Читать книгу Mills & Boon Modern Romance Collection: February 2015 - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 35

CHAPTER NINE

SHE WAS KILLING HIM.

Hour by hour she drove him quietly insane.

Asim frowned as he strode from the stables. His ride hadn’t cleared his head. It was filled with Jacqueline. Her sighs as she snuggled up to him in bed; the look of exhilaration when he told her how beautiful she was.

The spark of devilment in her eyes when she occasionally convinced him to let her take the lead in sex. He tightened as heat flashed through him. Remembering her hands on him, her mouth—hot and sultry and a little clumsy—brought him to fever pitch all over again.

He’d wondered that first night if she was a virgin, but she’d been adamant and he’d let himself be persuaded. Now he was convinced he’d been right. Jacqueline was passionate and eager but definitely inexperienced.

Or she had been.

Asim’s jaw clenched. At least that had relieved his earlier discomfort that he might be poaching on his cousin’s territory. Imran really had been just a friend. But now there was guilt that he’d seduced a virgin. A decent man would have pulled back straight away, respecting her innocence. But with Jacqueline Asim feared he had no control.

She was a houri, an enchantress.

She was disrupting his well-ordered life.

Was he mad, having an affair with a journalist? Logic should say yes but instinctively he trusted her.

He grimaced and entered the palace, nodding to a guard.

Sleep he could do without. He preferred to spend the midnight hours exploring Jacqueline’s insatiable appetite for passion. She interfered with his work too. Those daily briefings on her research became long interludes that left him smiling and sated yet still hungry for her.

Worse, she interrupted his thoughts. Yesterday during another round of trade negotiations he’d found himself recalling her pithy assessment of one foreign diplomat. On impulse he’d changed his carefully laid approach to test what she’d suggested was a weakness in the foreign position. And the hunch had paid off! She’d been correct.

He should thank her; she’d saved him time and effort. Yet that crossover from lover to advisor niggled.

Asim kept his women separate from his public life.

That would change a little when he had a wife, of course. His wife would be intelligent and experienced enough to deal with diplomats, royalty and all manner of VIPs. But in the meantime it disturbed him that he found himself thinking about Jacqueline so often.

That was another thing. She stymied his search for a bride. How could he devote himself to that important task when the passion between them flared so hot? Obviously it would dim with time, passion always did, but in the meantime he owed it to himself, and his country to choose an appropriate wife. Yet lately the few he’d seen hadn’t come close to arousing interest.

One had been superficially suitable: engaging, intelligent and well-bred. But he’d felt no spark of attraction. How could he spend his life with a woman if he wasn’t interested enough to bed her?

Another candidate he’d mentally dismissed as too short. Too short! Just because he relished the fact that when he kissed Jacqueline he didn’t have to fold himself in half to reach her lips. Plus the feel of her long, slim legs locked around his waist was currently one of his greatest pleasures.

Asim grunted in self-disgust. At thirty-five he needed to find a suitable wife and start a family, securing the throne for the future. He couldn’t afford to fixate on a woman as his father had done with his mother. Their passion had been unhealthily intense, turning into a sick relationship that had damaged all the family.

Starting today, Asim would do what he should have been doing: focus on his search for the perfect queen.

* * *

‘I’m so glad my grandmother finally brought you to visit.’

Jacqui watched her companion twirl her long sable hair. It was a nervous gesture Princess Samira had repeated several times since Jacqui had arrived.

The princess was a beauty. The harsh, extravagantly male cast of Asim’s aristocratic features were, in his younger sister, softened. They had the same hooded eyes, though in his sister’s case they were a rich sherry colour. Her mouth was lush, not thin, and her jaw, though determined, wasn’t uncompromisingly hard.

Yet despite her beauty there were shadows under her eyes and she had a lustreless quality as if weighed down by unimaginable woes.

‘I’m honoured you invited me.’ And intrigued that Lady Rania had left them alone after half an hour.

Jacqui’s chest squeezed in sympathy as the princess fumbled the traditional coffee pot she’d been tending, her hand unsteady. She looked tired and fragile but her minuscule frown as she concentrated on pouring the honeyed coffee into tiny cups reminded Jacqui of Asim.

But everything reminded her of Asim. He was in her thoughts constantly. She spent the night flush against his big, naked body, and even when she dreamed it was of him, not the horror that had haunted her for months.

‘Thank you, Your Highness.’ Jacqui accepted a steaming, fragrant cup.

‘Please, call me Samira.’ The other woman smiled and Jacqui caught her breath at the impact a little animation had on her face. More than beautiful, she was stunning. No wonder the press was avaricious for photos. That face would sell millions of magazines.

It took a moment to realise the other woman’s smile had faded.

‘I’d be honoured.’ Jacqui was surprised at the unlooked for offer. ‘Thank you, Samira. And I’m Jacqui.’

‘Not Jacqueline, as my brother calls you?’

