moment to respond. In the heat of her disappointment she had forgotten Raffa’s promise to take her home. She had agreed to it before she had known he would remain coldly aloof whilst tempting his guests to empty their coffers in support of his good cause.
‘Thank you,’ she told the messenger politely. ‘Would you please tell His Majesty that I have unexpectedly developed a headache and that I’m going straight home?’
The other helpers were already filing out of the room, and the man was clearly uncomfortable with the message she had given him to carry back to Raffa, but it couldn’t be helped. There wasn’t a prison cell grim enough to frighten her into sucking up to His Majesty Rafik al Rafar bin Haktari of A’Qaban.
The moment she was alone Casey scooped up the hem of her dress and checked around the room one last time, to be sure she was the last to leave and that everything was neatly put back in its place. She had barely made it through the door before she sensed a storm approaching—and at the head of that storm was a man … She couldn’t run in her shoes. Bending down to take them off, she realised it would take too much time and, kicking one off, she had to hobble away as best she could—with the ruler of A’Qaban in full hunter mode striding after her.
CHAPTER TEN
SHE’D had it with fairytales. Snapping Raffa an angry glance, Casey continued on to the exit, where she threw the door open and stumbled out into the night, leaving one shoe behind her.
Raffa followed moments later. Flinging the door wide, he caught hold of her within seconds. This was not the elegant, restrained Sheikh of the ballroom, but a fierce man stripped back to nature.
‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ Thrusting her up against the wall, he held her still with the weight of his body.
She whipped her face away with a sound of contempt.
‘You’d better explain what’s going on, Casey. I announced your name on the platform, and everyone in the ballroom is waiting to congratulate you. How could you come so far and let the team down now?’
The team? She went hot and cold all over, not having realised the enormity of what she’d done. ‘I don’t want praise!’ she exclaimed, feeling angry and confused.
‘No, you’d rather make a fool out of me and your team, who are standing on the stage right now, waiting for you.’
‘I had no idea …’
‘This isn’t all about you, Casey.’
Her eyes filled at the accusation. ‘I never thought it was. I—’
‘So what did you think, Casey? That I was inviting you to share my bed tonight?’
She couldn’t have felt more humiliated, and Raffa held her in front of him where there was no escape from his gaze.
‘I thought as much,’ he said softly.
Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she turned away. Tears were threatening, and this was no time for a show of weakness; she had made herself look foolish enough as it was.
‘I informed everyone that you were temporarily overwhelmed.’ Raffa sounded distinctly unimpressed. ‘I also told them that you would be back with us shortly, and that you would join your team to accept my congratulations.’
That was not a suggestion, Casey gathered, meeting an iron stare. ‘You want to humiliate me,’ she whispered.
‘On the contrary,’ Raffa said coldly. ‘I want to thank you publicly for everything you and your team have done tonight.’
‘And you, Raffa? What have you done tonight?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You didn’t bid for anything. You didn’t bid one single penny for any of the items on offer.’
‘You should be flying high on your success at this moment,’ he said firmly, ‘and not worrying about what I did or didn’t do.’
‘I wish I could, but you’ve made it all seem pointless.’
‘Because I didn’t buy into your idea? Is that what you think?’ His dark eyes scanned her face. ‘Know this about me, Casey—I do what is right and not what is expected of me.’
‘And I should be content with that?’
‘You should trust me.’
‘I don’t know you, Raffa.’ Still suffering what felt like terminal heartache, she jerked away. And only succeeded in stumbling on the step.
But Raffa caught her.
And slowly drew her close.
‘I didn’t do a thing,’ he said.
‘I know …’ He was making a habit of that lately. She turned her face away, trying to remain immune to his persuasive warmth.
‘Let me look,’ he said, when she winced and tried not to put any weight on her shoeless foot.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Well, clearly you’re not. Let me see, habibi.’
How could he call her sweetheart in Arabic after everything that had happened? This just wasn’t fair. She stared at Raffa’s outstretched hand suspiciously.
Slowly and reluctantly, she came to him. With the utmost care he bent her knee and lifted her tiny foot to examine it. Fortunately the sharp stone she must have trodden on had done no damage, but he massaged the sole of her foot, where the redness was showing, to ease any remaining discomfort.
‘Better now?’ he murmured, looking up.
‘Better,’ she admitted softly.
She sighed involuntarily and looked flustered—torn between believing the worst of him and wanting to be wrong, he guessed. Meantime she was forced to hang on to his shoulders to keep her balance, and he could feel her slender fingers shift slightly—as if she was tempted to explore further, and only her lack of experience married to her pride prevented it.
Standing up, he sensed the mood change between them; she had softened slightly. ‘May I escort you back to the ballroom?’ he suggested. ‘But first you had better put this on.’ He handed her the discarded shoe.
She looked at it, and then at him. Any comparisons to Cinderella would cost him dearly, he suspected. She tipped her chin and firmed her jaw. ‘I’d better hurry,’ she said, all business now. ‘I’ve kept the team waiting long enough.’
He steadied her while she secured the strap on her shoe. He was proud of her, and proud of the team she had led, but there had to be easier women …
And he did easy now?
‘Ready?’ he said, calmly offering her his arm.
‘Yes, I’m ready now.’
He felt the weight of
