the nerves and anxiety in her stomach dissolved and she felt like a child, free and unencumbered by the sizzling sexual tension that had characterised all her interactions with Zane Khan so far.
‘I can’t believe I made such a monumental tit of myself,’ she finally managed as the laughter slowed to a few intermittent chuckles.
‘Neither can I,’ he said, huffing out one more laugh.
He wiped his eyes with the corner of his robe. And a burst of euphoria rose up her torso. She had no idea why, but she had the strangest feeling Zane Khan didn’t laugh nearly often enough. Dignity and pride seemed a small price to pay for managing to demolish the austere facade—even if only for a few moments.
‘Here.’ He leaned towards her and she saw her sandals resting in his large palm. ‘You dropped these.’
‘Oh, thank you.’ They shared a few more errant chuckles as she plucked them out of his hand.
But as she absorbed the warmth of his touch that lingered on the soft leather, the last of her laughter trailed away, and a heavy sense of intimacy descended.
She could feel his gaze as she fumbled with the hem of her robe and her dress before slipping the footwear back on. She rearranged her skirts to cover her legs, unbearably aware of him once more.
‘I think I see what the problem is,’ he murmured.
‘The problem?’ she asked, making the mistake of glancing at him.
All traces of the boyish amusement were gone as his gaze roamed over her clothing.
‘The robes are designed to be worn with as little beneath them as possible.’ Was it her imagination or had his voice dropped several octaves? ‘Adding extra layers makes them more cumbersome and tends to inhibit the cooling effect.’
‘O-oh, I see,’ she stuttered.
The hot brick in her stomach plunged between her thighs and her nipples tightened as they made the rest of the drive through the desert in silence.
Ruining the cooling effect completely.
What the hell? I have an undiscovered toe fetish.
Zane absorbed the rocky, forbidding landscape as the car crested the rise and headed into the desert valley towards the Sheikh’s palace, far too aware of the woman sitting stiffly in the seat beside him—and the burn on his fingertips where his hand had connected with her ankle. The sight of her unpainted toes and bare feet as she’d slipped on her sandals hadn’t helped contain the surge of lust that had been tormenting him ever since she’d stepped out of her cabin.
His imagination had gone into overdrive as soon as she’d appeared, everything the ankle-length robe with its intricate beading disguised somehow even more erotic than her tomboy jeans and shapeless sweater of the day before.
He shifted in his seat as the palace came into view. He heard her sharp intake of breath. The enormous five-hundred-year-old structure with its domed turrets, lavish mosaic tiling, walled gardens and courtyards and intricately carved arched walkways was a truly magnificent example of Moorish architecture that would awe any new visitor. He had been awestruck himself sixteen years ago when he’d seen it for the first time as a confused teenager, using belligerence to hide his fear—only to discover that misery, not magic, lurked behind the golden walls.
He dispelled the unpleasant memories as the car approached the town of Zahari—which had sprawled around the walls of the palace for over three hundred years—and sailed through the marketplace. Traders and customers stood at a respectful distance, many of them bowing their heads or dropping to their knees as the car passed.
‘Is that customary? For your subjects to kneel before you?’ Catherine Smith’s soft voice yanked him back to the present and tugged at his groin in a way he had been trying to ignore ever since they’d left the plane.
He would have to get his reaction to this woman under control. It could only be a result of the sexual drought he’d suffered in recent years, ever since his father’s illness and death had required him to spend so much time in Narabia.
‘It is not required,’ he said, aware of the sharp tone when she flinched.
It wasn’t her fault she had an unpredictable effect on him and his sex-starved libido. Any more than it was her fault the delicate arch of her instep and those slim, straight toes had him obsessing about sucking and licking each one in turn, then slowly inching the layers of clothing up her slim curves to discover exactly what treasures lay between her toned thighs.
He shook his head, and attempted to focus on the haze that shimmered on the palace’s golden walls as the car drove through the gates and entered the forecourt.
Seducing Catherine Smith would be a foolish move, which could easily backfire. He had no intention of giving her more access to him than was strictly necessary. She’d already requested an interview, something he’d had to force himself not to refuse out of hand. And he did not like the way she’d looked at him a moment ago, as if she somehow knew it was a long time since he’d had cause to laugh so spontaneously. Part of her job here was to study the behaviour and customs of Narabia’s people, but he did not intend to let her study him.
The thought of the indulgent burst of laughter and what it might have revealed dampened the heat in his groin as the car drove through the grove of palm trees, around the fountain that adorned the entrance to the palace and glided to a stop by the steps leading up to the arched entrance to the main residence. Climbing out of the vehicle, he offered a hand to Catherine.
One glimpse of those damn toes though, and the blood surged right back into his pants.
She exited the vehicle with a great deal more grace than she had used getting into it. But the memory of her pert bottom outlined in silk failed to alleviate the heat swelling in his groin.
The silk covering her hair did nothing to disguise the riot of chestnut curls. He clenched his fists to quell the urge to plunge his fingers into the unruly locks. Having this woman in the palace for three long months was going to be more of an ordeal than he’d thought when he had offered her the commission.
She tilted her head to view the building. ‘It’s even more breathtaking than I expected.’
The breathy comment was artlessly erotic, skimming over his skin. The heavy weight of the sabres jostled his hip as he stood aside to let her precede him up the steps.
‘Your Excellency, welcome home,’ his major-domo greeted him. As efficient and imperturbable as always, Ravi didn’t even flick an eyelash at the sight of his companion, or the evidence that Zane had arrived back from a business meeting in the UK with an unknown female guest. Clapping his hands, Ravi barked out a series of orders in Narabi at the line of servants, who rushed forward to collect the luggage.
‘This is Dr Smith,’ Zane said. ‘She is an academic scholar and is going to be writing a book about Narabia’s customs and its cultural history. She will be staying in the women’s quarters.’
As far away from my toe fetish as possible.
‘Yes, Your Excellency,’ Ravi said before turning to Catherine and bowing. ‘Welcome to Narabia, Dr Smith.’ He held out his arm. ‘If you come this way, I will escort you to your quarters.’
‘I’ll
