Society Weddings Read Online Free PDF Page B

her vow not to anger him any more than was necessary. His look of pure censure offended some very elemental emotion deep inside her, and the look he was lancing her way made her fleetinglywish that she had not opted for such a dramatic cut, that she could win back his approval.
    Until she reminded herself of Chantal, and of all the others. Let them crave his approval—she would make herself tolerate his contempt!
    Or would she?
    Was it feminine pride which made her draw her chin up and pull her shoulders back in haughty query? The movement caused her breasts to push imperceptibly against the silk shirt, and she saw from the sudden tensing of his body that it had not escaped Rashid’s attention.
    The chaperon, whose job it was to protect but not to intrude, was listening to the conversation but unable to understand it. She was not looking at them either, her hands busy with some prayer beads.
    So she would have missed the look of raw, feral hunger which had darkened Rashid’s eyes to pure ebony. And the dull flush of colour which crept over his arrogantly carved cheekbones.
    If a look could be X-rated, then Rashid had just invented it! Refusing to be intimidated—or tempted—by the undisguised sexual hunger which emanated from his body, Jenna stared back at him, even though she was acutely aware of the stinging of her breasts and the heated rush of some honeyed feeling which was making her knees feel very weak indeed.
    ‘You think I look like a man?’ she challenged softly.
    Had something in the air around them changed? For the chaperon lifted her head and frowned, but Rashid paid her no heed. She was his subject, and here only to ensure that neither the man nor the woman touched each other.
    ‘Go back to your beads!’ he commanded in his native tongue, and the woman obeyed him instantly.
    He reverted to French, and gave a small nod of his dark head in the direction of the chaperon. ‘You see? That is the kind of compliance I am used to, Jenna. The kind of compliance I expect,’ he purred, mesmerised by the tight little buds which were pushing against her shirt.
    She would be responsive, his Jenna, he thought, with a sudden heady rush of elation and power. Maybe he had always instinctively known that, but now he was certain. He would make her weep with pleasure in his arms. He would captivate and subdue her until she wanted him and only him, and he would tutor her desire until it matched his own!
    ‘Not from me,’ she said instantly. ‘I am not your subordinate! I have lived too long in America not to consider a man and a woman to be equals!’
    He stiffened with outrage. ‘How do you dare to speak thus to your Ruler?’ he demanded incredulously. ‘When we are wed you will naturally take on the subordinate role of wife!’
    His arrogant boast drew her up short. This wasn’t going as well as she had hoped. In fact, that was the understatement of the year! He should be gradually going off the idea of marriage to her by now. Minute by minute, his resolve should be weakening. She decided to play the equality card a little bit more.
    Defiantly, she raked her fingers through the starkly cropped hair. ‘I’m pretty pleased with it myself,’ she confided, and gave him a bright smile. ‘So easy to manage. I can go straight to college with it still wet from the shower. Just like a man, actually!’
    His eyes became cold chips of jet. ‘Still wet from the shower?’ he repeated tightly. ‘You go to college with your hair wet?’
    She supposed that it must sound bizarre to a man whose position had always isolated him from the cares and concerns of normal everyday life—but he was making it sound as though she had committed some kind of sexual deviation. ‘Of course!’ she expanded. ‘If I’m late.’
    He expelled a low breath. ‘Well, you will not have such concerns in the future, because you will not be studying from now on, Jenna! And you will grow your hair immediately!’
    Jenna stared at him in alarm.