his head slightly at an angle ‘...exquisite.’
Unable to help herself, she let her gaze linger on his face before taking in the full impact of him dressed for dinner. The crisp whiteness of his shirt made his tanned skin more pronounced, the formal black tie suit fitted him to perfection, showcasing his strength perfectly. The Western clothes highlighted his rugged power, intensifying the rush of heat around her body.
When she looked back up at his face, he was smiling, a kind of sexy come-to-bed smile that made her heart crash inside her chest. It was like floundering at sea. She was truly out of her depth with Kazim.
‘Do I measure up?’ he teased and stepped back a pace, allowing for better scrutiny.
‘I think you know the answer to that,’ she said, aware and a little unnerved by the husky tone of her voice as she opted for bravado. ‘You know it only too well.’
Despite the fact that he’d just stepped away from her, a spark of fire leapt to life between them—the same heat that had been smouldering since he’d first said her name at the club. She held his look, desperately trying to hide how unsettled she was right now.
When he laughed it shocked her; it was such a deep, rich sound. Laughter lines creased at the sides of his eyes and he looked much younger. More like the man she’d lost her heart to in Barazbin—and much less troubled.
‘A very brave answer,’ he said as he held out his arm to her. She looked at him a moment longer before linking her arm with his, enjoying being made to feel special. It wouldn’t last long, of that she was sure. So why not make the most of it? He was, after all, the first and only man she’d given her heart to.
The sensation of walking on air had little to do with the fantastic dress and glamorous high heels she wore, but everything to do with the man on whose arm she was. Beside her, he carried himself with confidence and command. Every move he made transferred to her from the light touch of her arm in his.
As they waited for the lift her heart raced and, just as she wondered if she could go out to dinner with him, the lift doors opened. Other guests spilled out and he released her arm, standing aside then waiting for her to enter the lift.
She pressed her lips together in an effort to control the dizzying effect he was having on her and allowed her eyes to close for a moment. Would he keep up this charm offensive during dinner? She certainly hoped not; every glance, every lingering look, was chipping away at her defensive wall. He’d hurt her once. He could do it again. Whatever her reason for returning to Barazbin, she could never let him know how she still felt about him.
With this in mind, she held her head high as they exited the lift, her arm once more loosely wrapped in his. They made their way towards the dining room and she sensed a ripple of silence following them, as if everyone they passed stopped to look.
She glanced at his profile. The strength and pride there left her in no doubt that he was aware of the reaction his presence was causing, just as she’d told him only moments before. A gentle hush fell on the dining room as they entered; it seemed to last an eternity, but it must have only been seconds before the maître d’ came forward and showed them to their table.
The table, situated discreetly away from other diners, with candles, a single red rose, was set for two. It was beautifully romantic, but a table for lovers.
‘I thought you were meeting others.’ She could scarcely breathe the words out, horribly aware of the hitch in her voice.
‘I changed my plans.’ He dismissed the maître d’ and pulled her chair out for her, his smile more beguiling than she’d seen as he invited her to sit. His charm offensive was well and truly on show.
‘Why?’ she asked as she took her place, all too aware of him standing right behind her chair.
He rested his hands on her shoulders and, as he leant down to her, she looked up, suddenly finding her face close to his. So close she could see clearly into the inky blackness of his eyes before her attention was drawn to his mouth as he smiled.
‘It is time we got to know one another.’ Each word was heavy with intent. ‘Properly.’
‘But...’ she began before becoming too flustered to continue. Flustered as much by his nearness as the meaning in his words.
‘You are my wife, Amber, and tomorrow we will be in the presence of people important to me. It would look strange, would it not, if we knew nothing of one another?’
His smile held a hint of provocation behind the charm, but at least she knew he wasn’t entirely serious. He didn’t really want to get to know her; it was merely a device to stop others prying too closely. A trickle of relief defused the bewildered feeling he’d caused and she reminded herself of his harsh terms, the cruel bargain he’d driven.
As he sat opposite her, his back straight and regal, she allowed a smile to spread over her lips. ‘I’ll be your wife in public,’ she said so softly he had to lean forward to hear her. But, from the look on his face, he hadn’t missed her last words or the determination in them. ‘But not when we are alone.’
KAZIM HAD PONDERED Amber’s words as they returned to their suite. Was she really refusing to be his wife in every way? Everything they’d spoken of over the meal had been merely small talk, as if they were strangers passing the time of day. His intention had been to get to know her better, but instead she’d become more distant, more unobtainable.
Was she setting him a challenge? Or pushing him away?
‘You looked very beautiful tonight,’ he said as he closed the door of their suite a short while later. Would she slip further away from him now they were alone? ‘Very much like a princess.’
A little shocked, he admitted to himself that he didn’t want her to slip away, but maybe it was for the best. Because right now he wanted more—much more—just as he had on their wedding night. Instinct told him that to make love to her would be different from any other woman. It was not just the fact that she was his wife. It was the way he wanted her, not only with fiery blood in his veins but with something much deeper, unknown and new.
But what if the temper he’d inherited from his father surfaced as it had threatened to do on their wedding night when he’d thought of those rumours? What if behind closed doors he became the abusive bully his mother had had to put up with? He hated the fact that he looked like his father and he just couldn’t take the risk that he could also be like him in other ways.
Amber turned and looked at him and, despite being only a few strides from him, the distance seemed as endless as the dunes of a desert. ‘I felt like a princess.’ Her voice was hardly above a whisper, but her bronze eyes watched him anxiously and a vice-like grip clutched at his chest as vulnerability showed through her armour.
He moved closer, watching her. She stood and looked at him and he took a deep breath, forcing cooling control into his body. He wanted to reach for her, to kiss her lips, her face, her body. He wanted to claim her as his own and it was that very fact that held him back.
He’d already been far too hard on her. He had no right to claim even a kiss.
‘You are a princess,’ he stated emphatically, focusing his thoughts on other things. Just saying
