couldn’t drag her gaze away as Kazim looked at his watch, his jacket sleeve pulling up to reveal a tanned wrist, dusted with dark hair. Amber’s stomach fluttered and she practically had to force herself to think clearly. After all he’d done, all he’d said on their wedding day, she couldn’t believe he was still able to give her butterflies and make her head light.
She’d never wanted any man the way she wanted Kazim, and that had to change if she was going to be able to move on in life. But while Kazim still held her foolish heart she’d never be able to look at another man and feel this sizzle of hot desire.
‘Where does the child’s mother work? At this hour?’ He raised a brow at her and she wished he would step back, give her space to think, because having him so close was making that impossible right now. If she closed her eyes for just a moment, she was sure his musky aftershave alone would transport her back to the desert. A place she’d turned her back on for good.
‘At the club.’ Amber knew it was nearly time for Annie to come home and part of her wanted that to happen right now, but another, more rebellious, side wanted to keep that moment at bay for as long as possible. But if Annie did come home, at least then she could go somewhere else to talk with this man, somewhere bigger, a place that didn’t heighten his power and command so dramatically.
‘She is a stripper?’ His accent deepened and the hard angles of his face furrowed into a scowl as once more he jumped to conclusions.
‘They are dancers, Kazim; they dance, they don’t strip.’ She flew instantly to Annie’s defence, using the exact same words her manager had used as he’d tried to lure her to dance, insisting her pay would increase substantially.
‘So your little stunt on our wedding night was a dance?’ His voice had deepened and turned husky, making her stomach flutter uncontrollably as he reminded her once again of that night. He stepped closer, invading her mind, her body and her soul.
She looked up at him and saw that the black depths of his eyes had changed, swirling with something new, something undefinable. She was mesmerised, unable to think at all, stunned into silence.
‘Do you remember?’ he asked, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it as he lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. She became swallowed up by the fire she now saw there. ‘You danced then.’
This couldn’t be happening. She didn’t want it to happen; she couldn’t let it happen. What she needed was to be free of him and letting him touch her, letting him look into her eyes with such potent need, eroded every last bit of determination she had.
‘I did not dance or strip,’ she flung at him, infuriated by the way her body reacted to his touch. But at the same time she didn’t want him to stop. Attack, she decided, was the best form of defence. ‘I was doing what I thought was right, what I thought a man of your reputation would want.’
‘A man of my reputation?’ He said the words slowly and suspiciously, as if he couldn’t believe she was using such a thing against him.
‘I was sure an innocent woman was not what you were used to.’ She looked right into the depths of his eyes, boldly challenging him to deny what she said. ‘I was certain you wouldn’t have wanted me—a virgin bride—and I was right.’
She saw his face harden, saw his jaw clench. She was right—he hadn’t wanted her, an innocent bride, but neither had he wanted her when she’d hidden behind her attempt at seduction.
‘Or is it that I just didn’t fit into your world?’ She threw the question at him. ‘Is it because I have English blood in my veins?’
His silence spoke volumes, but she ploughed on, trying to ignore the intensity in his eyes.
‘My mother may be English but she has adopted the ways of the desert to the extent that she wanted our marriage as much as our fathers did.’
* * *
Kazim looked into Amber’s beautiful face, imagining how her soft skin would feel on his fingertips, and wondered how she could think that, let alone say it. For the entire duration of his wedding day he’d been consumed by need for his young bride; her innocence had been so beguiling. It was as if she’d cast a spell on him, but a spell he had no intention of slipping under. He didn’t dare.
He’d fought her magic so well that, by the time they were alone, he was once more the totally in control desert prince who took only what he needed. It wasn’t until she’d dropped her act of purity, throwing herself at him, flaunting her body so brazenly that he knew he couldn’t live a lie, and that the rumours of her time in boarding school must have been true.
What if he was like his father? Anger had surfaced, threatening to break out like a captured wild animal. Alarm bells had gone off. She’d already roused his passion with her dance and it had mixed potently with anger at her deception.
The marriage had been a mistake—one he was certain his father was well aware of and had forced him into, testing his loyalty to family and country. All he’d been able to think of was that he didn’t want to be responsible for breaking such spirit. He didn’t want to replicate what he’d witnessed as a young boy.
In a desperate attempt to make Amber see reason, Kazim’s words had been harsher than he’d intended. He had used her alluring dance and attempts to seduce him as an excuse. To make her believe that he was sending her back to her family because she wasn’t the meek and biddable bride he’d thought she had been.
Amber hadn’t shown any shock as he’d told her their duty was done, that she must return to her homeland. In fact she hadn’t shown any emotion at all, had shut him out. Had she been relieved she didn’t have to stay in Barazbin?
If he closed his eyes long enough, he could still picture her, seductively removing the silk that had clung so temptingly to her body, as if it was something she was used to doing. Didn’t her present job confirm that?
He’d been unable to move, unable to stop her, telling himself that her actions would help. They had both needed the marriage as much as the other and consummation wasn’t optional. But still he hadn’t been able to touch her, let alone make her his. He was the son of a cruel, hard sheikh and he had no intention of crushing her beautiful spirit as savagely as his mother’s had been. It was why he would never allow himself to love or be loved.
‘You most definitely danced,’ Kazim said, his voice deep and husky with the memory of that night, but not completely caught up in the moment. ‘Piece by piece, you removed the silk that covered your body.’
‘It was not a dance, Kazim, merely a necessary smokescreen. I tried to be something I wasn’t. I tried to tempt you.’ She looked up into his eyes, her almond-shaped ones searching his, and he had the urge to touch her face, feel her skin beneath his fingertips. ‘But you made it clear that the idea of such an act repulsed you.’
‘Repulsed me?’ He lowered his hand before temptation got the better of him, and looked into her eyes. How on earth could she think that? Hanging onto his control that night had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but necessary. He’d wanted her so much but was stunned to realise the palace gossips had been right. A virgin bride would never know how to act so enticingly. ‘I never expected such a show of...knowledge.’
‘I made one mistake, Kazim, and because of that you didn’t want me. You just wanted me for who I was, for the benefits to your kingdom the marriage brought.’ Her eyes held an accusing light as she narrowed
