But curiosity, always her curse, got the better of her. “How would you know that?”
“Because I requested it. I believe you once mentioned it was your favorite.”
“I see.” Ridiculously, she felt a stab of disappointment. In the past two months everything had changed: her father was gone; her position as court hostess was coming to an end; her entire future was uncertain. Now here was Kaj al bin Russard, apparently deciding to join her band of admirers. Though she hadn’t liked him before, he’d at least been unique. “How resourceful of you,” she said coolly. “Unfortunately, my favorite has changed.”
“Then this will give you a chance to tell me what has supplanted it.” Without warning he reached out and clasped her right wrist with his long fingers.
His touch gave her a jolt, and for a moment she felt anchored in place by the sheer unexpectedness of it. Then she instinctively tried to pull away, only to find that though he was careful not to hurt her, his grip was as unyielding as a steel manacle.
Her temper flared at the same time her stomach fluttered with unexpected excitement. “Let go of me,” she ordered tersely, mindful of the interested stares suddenly directed their way.
“Oh, I think not.” Matching her clipped tone, he stepped to her side, planted his hand in the small of her back and propelled her toward the dance floor. “It would be a shame to waste such enchanting music. Plus it just so happens—” he swung her around to face him, waited a beat as the orchestra launched into the waltz, then pulled her close and led off “—I’m curious to see how you’ll feel in my arms.”
Catherine couldn’t believe it. Speechless, she stared up at him. She was shocked at having her wishes ignored, shocked by his statement—and more shocked still by the startling discovery that his hand felt deliciously warm against her cool, bare back.
She shivered as his fingers slid lower, unable to stanch her reaction. Only the sight of the faint smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth saved her from making a complete fool of herself by whimpering or doing something else equally mortifying. “How dare you!” she managed instead, finally finding her voice.
“How dare I not, princess.” Never missing a beat, he guided her deeper into the phalanx of whirling dancers. “I could never forgive myself if I let the most beautiful woman in the room remain all alone during her former favorite waltz.”
His outrageous flattery, coupled with the realization that he’d noticed her solitary state, brought her chin up. “Is there some reason you’re toying with me?” she asked abruptly.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered for an endless second. When he finally raised his eyes, they had a lazy, knowing quality that caused an unexpected clenching in the pit of her stomach. “You really must pay more attention. Toying is hardly my style.”
“Just what do you hope to gain from this?” She managed to keep her voice steady, but just barely.
“Surely it’s obvious. The pleasure of your company.”
“And you believe this is the best way to attain it?”
One black eyebrow rose in question. “Isn’t it?”
“No,” she said flatly. “I don’t like being commandeered.”
“Ah.” His expression lightened. “Does it happen often?”
“Of course not!”
He shrugged, and she felt the steely strength of his body beneath her fingertips. “How unfortunate. Perhaps you simply need to give yourself over to the experience. You might find you enjoy it.”
Oh, what nerve! She opened her mouth to reply, then stubbornly shut it again. She would not let him provoke her into causing a scene. She would not. Besides, it was time he realized he didn’t get to have everything his way. Pursing her lips, she deliberately shifted her gaze to the weave of his impeccably tailored jacket and tried to pretend the rest of him didn’t exist.
To her surprise, rather than making another outrageous comment, he actually fell silent. At first she was grateful…until it dawned on her that with the cessation of conversation between them, she was growing increasingly conscious of other things.
Like the hardness of the thigh brushing hers. And the size of the hand now pressed firmly to the base of her spine. Then there was his scent, all dark starry nights and cool desert breezes. Not to mention the warmth that radiated seductively from his powerful body.
Suddenly, she felt…funny. Hot, cold, short of breath and shivery. Alarmed, she tried to pull away, but it was not to be. Instead of letting her go, the sheikh gathered her even closer.
“Princess?”
She felt his heartbeat against her breast, and the funny feeling grew worse. “What?”
“Relax. You’re far too lovely to be so unyielding. And far too intelligent not to accept that sometimes the best things in life are those we initially resist.”
It was too much. She jerked her head up to stare at him. “I suppose you include yourself in the category of ‘best things’?”
He smiled. “Since you see fit to mention it, yes.”
“Oh, my. And here I’ve always believed conceit wasn’t a virtue but a vice.”
He made a tsking sound. “Such a sharp tongue, little one. But then, the past weeks can’t have been easy. Tell me, does it bother you that much to be passed over as Altaria’s ruler?”
Well, really! “Of course not. I’ve known all my life that women are excluded from inheriting the throne. What’s more, Daniel will be an excellent king. He has a very American sense of responsibility and a fresh way of thinking that should be good for the country.”
To her surprise, he actually appeared to consider her words. “I agree.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ve had occasion to do business with the Connelly Corporation in the past, and found your cousin to be a very resourceful man. Still, it’s not Daniel who concerns me, but you. It’s never easy to lose a parent. Even a disappointing one.”
Wonderful. And just when she thought he might have some redeeming qualities after all. “That’s hardly any of your business.” Particularly in light of the second part of the Connelly investigator’s report, which had revealed that her father died owing considerable amounts of money due to extensive gambling. The now familiar shame pressed her, but she thrust it away. She had no intention of discussing her father’s shortcomings with the sheikh, never mind her failures as a daughter.
He didn’t seem to notice the chill in her voice, however. “My own father passed away some seven months ago. I was never the son he wanted, just as he was never the father I needed. Yet it was still hard to lose him.”
“Oh.” Suddenly confused, she set her own concerns aside, wondering again if she’d misjudged him—and why he would say something so revealing. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Typically, he’s managed to complicate my life even now.”
“In what way?”
“It
