Читать книгу Australia: In Bed with a Sheikh! - Emma Darcy - Страница 16

TAREQ ROAMED AROUND the sitting room of their hotel suite, pondering the situation as he waited for Sarah to finish dressing and emerge from her bedroom. This diplomatic visit to Washington had been scheduled long before he’d gone to Australia. Cancelling was out of the question. Sarah had to understand that Washington was an entirely different playground to Florida. Here, a united front had to be presented, regardless of what she felt towards him.

This dinner tonight marked the start of their public appearances and comment would flow from them. Sarah had to be brought into line with what needed to be projected…therein presenting Tareq with a tricky challenge since she had a mind of her own which was still set against him. Nevertheless, word of their togetherness would be relayed to his uncle and mixed messages would not put an effective block on the canny old man’s political manoeuvrings.

It would have been so much simpler if they’d become lovers by now. Then staying at the embassy, which was his usual practice, would have established the relationship in the eyes of the staff, thereby making it very quickly known. As it was, taking up residence in the Oval Suite at the Willard-Continental was almost as good. It implied a desire for privacy in which to enjoy a new intimacy. Though he was fast coming to the conclusion there might never be physical intimacy with Sarah.

He’d really muddied his slate over that stupid business at Silver Springs. Letting Dionne Van Housen play with a flirtation had served as a distraction from his frustration, but it had cost him dearly, turning him into a lesser man in Sarah’s eyes. An unlikeable man. And while he admired her high standards of integrity, they drew a line he found he couldn’t cross. Not with an easy conscience.

Tareq shook his head self-mockingly. It was crazy, trying to live up to what she wanted him to be, yet he was doing it as best he could. The funny part was, it gave him a real buzz to win a smile from her, to feel warmth seeping past her guard. He liked being with her even if it was only company and conversation. He liked the purity of her thinking, the directness of her honesty. In that way, she was still the child he’d remembered.

Which put him into even more conflict.

The urge to look after her quarrelled with the constant desire to reach out and take her, make her his for as long as it worked for them. Yet as much as he told himself he’d be good for her, he couldn’t quite dismiss the possibility he might end up hurting her. Badly. And hurting Sarah would be like hurting a child.

Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.

If she equated sex with a promise of love…a promise of commitment…

He couldn’t lie to her.

Which left what…being honourable?

Tareq was grimacing at this unpalatable line of logic when Sarah made her entrance to the sitting room. Her appearance brought his pacing to an abrupt halt. It blotted out everything else on his mind. It shot a bolt of fire to his loins. It flipped his heart.

She looked utterly, stunningly beautiful, a picture of style and elegance, and so gut-wrenchingly sexy Tareq didn’t trust himself to move. One step towards her and he’d be hauling her off to bed like a caveman.

“Will I do?” she asked, slowly pirouetting to give him the full effect of her outfit.

A long tunic made of some soft, clinging fabric moulded every line and curve of her figure like a second skin. The high round neckline and long sleeves accentuated the effect of a total body covering stretched around her flesh to faithfully outline her femininity. It was overwhelmingly sensual yet undeniably modest. Youthful.

The green floral pattern on a background of pure white had the fresh appeal of spring, and this was highlighted by a single white silk flower, perched on one shoulder, close to the curve of her throat. No jewellery to diminish the effect.

The tunic was slit on both sides to mid-thigh, and she wore long white satin trousers underneath it, giving an Eastern flavour to the outfit, making it even more alluring.

“Well?” she prompted, her eyes uncertain, seeking approval.

Her vulnerability pierced his heart. His plans—everything he’d thought in coming to some solution that would suit him—suddenly seemed terribly wrong. There was no clear course except…to protect her. Even from himself.

He took a deep breath, banking down the fire within. She was waiting for an answer. He should let her go…out of his too complicated life…yet deep inside him screamed a need to keep her with him.

“Perfect!” he declared—a perfect torment of seductive innocence.

“I know it’s right for me,” she said artlessly. “I loved it from the moment I tried it on when I went shopping in Naples. But is it right for tonight?”

She would stand out like a spring flower amongst hothouse roses, Tareq thought, and the imagery instantly inspired the only course for him to take…if he was to keep her in his life…a bit longer anyway…long enough to make sense of everything.

“Perfect!” he repeated, smiling reassurance as he walked towards her. “You look so very lovely, I consider it an honour to be escorting you tonight.”

She flushed at the compliment, pleasure warming her eyes.

He lifted one of her hands to his lips and bestowed a soft kiss of homage. Gallantry was not dead. Tareq had just resurrected it.