have a question for you,’ he said as they settled in the car.
She had to shake her mind free of the illusory promise of erotic instruction at his hands and focus carefully. He would be a master of the art. Raffa had that sort of promise in his eyes. Shake it off!
‘Yes?’
‘If you had to live in A’Qaban, Casey, could you?’
She gave him her honest thoughts. ‘I’d have to—at least until I was confident my side of the operation over here was running smoothly.’
‘But could you?’ he repeated.
She resisted the lure of Raffa’s firm, sensual lips, only to lock in combat with his stare. ‘I’ll live anywhere I must in order to give the most to my job.’
‘Wouldn’t your parents miss you?’
‘Of course they would, and I’d miss them dreadfully—but, as they quote Kahlil Gibran to me non-stop, I’m guessing they’d be a little bit pleased for me too.’
‘Khalil Gibran? The Lebanese-American author and philosopher?’ His dark eyes lit with remembered pleasure. ‘Do you remember the quote?’
‘Of course I do.’ She smiled. ‘“You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.”’
There was a moment of stillness and then Raffa nodded his head, reminding Casey that he’d been forced by tragedy to be both bow and arrow.
As he started the engine she noticed the scar on his face for the first time. It ran from just below his eye to the corner of his mouth, and must have been the result of a serious injury. She guessed it was a legacy of his time in the Special Forces, and wondered how hard that had been for Raffa, with no family to anchor him. He had hinted at some catastrophe in his youth, and she guessed it must have denied him the love she’d known.
She was gaining in confidence all the time, Casey realised, and a lot of that was due to Raffa. It was time to remind herself that he was a king, and that she was growing far too interested in him.
Too interested? She could so very easily fall in love with a man with whom she seemed to share many of the same goals, Casey realised with a jolt, as Raffa released the brake and turned the wheel in the direction of her hotel.
Having furnished her with an inventory of the items she would have to sell, Raffa left Casey at the door to her suite.
‘And I have how long to do this?’ she said, fingering the thick sheaf of paper.
‘Forty-eight hours.’
‘Forty-eight—’ She almost choked, but remembered it was crucial to remain positive and clear-headed if she was to have a chance of doing this. ‘Forty-eight hours,’ she repeated. Her thoughts might be tumbling over each other in disarray, but there could be no excuses.
‘Sorry—duty calls,’ Raffa said, fielding a call on his phone.
Duty would always call Raffa. She knew that.
‘I’m sorry to rush away,’ he said, touching her arm lightly and leaving an electric charge in his wake. ‘We’ll finish this later.’
‘No problem. Goodbye—’ But Raffa was already on his way.
Wanting to put the idea that had occurred to her earlier into a more formal structure, Casey decided to burn the midnight oil. Late that night, having taken a shower, she changed into pyjamas and called for pizza and coffee. While she was waiting for the food to arrive, she started making notes. She knew exactly how she was going to handle the auction. The plan she’d come up with would do exactly as Raffa had suggested and make the most of her strengths …
She was on her second cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. She remained where she was, hoping the invisible butler was still on duty, but the bell rang again. She reached distractedly for the intercom, her mind still half on her plan.
‘Raffa?’ Casey blenched. Raffa was not just in the building, he was at the door.
The space between the desk and the bathroom had never felt so far, but she had to grab a robe. Belting it tightly, she slipped her feet into slippers and with her heart thundering ten to the dozen ran back again to let him in.
How magnificent he looked in a tailored suit. Even with the earring and disreputable-looking stubble he was an imposing sight. And so was the team of businessmen and women standing in formation behind him.
Swinging the door shut with a gasp, she pulled it open just enough for him to hear her whisper, ‘Did you need something?’
‘May we come in?’
That was not a request, Casey gathered. ‘Could you give me a minute?’
‘Two minutes?’ Raffa suggested dryly.
She closed the door with barely a click. Two minutes to call room service, find clothes more suitable for a business meeting than her teddy bear print pyjamas, and summon the invisible butler from wherever he hung out. Shouldering the phone, she ordered juice, coffee, iced water and pastries. Scraping her hair back on her way to the bathroom, she secured it in the band she always wore round her wrist. Scrubbing her teeth, she gargled with mouthwash before tearing into the bedroom, where she tugged on her work clothes and forced a pair of shoes onto her feet more or less simultaneously.
‘Please come in,’ she invited two minutes later, hitting the deadline square on the nail.
He leafed through the notes Casey had prepared for him. Her handwriting was bad, but she had bullet-pointed everything, and her ideas leapt off the page. They were great.
‘This is good,’ he said briefly, before handing it around.
Casey’s ideas were unique and fresh, and he was glad he had passed responsibility for running the auction over to her. His only problem was with the large reception room they were using for this meeting. It was the same place he’d seen her half naked, and it was proving to be a real distraction. His position was clear, he reminded himself sternly. Casey was pure. He was not. She was under his protection.
Which wasn’t nearly enough to stop him wanting her.
The muted murmurs of Raffa’s team discussing her proposal provided a soothing soundtrack to Casey’s turbulent thoughts. Raffa watched his board members while she watched him. He glanced up once, and, seeing her looking at him, turned away. She knew her cheeks must be flushed, betraying her, but some-thing made her look at him again … and this time their gazes held. Was Raffa approving her or warning her?
Thankfully, her body quivered a warning, which was enough to make her excuse herself from the table. At precisely that moment the invisible butler chose to make a welcome appearance at the head of a team of waiters with their midnight feast.
‘Thank you—just put it down over here, would you, please?’ Casey murmured as the discussion of her proposals continued to gather momentum around the table. She’d return in a minute and add her own thoughts to the discussion, but in the meantime … Was she imagining Raffa’s gaze on her back? She tensed, every sense on high alert. She concentrated hard on showing the waiters where to put things. ‘Thank you,’
