with Nobilah. She’d probably hardly ever see him.
Which suited her just fine.
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