PROLOGUE #4
“You don’t seem like a woman who is worried for her future.”
“Worried?”
He made a noise of assent. “Do you realise that I could have you detained for life? That I could tear up your passport and keep you here for good?” Oh, God, he felt his arousal stir at the very idea of imprisoning her.
He was in trouble. King of a country, and he couldn’t control his own body. At least, not around this woman.
Miranda sucked in a deep breath, her cheeks drained of all colour. “Oh. I… but you just said…”
He pushed aside the unwelcome feelings of desire. “And you just said you wouldn’t give me the information I seek. Which puts me in a rather difficult position.”
He put a hand on her back and propelled her forward, into one of the rooms she’d been invited to use for her stay. When two of his palace guards made to follow them, he shook his head and clicked the door closed in their faces.
“What is it?” She demanded nervously, her voice like a breeze of breath.
He couldn’t believe what he was thinking. Worse, he couldn’t believe he was going to say it. “You do have some choice in the matter.”
Miranda lifted a hand to the column of her neck. “Do I?” Her heart fluttered hopefully.
“I do not think I am imagining this.” He lifted his hand and gently eased hers aside, so that he could place his fingertips on her frantic pulse. “The moment you saw me, you were… curious about me.”
Her betraying pulse sped up. “Of course. You scared the hell out of me,” she lied.
“No.” He demurred with a lazy flicker of his lips, as though he knew how absurd that was. He deliberately moved his body closer so that it touched hers completely. “You were curious about me sexually. You are so tiny, and I am so large.”
She shook her head, but his words instantly sent a spiral of sensation unfurling through her. “No. And you shouldn’t be talking like this.” She looked around nervously, earning a flicker of amusement from him.
“We are alone. And I can speak however I want. I can do whatever I want.”
A frisson of awareness ran down her spine. “Is that a threat?”
His laugh was a low rumble. “No. It is a promise. I have never taken a woman against her will.” He shifted his hips slightly, so that his arousal was pressed close to her pelvis. “I have never needed to.”
“Is this how you operate? You cruise the local jails looking for women who take your fancy?”
Again, he laughed, and it made her heart sink. He knew that she thought he was gorgeous. He thought she would be easy. The certainty inspired a courage she didn’t know possible. She raised her hands and pressed them, hard, against his chest.
“Don’t laugh at me. This is hugely unethical.
” She darted her tongue out and licked her lower lip.
“I am scared and I am terrified and I am under arrest! I don’t know how to organise a lawyer, or who I should speak to, and you – his royal highness Sheikh Radiz Zamin, have kidnapped me and propositioned me in the space of one afternoon.
” Annoyingly, tears stung her eyes. “I haven’t eaten properly in three days.
I haven’t bathed. I’ve barely slept. I feel sick.
I feel tired. And you expect me to what?
Jump into bed with you?” She pushed at his chest again, harder this time, letting all her frustrations come out through her palms. But it was a frustration aimed at herself.
An anger at herself for wanting him in the most confusing of situations.
“I don’t know what kind of women you usually hit on, but perhaps they’re cowered into some kind of obedience. I do not intend to be.”
Radiz had never, in his entire life, borne the brunt of such obvious disdain. It sobered him instantly. What the hell had come over him? To proposition her as he had done had reeked of impropriety. Contrary to what she might think, he had never behaved in a manner such as this.
He withdrew immediately, his face showing his self-disgust. “You are right, madam, and I apologise. I am usually in far better control of my instincts.” He lowered his head in a deferential nod.
“You do not need to be afraid. The charges against you are serious, but my initial offer stands. Once you have explained the motives of your theft, I will look at having these charges changed to something more suitable.”
She opened her mouth to speak but he shook his head. “Do not interrupt me, Miranda. I am not used to being lectured. Even less so to being interrupted.”
Anger made her eyes spark. Terror and desire made her stomach clench. “But I can’t tell you anything. What are the penalties for what I did? Really? And don’t just say life imprisonment.”
“Life imprisonment, or death..”
“Death?” She shivered involuntarily, her eyes blinking closed. “That’s archaic.”
“Yes. I have been trying, without success, to repeal this penalty. However, as you have shrewdly observed, even my power is not absolute.”