Jacqui froze, the cup halfway to her lips. ‘He talks about me?’ Intimate as they were, she hadn’t expected him to discuss her with his sister.

A mischievous smile tugged Samira’s mouth. ‘More than I suspect he realises. But my grandmother and I don’t tell him.’ She lifted her cup to her lips. ‘Now I’ve begun to know you a little, I understand why.’

Jacqui wondered what sort of back-handed compliment that was. Except the princess struck her as genuine and friendly. And they had something in common: Asim.

Why did everything come back to him?

It was because he’d taken over her world, turning it from dark grey to glowing brightness.

He’d made her happier than she’d dared hope.

And he made her feel special. So special it scared her, made her worry this couldn’t be real. She’d never felt such closeness, even with her family. Was she imagining he cared for her because she wanted it to be true? Was she extra needy because of the stress she’d gone through?

‘Tell me more about your project, Jacqui. I was too...unwell to attend the sessions with my grandmother and her friends. But I’d like to hear more.’

An hour later they were on their second coffees and the conversation had veered through traditional Jazeeri dresses to the silvery grey designer original Jacqui had worn at the formal dinner.

‘You mean you designed it?’ She leaned forward, admiring the portfolio Samira had produced. There were sketches, fabric swatches and photos of finished dresses. All were stunning, ultra-feminine in an unfussy, eye-catching style that instantly appealed.

‘Grandmother wanted to give you a gift.’ Samira smiled. ‘She is so excited about your book and the sensitive way you’re approaching it. She wasn’t sure you had something suitable for Asim’s formal dinner.’

‘I don’t. Didn’t.’ Jacqui shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe you designed that amazing dress. And these. They’re gorgeous.’

Samira shrugged. ‘It’s a very trivial talent, nothing compared with the work you do—’

‘Nonsense!’ The word shot out and belatedly Jacqui wondered if she’d been too forthright when Samira stiffened.

Jacqui had enjoyed their conversation so much she’d almost forgotten her companion’s royal status, and that they’d just met. It felt as if they’d known each other for ages. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.’ Even now Samira didn’t smile and the shadows were back in her eyes. Jacqui wondered if it was just her break-up with her actor boyfriend that had wounded her, or something deeper.

‘What I meant was that we each have talents and should be grateful for them. I could never design anything as beautiful as this.’ She gestured to a photo of a blonde model whose evening gown of midnight blue swirled around her like a dream.

‘You’re gifted in a way that brings beauty into the world. Much of my job dealt with an uglier reality. It was necessary, because people have to know the truth about the world around them, but they need beauty too.’

Perhaps that was why her book was giving her a new sense of optimism. Despite the negatives to harem life, there was great beauty and grace too, personified by the remarkable old women she’d been privileged to meet.

‘You should be proud of your talent, Samira. These are amazing. But you’ve only designed for friends? Why aren’t you doing this professionally?’

‘A good question, but not one for today.’ Asim’s deep voice came from behind her and instantly her flesh prickled in awareness. She drew in a breath, willing her pulse not to racket so fast, afraid her response to him would be too obvious. Since they’d become lovers it grew harder to pretend in public.

‘Asim!’ Samira smiled. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again today. I thought you were working.’

Jacqui turned. Asim filled the doorway, resplendent in a turban and embroidered tunic of dark blue. His stern features gave nothing away but suddenly she recalled his furious accusation when she’d first arrived, that she’d come to ferret out a story about his sister.

Is that what he thought? His hooded eyes were impenetrable but the line of his shoulders was stiff.

‘I was stood up for my meeting.’

‘Stood up?’ Samira frowned. ‘Someone cancelled a meeting with you?’

His gaze switched to Jacqui. Her blood sizzled and the breath stuck in her throat.

Suddenly Samira laughed. It sounded breathless, as if she was out of practice. ‘Your meeting was with Jacqui?’

Jacqui blinked and looked at her watch. Samira was right. Jacqui should have been in Asim’s office ten minutes ago. She’d lost track of time.

‘Who else would dare be late for an appointment with you?’ Despite the teasing lilt in Samira’s voice, Jacqui couldn’t find an answering smile. Not when Asim’s scrutiny skewered her where she sat.

An apology rose to her lips but she knew it wasn’t her tardiness he took issue with. It was that she was with his sister after he’d forbidden such contact. She stared back. ‘I’m sorry, Asim.’ To her chagrin she stumbled over his name. ‘I’ll come now.’

Still he said nothing and Jacqui was appalled at how that wounded her. Did he trust her so little after what they’d shared?

‘Or you could stay too,’ Samira offered.

Asim prowled across and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. His expression softened. ‘I’d like that. But Jacqueline and I need to discuss a few things. I’ll return later.’

I, not we.

‘Thank you for your hospitality, Samira.’ Jacqui got up and pasted on what she hoped was a convincing smile. ‘I enjoyed our time together.’ Far from being a pampered princess with no thoughts outside her social calendar, Samira was someone Jacqui wanted to know better.

