was almost ready to collect them.
‘Cancel the car,’ Mikael said.
Cursing, he reloaded his briefcase and headed out to his car, making light work of the dark city streets. At the hotel he tossed his keys at the valet and made his way up to the twenty-fourth floor—only to meet Layla, stepping into the elevator as he came out.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘I am looking for my driver…’
Mikael tried not to notice how gorgeous she looked in a tight red dress, and he also tried not to recall how soft her feet were as he saw that she had managed to get the shoes in her size.
Then he looked at black eyes that were almost crossing as they tried to focus.
‘You’re drunk!’ Mikael accused.
‘Am I?’ Layla said, sounding very pleased with herself.
‘No way are you going out tonight,’ Mikael said, frogmarching her back to her suite.
‘You can’t stop me.’
‘I’ll call your brother, then,’ Mikael said. ‘Because I’m not going to police you.’
He pulled out his phone the second they got into her suite. There were glasses everywhere, and dresses and shoes; it was clear that Layla was seriously going all out for her week of fun.
‘You will not call Zahid!’ Layla roared. ‘I am an adult. I am capable of making my own decisions.’
‘Fine, then,’ he snapped. ‘But I’m warning you: it would be beyond foolish for you to go out in that state, but if you choose to then that’s up to you.’ He turned to leave and yet he couldn’t. ‘Where exactly are you planning to go tonight?’
‘I want to go to a club—to dance.’
‘With…?’ Mikael looked at her and tried to ignore her gorgeousness, tried to be cross. And yet he was tempted to laugh. What did she do to his head? ‘Have you got any money, Layla?’
‘No.’
‘Have you any idea of the trouble you could get into?’
She just looked at him, and suddenly it was very easy for Mikael to be cross—just not with her.
‘My current client isn’t the only bastard out there, Layla.’
‘Mikael…’
‘No, you need to hear this.’
‘Mikael, help me!’
He watched her beautiful face pale and her hand clutch her throat.
‘I think…’ Layla said. ‘I think that I’m…’
He got her to the bathroom just in time.
Never in his life had he done this, and never again would he do this, but Mikael stood holding her silky black hair as she knelt in the bathroom.
‘I should ring your brother, you know.’
‘I know,’ she said. Unseen by her, Mikael smiled as she continued, ‘But you won’t.’
Yes, he really should ring Zahid and have him come and collect her—but instead he ran her a bath as he thought about her brother.
Mikael had been worried—and with good reason. Zahid must be beside himself.
Mikael was not a sentimental person—not in the least—but surely a text to put him at ease could not cause any harm?
As he waited for the bath to fill Mikael fired a quick text.
Just to let you know, Layla is fine.
‘Have a bath and wash your hair, and then I suggest you get some sleep.’
‘Can you send someone in to wash me?’
‘Wash you?’
She had no idea how to do it herself.
‘I’ll tell you this much…’ He was breathing very hard as he massaged shampoo with rather angry fingers into her hair. He’d insisted she keep her underwear on—as if that would go down well with the defence! ‘You’re completely—’
He’d been about to say spoilt but he halted and thought about it as he rinsed the shampoo out of her hair.
She might be pampered, and way too used to getting her own way, yet Layla was the most unspoiled person he had ever met.
‘There,’ Mikael said. ‘Your hair’s clean.’
‘Jamila oils it now.’
‘There,’ Mikael said again, a little while later. ‘Your hair is washed and conditioned and now…’ he moved in to pull the plug and met her lovely feet again ‘…I’ll help you out of the bath. Then you’re to dry yourself and put on a robe.’
‘Okay.’ For once she agreed.
He helped her out and she made sure that Mikael too was soaking as she toppled against him.
‘I still feel a bit…’ She didn’t know how to describe it as he handed her a towel. ‘I think I like you,’ Layla said, and Mikael’s jaw gritted as she continued. ‘Not just like you…it feels a bit different to that…’ She turned as he walked out. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To do some work,’ he said. ‘Work that pays in dollars instead of stones.’
He was cross, Layla realised as he stalked out.
But lovely.
He didn’t even look up as she came out of the bathroom.
‘I know that I behaved badly tonight…it was just too enticing…’ She looked out at the lights that still beckoned.
‘You need to sleep,’ Mikael said, ‘and I need to work out what the hell I’m going to do with you.’
He didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her—but not in a bad way.
Mikael went to the couch and took out his laptop and got to work as Layla made her way to the bedroom.
‘The maids didn’t put out a nightdress.’
Mikael closed his eyes for a second before answering. She was the most exhausting person he had ever met. ‘Just sleep in your robe.’
‘But it’s damp.’ She came out from the bedroom. ‘If I sleep in damp clothes I’ll catch a cold.’
‘That’s an old wives’ tale.’
‘I don’t understand.’