“You should charge prosecutors with conspiracy to murder,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around her chest.
He did not wish to get into an argument with her on the evils of capital punishment. Particularly not when they were on the same side of the fence on the matter.
“Or what? I sleep with you, and all is forgiven?”
He froze. It had been a stupid suggestion, but now that she’d mentioned it again, he found himself captivated by the idea. Could he really want her that badly? His voice was thick with hesitation. “No, not necessarily.”
“No?”
“No. It would depend on how well matched we are.”
“I… what the hell do you mean?”
His lips twisted in a small sign of appreciation. “I am not an easy man to please, Miranda. Your willingness to come to bed with me would not be enough.”
She laughed, but it was completely self-conscious. “So what? If I’m average in bed, then the original charges stand?”
“Something like that,” he murmured, wondering distractedly just what exactly had got into him. Hadn’t he just decided this was a terrible idea? An idea completely beneath him?
“Well,” she said with a caustic shrug, “it would be a big gamble to take.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.” But her body was over-heating with the promise of what could be between them.
“Ah, yes, but the penalties if we do not…”
“Yes.” She nodded, grabbing at the flimsy excuse with both hands.
After all, everything she knew from Steph convinced her that Radiz was a deeply moral man, despite his reputation for toughness.
“The penalties.” Miranda knew she would never sleep with a man to save her own skin.
Not even to save the skin of a valued friend.
But the way Radiz had set her pulse skittering was intoxicating.
Who was she kidding? Sleeping with him and getting to walk away afterwards was a very naughty, very exciting fantasy…
and it would have the enormous silver lining of getting her out of a bind.
Hadn’t she come to Fasiya wanting to add a little spice and heat to her life?
Was there anything spicier or hotter than this gorgeous Sheikh?
As for relegating her failed relationship with Andrew to the recesses of her mind, she suspected a single kiss from Radiz would obliterate any memories she had of her ex-fiance.
She bit down on her lip. “So one night and then I’m free to go?”
“No.” He crossed to her and put his hands possessively on her waist. Her core seemed to fill with moist anticipation. “I’m afraid I was raised to have rather high standards of those who serve me.”
“Serve you?” She spat, a spark of fury at war with the flood of desire. “I will not serve you.”
“Of course you will. As I will serve you.” He lifted a hand and clipped his fingers around her zip. “It is the way of lovers.”
“Lovers.” She shook her head from side to side. What she wanted to say died on her tongue as he began to slide the zip of her dress down. Very, very deliberately; so slowly that she ached to reach around and grab a hold of it herself.
“You will be mine until I release you,” he promised. “Mine to have day or night, to please and be pleased by. This relationship will be fulfilling for you, and for me. And at the end of it, you will leave.”
Her heart was hammering against her chest, racing with fear and desire and lust and courage. “It is tempting,” she prevaricated intentionally, earning a sceptical raise of a brow.
“What else?”
“The jewels,” she said, almost unable to believe her own daring. Only what she owed to Steph made her courageous enough to bring up the very crux of her crime .
“Impossible.” He barked a short laugh, and ran a hand over his stubbled chin.
“They are family heirlooms and not available.” He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to the base of her neck.
She jumped in surprise, as his tongue ran along the sensitive skin.
“However, as compensation for your wrongful arrest, I am certain I would be able to arrange something in their place. A dollar amount, perhaps, to equal the worth of the jewels.”
That was all she needed. Her body was limp with so many feelings.
“You know,” he said slowly, finally released the zip and letting the dress pool at her feet. “I almost felt sorry for you. I was just about to leave you alone for the night, after your impassioned speech about your exhaustion.”
“Were you?” She whispered, aware that she was near-naked and barely able to care.
“Mmm,” he agreed, reaching around and unclasping her bra with one hand. Her breasts spilled out and he caught them in his palms, as though they were his to hold. “But then you reminded me of the jewels, and I decided your sentence should commence immediately.”
Miranda didn’t think, for a moment, of disagreeing.
Every single fibre of her being was desperate to be possessed by this man.
Though she considered herself a staunch feminist, the ability to think rationally seemed to have leaped out of the window the moment he had floated his outrageous proposition.