You were on the rowing team together, too, weren’t you? I seem to remember hearing Eli talk about pre-dawn practices on the river.”
He smiled. “Strange interest for someone from a desert country, hmm?”
“A little.” She examined him. “Tell me about Diyafa.”
“Ah, Eli has told you about my country?”
“Just the name. Diyafa.” It rolled off her tongue. “It sounds so deliciously exotic.”
“It is. The desert nights are warm and dry and the heavens above possess the brightest stars I have ever seen.”
The whisper of his voice stoked her imagination. “How magical. I hate to confess this—but I’ve never been out of the United States.”
“Never?”
She shook her head. “Never. I always intended to travel.”
Item No. 6 on the List involved traveling to some far-flung exotic destination. She’d had a fleeting vision of herself standing in the center of St. Mark’s Square in Venice or in front of the Sphinx in Egypt. Somewhere as different from Charleston as she could get.
She pulled a face. “Now I just have to turn that dream into reality. I even got myself a passport.” Which she’d been carrying around in her purse, together with the List—and the letter from her father she’d received on that emotionally charged day when her father’s will was read.
“Diyafa is a good place to visit.”
Did he think she was trying to coax an invitation from him? Discomfort flooded her. “Oh, I couldn’t take advantage of our acquaintance.”
“Why not?”
Her lashes fluttered down. “We hardly know one another.”
“I’m sure we can remedy that.” He sounded amused.
Laurel’s lashes lifted. Heavens, was she actually flirting with the man?
Then she examined her reaction.
So what?
Flirt with a stranger. It was on her list, and she was unlikely to ever encounter Rakin again. He might be Eli’s other best friend, but before today she’d only ever heard about him. It would be at least another ten years before they met again; after all he was a busy man. Worth the risk?
Or was she going to chicken out? No. The time to act had arrived. Pursing her mouth into a moue, she gave what she hoped looked like a mysterious smile. “Maybe I will visit … one day.”
An arrested expression settled in his eyes.
“You can let me know when you do.” There was an intimate note in his voice.
He was flirting too!
Rakin was clearly a master at the art of flirtation. For once she was tempted to let herself go. To revel in the full power of her womanhood. This was a man she was facing, a real man with a wealth of experience with women.
“To be honest I’m more likely to visit Las Vegas—” she began with a teasing laugh.
“You like to gamble?”
Had his voice dropped? Laurel’s heart beat a little faster. “I’ve never gambled seriously in my life. Certainly not in a casino.”
Her mother didn’t approve of gambling. A roguish uncle, the black sheep of the Winthrop family, had lost a fortune at poker, contributing to the dire straits the family found itself in before her mother’s marriage into the Kincaid fortune. Gambling was seriously discouraged among the Kincaid children. No doubt that was why Gamble all night had made it onto the List….
“We’ll have to change that—raise the stakes.”
Yes, he was definitely flirting. If the intimate note in his voice hadn’t made it clear, the gleam in his eyes confirmed it. Laurel gave herself up to the heady rush. “I wouldn’t want to become addicted.”
“That can only happen if the stakes are higher than you can afford.”
“I’ll remember that.” She peeked at him through her lashes. “If I ever find myself in Vegas.”
The song came to an end. She was hot and thirsty, yet Laurel found she didn’t want the exchange to end. It was exhilarating. Fun. Yet risky. More than she’d ever banked on when she’d scrawled Flirt with a stranger on her list. The weight of Rakin’s hand resting on her waist, the touch of his fingers against hers, the way his body had brushed against hers to the rhythm of the music was stealing over her senses.
“It’s warm in here,” she said, finally letting go of his hand and fanning her face. “I need a drink.”
“There’s a cool breeze outside,” Rakin responded readily, his hand sliding from where it rested at her waist to beneath her elbow. As they skirted the dance floor he picked up two brimming tulip glasses from a passing waiter with his free hand, before leading her to the open doors.
Laurel hesitated on the threshold. Outside, the balcony appeared to be deserted.
Her heart leapt as his hand touched the sensitive skin under her elbow. Rakin’s voice was deep and smooth as he said, “Come. It will be quiet and cool.”
And she couldn’t help wondering if she’d let herself in for more than she could handle as she stepped out into the Southern night.
There was a slight breeze and the balmy night air was redolent with the sweet scent of magnolia and jasmine.
Rakin led Laurel to the shadows at the end of balcony where the sultry throb of the jazz band was fainter. Under the glow cast by a wall sconce, he handed one of the long-stemmed glasses to Laurel, then leant back against the wide balustrade. She tipped the glass up to take a slow sip, and her gaze tangled with his over the rim.
Something—lust?—locked fast in the base of his stomach.
With her tall, slender figure wrapped in a column of moonlight silk, her magnolia skin, sparkling eyes and the crowning glory of her dark red hair, Laurel Kincaid was a very beautiful woman. Any man would be aroused by having the full wattage of her attention switched on to him. And, to his chagrin, Rakin discovered he was no exception.
But he was interested in far more than the surge of attraction between them. Holding her gaze, he drank from his glass, savoring the dry bubbles against his tongue. Despite the millions he’d added to the Al-Abdellah fortune, his grandfather was threatening to toss him out of the family business if he didn’t marry soon. So far, Rakin had resisted—love was not on his agenda. But the battle of wills being fought between himself and Prince Ahmeer Al-Abdellah had now erupted into open war. Marriage to the right woman might be the lesser of two evils. Eli’s not-so-joking suggestion that Laurel might be the perfect bride to get Rakin’s grandfather off his back was worth serious consideration.
And love would not be a factor …
One look at Laurel and his wily grandfather would ask no further questions. What man in his
