her leave.
Beg her to stay.
Kiss her again. This time make it last forever.
Just as he lifted a hand to slide it behind her head and draw her back to him, Sarange stalked out of the room.
Sarange didn’t know what she was feeling. So many emotions were competing for dominance inside her she couldn’t begin to single out or categorize any individual one. Generally, her temperament was even. She didn’t have mood swings. Yet after one brief encounter with Khan, her senses were swaying like a barometer needle in changing weather.
It was a relief to reach her dressing room without encountering anyone who wanted to talk to her. As the concert had approached, the demands on her time had increased. In the past few weeks, she had barely had a minute to call her own. Tonight had been a whirlwind of questions, requests and suggestions, all of which appeared to require her personal intervention.
Sarange had endless patience. It was part of her makeup. Her birth parents, whoever they were, must have bequeathed it to her with their genes. But right now she didn’t want to cope with someone else’s problems. Even for the sake of Animals Alive, the organization that had been her life’s work for so long. The thought caused her a pang of guilt, and she managed to quell it. Just for once, she was going to put duty aside. She was going to spend a little time alone analyzing what had just happened to her.
How had she managed to let the most arrogant, infuriating man she had ever met get to her? And by “get to me” I mean turn me on so much I almost burst into flames. Just the thought of how Khan made her feel had her breath catching in her throat and a renewed thrill of desire pulsing through her body.
What is wrong with me? She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, releasing a long sigh. Despite his devastating looks, Khan was not her type. She didn’t like overtly dominant men. Sarange had no desire to settle down. Now and then, she speculated about the reason. Did she have abandonment issues linked to her strange past? By ensuring she was the stronger partner in any relationship, was she making sure she couldn’t be hurt? Although it made a strange kind of sense, she didn’t feel it was a valid explanation for her choices. Perhaps she was just cold-hearted? It wasn’t something that affected her strongly enough to probe deeply.
Now she thought about it, her brief relationships had all been with men who conformed to a certain category. Undemanding was the first word that came to mind. Did she deliberately choose partners who wouldn’t challenge her? It wasn’t a question she had considered until now, and she didn’t like it. Didn’t want to start psychoanalyzing herself just because Khan had strutted onto her horizon. So what if, up to now, I’ve chosen sweet, considerate guys? The sort any woman would have no problem taking home to meet Mom and Dad?
Not that Sarange had a mom and dad. She had an uncle and aunt who did the same job. She tried to picture taking Khan home to meet Bek and Gerel Tsedev. The thought made her choke back a laugh. It was never going to happen, but the image was amusing.
It wasn’t just his arrogance that triggered a warning about Khan. It was the way he stripped away her control, and did it with such relish. Wolf girl. That was what he had called her. What had he meant by it? One thing was for sure, it wasn’t a compliment. The tone of his voice had been scathing, while the look in his eyes had scalded her. She assumed he meant she liked to be in charge. He had judged her on first impressions, likening her to the leader of a pack. It was a curious analogy, but their encounter had hardly been conventional. If she hadn’t walked out when she did, heaven alone knew what would have happened next. She had a feeling it would have led to passion beyond her wildest imagination followed by a world of regret.
Hadn’t she been equally guilty of basing her opinion of Khan on sensational reporting and the antagonistic, thrilling clash from which she had just walked away? She pushed herself off from the door and made her way to the refrigerator. Snagging a bottle of water, she drained half its contents in a few quick gulps.
This violent attraction she felt toward Khan, this uncertainty and angst about her feelings, the burning restlessness that made her want to turn right back around and finish what they’d started...it was all new to her. New and frightening. She didn’t like feeling this way. Sarange’s life was neat and tidy. She liked it best when everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing and no one deviated from the script. This felt wild and unrehearsed. Khan had thrown her so far out of her routine she couldn’t see a way back. And the scary thing was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Her whole body was still trembling with a combination of excitement and outrage. Curiously, she felt as though the electricity coursing through her veins was there to stay. How could that be so? The answer was simple. It couldn’t. Put a little distance between her and Khan and she could forget him, get back to normal. It wasn’t as if he could have any sort of lasting effect on her life. Was it?
A knock on the door startled her into spilling water down the front of her dress. Instantly, she wondered if it was Khan, and her feelings went to war over the possibility. Excitement trilled through her at the thought of opening the door and seeing him again. At the same time, anger flooded through her. There could be only one reason why he would follow her. He must be confident she would fall into his arms again.
And won’t you? She hated this. Hated the way her body was pulling her in two different directions. Because she had no idea what she would do if she opened that door and Khan was standing on the other side of it. There was a strong possibility she would launch herself at him, but whether the outcome was a kiss or a punch remained to be seen.
With a hand that shook slightly, she turned the handle and opened the door. Her initial reaction told her everything she needed to know about her feelings. The man who stood there was most definitely not Khan. Shorter, slighter, with dark hair and sharp features, his smile oozing charm. It wasn’t his fault Sarange wanted to slam the door in his face because he wasn’t the person she longed to see. Her heart gave an uncomfortable downward lurch. She had a wretched feeling it was a signal. A warning that no one else would ever be good enough. From now on, the only person she would open a door to with a willing smile would be Khan.
This was straying into the realms of the absurd. This man, whoever he was, had begun to regard her with a slightly bemused expression. “Your manager said this would be okay. I’m Gurban Radin, owner of Real Planet Productions. We spoke on the phone last week.”
Forcing herself to concentrate, she dredged up a memory of the conversation. “Of course.” She held out her hand and he shook it enthusiastically. “Come in, Mr. Radin.”
“Just Radin, please.” He stepped into the dressing room. “I wanted to stop by and congratulate you on the success of tonight’s concert. After what I’ve just seen, I’m even more keen for us to work together on the project we discussed.”
Sarange nodded. “I’m looking forward to making the documentary with your company. Obviously, returning to my home country of Mongolia will be exciting for me. Even more important than that will be the focus on the plight of the blue wolves. They are one of the most endangered species on the planet.”
Radin paced the small room excitedly. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it...if you’ve had time to check yet?” He held up his cell phone. “But the response to your duet with Khan has been phenomenal. Social media is going wild. The electricity between the two of you was incredible.”
“We are performers. That’s what we do.” Sarange hoped her voice didn’t sound too
