if it was the unexpected sound of his amusement or the velvet caress of his gaze but Leila felt an abrupt tumble of emotions.
Suddenly this marriage didn’t seem so simple. She’d spent so long fretting about escape, focused on getting through the marriage ceremony. Now it hit her that perhaps he had other ideas on what happened after the wedding.
Leila shivered.
For the first time she realised Joss Carmody might be dangerous in ways she’d never considered.
CHAPTER TWO
‘THERE’S BEEN A CHANGE of plan,’ Joss said as the limousine surged forward. ‘We’re going straight to the airport. I need to be in London.’
He turned to his bride, surprised to find her attention fixed on the back of their driver’s head. She didn’t acknowledge the wedding guests clustered to see them off. She didn’t even lift an arm to wave to her stepfather, standing at the ornate gates to the road.
With her gold-encrusted headscarf pulled forward, obscuring her profile, Joss only caught a glimpse of her straight, elegant nose.
‘Leila?’ He leaned forward. ‘Did you hear me?’
Her hands were clasped in her lap, the knuckles white.
What now? He didn’t have time for feminine games. He’d already given up a whole afternoon playing the attentive bridegroom.
‘Leila, look at me.’
The command did the trick and she turned instantly. Her eyes were a smoky grey, wide and unfocused. Her lips were flattened and her skin pale.
Impatience flared. What was the problem? Something he’d have to deal with no doubt when all he wanted was to get back to business.
He should have known marriage would complicate his plans! It had gone against every instinct to acquire a wife, though the business benefits had outweighed the negatives.
Yet with the impatience came an unfamiliar pinprick of concern. ‘What is it, Leila? Are you unwell?’
‘No.’ The single word was husky, as if issued from a dry mouth. ‘I’m never sick.’ Her lips moved in a shadow of a smile.
Joss remained silent. Something was definitely amiss. He told himself that so long as it didn’t affect him it didn’t matter. He wasn’t his wife’s keeper. But curiosity stirred. More, he acknowledged a faint but real desire to ease what he guessed was pain behind those beautiful blank features.
‘Would you like to stop the car?’ After the interminable wedding, he couldn’t believe he was offering to delay further. ‘We could go back inside and—’
‘No!’ Her voice was strident, her face no longer blank but animated at last.
‘No,’ she repeated, her voice softer. ‘That’s not necessary. Let’s just…go.’
Was it his imagination or was that a plea in her voice?
‘As you wish.’ He leaned forward and opened the limousine’s bar fridge. Ignoring the foil-topped bottle of Cristal and gold-rimmed champagne flutes some romantically inclined staffer had placed there, Joss reached for bottled water. Unscrewing the cap, he passed it to her.
She took it but didn’t make a move to drink. Was she waiting for a cut-crystal tumbler as well? He wouldn’t be surprised, given the pampered life she’d led.
‘Drink,’ he ordered. ‘Unless you’d prefer me to call a doctor?’
Instantly she raised the bottle and sipped. She paused and drank again, colour returning to her cheeks.
Now he thought about it, he couldn’t remember her drinking at the reception, except when he’d raised the goblet to her lips. Nor had she done more than peck at her food.
‘You need food.’ He reached for the gourmet snacks beside the bar.
‘No, please.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry. The water is fine.’
Joss’s eyes narrowed on the sharp angle of her jaw revealed as she tipped her head back. Her slim throat worked as she took a long pull from the water bottle.
‘I’m feeling much better now.’ This time she almost convinced him. Her voice was steadier, her gaze direct. ‘What were you saying about a change of plans?’
‘We’re not staying in Bakhara,’ he responded, watching her narrowly. ‘Something has come up. I need to be in London tonight.’
He could go alone. But he’d just acquired a hostess with impeccable breeding, social standing and poise who’d be a valuable asset in his new business dealings. He intended to make use of her.
Besides, he saw no point in sabotaging the polite fiction they were a couple. Leaving his bride on her wedding night would be inconvenient front-page news. If she was to be of use to him, it would be at his side.
‘London? That’s marvellous!’
Leila’s incandescent smile hit him hard. It wasn’t the polite, contained curve of the lips she’d treated him to before but a wide brilliant grin. It was like the one she’d turned on him when he’d arrived a few hours earlier.
Its impact set his pulse tumbling.
She wasn’t beautiful. She was stunning.
How had he not realised? He’d thought of her as coolly elegant. Now her sheer dazzling exuberance rocked him.
With colour flushing her cheeks and throat, her lips parted in pleasure and her eyes dancing, she beguiled in a way no blatantly sexy supermodel ever could.
An unfamiliar sensation stirred in his chest and Joss was stunned to realise it was his lungs struggling to pump oxygen. Perhaps whatever ailed Leila was catching. His reaction to her was unprecedented.
‘I’m glad you’re so excited about a trip to London.’ His voice was gruff.
Joss had never been overcome by attraction to a woman. It was the way he was made. An emotional wasteland, one mistress had accused in tears after he’d crushed her fanciful hopes of happily ever after.
He desired women. He enjoyed the pleasure they provided. But they never caused a ripple in his life.
As for emotions…he’d been cured of those in his youth.
Growing up in a dysfunctional family, learning early the destructive power of so-called ‘love’, Joss had never wanted anything like it again. No emotions. No entanglements. No dependants. His gut clenched at the very idea of kids and a clinging wife. Only a deal like this, based on sound business requirements and no emotional expectations, could convince him to marry.
Joss was a loner to the core.
‘You’ve spent time in London, I believe?’ He should know more about the woman who was to be his hostess.
She nodded, her smile barely abating. ‘I was born there.