‘I’ll look forward to your next visit.’

Jacqui smiled but said nothing, guessing Asim would ban any such visit, if he didn’t simply banish Jacqui from the palace. Her stomach dived. He wouldn’t keep her here if he thought it compromised his sister’s well-being.

Lovers they might be, but theirs was a physical relationship, despite the late-night chats they shared about everything under the sun. An hour ago she’d have said they’d begun to know each other, sharing their tastes in books and politics and their mutual love of chess. But, looking into his dark eyes, Jacqui saw no warmth. She felt hollow.

Repressing a shudder, she followed him.

Asim remained silent as they traversed the palace. Instead of going to his office, they went to his suite.

So he could oversee her packing? Jacqui’s stomach twisted in mixed fury and hurt as she bit down instinctive protests. She would wait till they had privacy.

As soon as they entered his private wing she spun to face him. ‘I suppose you’re going to accuse me of engineering a meeting with Samira so I could sell a story to the gutter press.’

‘Are you?’ He leaned against the door jamb, crossing his arms. He looked smugly superior, and devastatingly sexy despite that harsh expression.

Pain smacked her in the chest as she realised how much his trust had meant. For he had trusted her these last weeks. The guard shadowing her as she roved the palace had disappeared the night of the banquet and lately Asim had even discussed some of his work, describing at least in broad terms various projects and negotiations. She’d loved the sense that they shared more than sex, stupendous as that was.

‘Of course I’m not. You know why I’m here.’ When he didn’t respond she stepped into his personal space, so close her breasts almost brushed his crossed arms.

‘Except you don’t believe me, do you? One of your palace spies came tattling that I was with Samira and you raced to save her from my evil clutches.’

Pain scored deep. She’d thought he believed in her.

‘Palace spies?’ His brows lifted, accelerating the fire in her blood.

‘You know. The guards who used to watch me.’

Slowly he shook his head and for a moment she’d have sworn amusement flickered in his eyes. ‘Actually, it was my grandmother who told me.’

‘She did?’ Jacqui took a step backwards, only to find she wasn’t going anywhere. Asim’s hands were firm on her elbows.

‘Not so fast, my little firebrand.’

‘Hardly little!’ She didn’t need his condescension.

His mouth curled at one corner in an almost-smile that did ridiculous things to her insides and made her despair of her own good sense. How could she be attracted to a man who patently didn’t trust her?

‘Compared with me, you are. Deliciously so.’ He pulled her in, his arms wrapping round her. ‘Tall enough to fit me but slender and fine-boned and, oh, so sexy.’

She shoved his chest but made no headway. He held her and her insides melted like chocolate in the Jazeeri sun. Her weakness appalled her.

‘What a shame then that you don’t believe a word I say.’

‘Who said I don’t, habibti?’

‘But you...’ Her words petered out as she watched that smile take hold and turn into a grin. ‘You let me believe...’

‘I merely preferred to have our discussion in private rather than where we might be overheard. I never said I didn’t believe you.’

‘Then why didn’t you say something?’ She shook her head, the wind taken out of her sails.

One large hand tugged her hair loose of its ponytail.

‘Far better,’ he murmured. ‘I like your hair loose. You look like one of our Jazeeri lionesses with that spark in your amber eyes and your tawny hair rippling around your shoulders.’ His voice dropped to a seductive caress. ‘I love it when you argue, Jaqueline. You have such fire. Such passion. And I want it all.’

He pulled her closer and she was stunned to feel his arousal against her belly. Instantly the fierce roil of emotions within transformed to familiar hunger as instinctively she moulded herself to him. Asim threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her face to his.

‘Yes,’ he murmured against her ear, ‘Like that.’

‘No!’ She tried to insert space between them, levering herself back from his chest, even though the movement pushed her lower body against his and the friction there felt so good she almost groaned.

‘Wait,’ she gasped. ‘You mean you deliberately picked a fight to watch me lose my temper?’ Disbelief warred with something unbelievably close to delight.

‘I did nothing, habibti, but say I wished to speak with you. You did the rest and I’m man enough to enjoy the fireworks.’ His hand slipped down to her breast and she saw stars as he gently kneaded the sensitive mound.

‘You, you arrogant, conniving—’ Her head lolled as he nipped her earlobe and insinuated his hand beneath her shirt, tweaking her nipple. Fire arced, drawing her tight against his body.

‘And you don’t mind at all, do you, my sweet?’ he murmured as he kissed his way down her throat and delight rippled through her. ‘Because you’re not intimidated and making up is so very, very satisfying.’

Jacqui opened her mouth but all that emerged was a feathery sigh as she succumbed to his expert touch.

With a tight smile Asim swung her round so her back was to the wall. Then he proceeded to show her exactly how satisfying making up could be.