Defying her Desert Duty Read Online Free PDF Page B

voice shattered the stilted silence. ‘We’re in the bedroom. Come in and join us.’
    A stifled noise made her look up. Zahir El Hashem lookedfor once shaken out of his complacency. His eyes were wide and his mouth slack. He blinked and opened his mouth as if to speak but Soraya had had enough.
    She stepped through the door and swung it closed. For the length of five heartbeats she stood, her back pressed against the door, waiting for his imperious summons, for there was no doubt he’d been about to speak.
    Instead there was silence. Even through the door she sensed his presence, like a disapproving thundercloud. Her skin prickled as if she’d touched a live wire and her pulse pattered out of sync.
    ‘Soraya? Julie’s here too. Come on in.’
    ‘Coming,’ she croaked, knowing she had no hope of escaping Lisle or her sister. Julie must have stopped by to see how things were with her twin as soon as Lisle’s boyfriend had left.
    Girly gossip wasn’t what Soraya needed but at least it would take her mind off the news she’d just received: that her wonderful adventure in Paris was over and she was returning home to fulfil the duty she’d been bound to from the age of fourteen. The duty she’d become accustomed to thinking was in some far-off future that became less real with every passing year.
    Yet as she snicked the bolt shut and scooped up Lisle’s carelessly discarded camisole, Soraya was surprised to realise it was Zahir El Hashem’s strong features that filled her mind. Not those of her betrothed.
    Zahir stared at the door, one hand still raised as if to stop it shutting. Or force it open.
    Shock held him rigid. It wasn’t a familiar feeling. He was a man of some experience. Little surprised him. To be at a loss because she’d been invited to make up a threesome with the lovers he’d seen last night should be impossible.
    Yet he rocked back on his feet, his gut clenching as if he’d caught a hammer blow to the belly. Searing bile snaked through his system.
    Despite what he’d seen earlier, he’d almost convinced himselfhe’d been mistaken about Soraya. That the woman who carried herself with such poise and grace, yet with that intriguing shadow of anxiety in her eyes, was special. When he’d relaxed his guard he’d liked her, despite his doubts.
    Stupid wishful thinking!
    Had she deliberately sidetracked him?
    Valiantly he’d tried to keep his eyes off the syncopated sway of her pert backside as she climbed the stairs in precarious heels. Even when he’d managed not to look he’d imagined the slip of soft fabric across warm, rounded flesh. His palms had tingled with remembered heat.
    Anger welled. His hands fisted and his jaw ached as he clenched his teeth against the need to bellow out her name.
    She’d played him for a fool. Tried to con him.
    He felt … gutted.
    He slumped against the door, hand splayed against it for support, recalling that discarded scrap of lingerie casually discarded just inside the door.
    He’d spoiled her fun at the club and, he realised now, with the news she had to return to Bakhara where her every move would be scrutinised. Was she even now hauling that slinky dress over her head to join her friends in a little early-morning debauchery?
    Nausea writhed.
    Breathing heavily, Zahir sought calm.
    Could he have misread what he’d seen and heard? He had so little evidence. Was he wrong to assume the worst? It was tempting to hope so.
    Till he realised how much he
wanted
to be wrong. Fear feathered his backbone as he registered the sense almost of longing within him.
    From the first his instinct had screamed a warning about Soraya Karim: she was dangerous. She tested his control to the limit and messed with his judgement.
    He couldn’t let her undermine his duty too.
    Zahir sighed and scrubbed his hand over gritty eyes, suddenlymore tired than he could remember. How could he break it to Hussein that the woman he planned to marry might not be fit for the honour?
    ‘I’m