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No cologne on him. Just the clean scent of himself. The hot scent of a man who wanted a woman
And yet he’d let her go.
Rami would not have done that.
She’d always sensed it in him, the need to dominate, to take what he wanted and to hell with anyone else …
Rachel thrust her fingers into her wet hair and drove it back from her face.
She wasn’t dealing with Rami; she was dealing with his brother—and now that she’d had a minute to think, she could see that the brother was a much more wily adversary.
She understood what he’d done. Taken her in a deep, hard kiss and then suddenly turned it into something that was soft, seductive and almost tender.
He’d wanted to confuse her. And he had. That last instant when he’d been kissing her, when she—when she’d had some kind of response to the feel of his mouth on hers …
No. No!
Rachel took a deep breath.
She hadn’t responded. Not the way he’d wanted. Her reaction had been intuitive. Instinctive. Whatever you wanted to call it.
The I-can-survive-anything woman who lived inside her had taken her straight to automatic pilot.
Let the kiss happen. Stop struggling. That was all she’d done.
She wasn’t like Suki.
Money, power, good looks didn’t turn her on.
Rachel rose to her feet. She felt better. In fact, she felt fine. Strong. In control.
She even had a plan. Well, a plan of sorts.
And she was wasting precious time, dissecting the ugly little scene as if it mattered when she knew that it di
dn’t.
Karim, the Sheikh of All he Surveyed, would be back.
She didn’t have any doubt about it.
Her make-up bag was on a shelf over the sink. Quickly, she opened it, opened the tiny medicine cabinet, swept lipsticks, mascara, eyeliner, aspirin, everything that was there straight inside.
Of course he’d be back, she thought as she pulled a comb through her hair, then secured it in a ponytail.
The man was a lot of things but he was far from stupid.
She knew that he’d seen straight through her lies. Not the one she’d acted out, as if she’d kissed him back when she damned well hadn’t.
