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‘I wouldn’t be good at my profession if simple deduction elude

d me that easily, Esmeralda. Besides, a high percentage of couples who take such helicopter rides are already involved or about to be. You choose your words carefully, but correct me if I’m mistaken that things ended badly because you had a change of heart about advancing the relationship?’

He struck so close to the truth it robbed her of breath. He took her slack-jawed look as confirmation, and his gaze hardened. ‘Let me guess, he wanted to take things to the next level, and you suddenly decided you had somewhere else to be?’

‘You make me sound so...calculating.’ Which was such an apt description of Jeffrey Scott’s annihilation of Bryan, she suppressed a shiver.

‘Do I? If not that, then what? What was this bad experience that still makes you green at the gills with guilt?’ His voice was harsher, his expression haughtily superior.

He’d seen her guilt. She had nowhere to hide. ‘He...proposed to me...after the helicopter ride.’

Sharp, narrowed eyes darted to her bare left hand, then back to her face. ‘And you said no, obviously.’ Why was there such a thick vein of satisfaction in his voice? Was he that glad that he’d proved her as callous as she’d been forced to be with Bryan?

‘Yes, I said no. I couldn’t marry him.’ For one thing, she’d been not quite eighteen to Bryan’s twenty-one. For another, she hadn’t been in love with him. And that was even before she’d discovered what her father had done to him.

‘Why not?’

‘I just couldn’t.’

Although his gaze remained on her, he didn’t probe further. Which was a relief, since everything that had occurred afterwards ate like acid in her belly, even after all this time. The pain of it would never go away. Someday it might lessen, enough for her to forge something of a life she could be proud of. Until then, her work would be her life.

The sudden dip of the helicopter had her gripping her seat, her heart tripping over itself. A quick look out the window showed they were approaching their destination. Like most prisons in the world, this one too consisted of large, interconnecting buildings ring-fenced by miles of menacing barbed wire, towers with guards armed to the teeth. Despite the awful things he’d done, the thought of her father spending the rest of his days there—

‘Easy,’ Zaid drawled from across her. ‘You’re in danger of ripping the seat to shreds.’

Esme looked down. Her knuckles were white from her death grip on the soft leather. With a deep breath, she released her hold on it, but her gaze returned to the looming structure. There were no outward signs of unrest. Which should have brought a little relief. Until her gaze flickered once more to Zaid.

‘Should you be here?’

Dark brows clamped in a frown. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You’re the Sultan. You’re also the man who presumably put a lot of the criminals in there behind bars. Aren’t you...won’t you be exposing yourself to...um, danger at the prison?’

His brow slowly cleared. ‘Are you concerned about my welfare, Esmeralda?’ The softly voiced question rumbled between them, gaining an electric note that sent a jolt of awareness through her.

‘I’m merely making a pertinent observation,’ she replied.

The dangerous sensuality left his expression, replaced by the merciless resolution she was beginning to associate with the ruler of Ja’ahr. ‘You expect me to cower behind the safety of my palace walls in times of crisis?’

It was the last thing she expected. His presence in her hotel room alone when he needn’t have come to her aid at all was testament to the fact that Zaid Al-Ameen didn’t back down from confrontations.

Letting his police chief take her would have been one less problem for him to contend with. Instead, he’d done the opposite. ‘No, but that doesn’t mean you should rush into danger either. What if...something happens to you?’

‘So you are troubled by the idea of harm coming to me.’ His voice held definite mockery, but it also held another ephemeral note. One that stroked her senses, and drew her gaze magnetically to his. The gold flecks that swirled through his eyes were almost hypnotic, transmitting a call that struck a curious hunger within her. When his gaze dropped to her lips, Esme’s breath stuttered then died in her lungs. The need to slick her tongue over the tingling lower lip grew too strong to resist. She watched his eyes darken as he followed the slow glide.

‘Being concerned about someone’s safety is an act of common decency. Is that so bad?’ Her voice was a husky murmur laden with emotions she didn’t want to name.

A touch of hard cynicism fleeted over his face. ‘In my experience, most acts of selflessness come at a price. I have learned that it’s better to look a gift horse in the mouth. That way you know exactly what you’re getting.’

The helicopter jostled gently as it rotated and landed with barely a bump on a designated platform near the outer perimeter of the prison. Zaid made no move to get out. Neither did she. The cocoon they were wrapped in felt too intimate, too powerful to break.

‘You’re entitled to your opinion, I suppose. But I assure you, my concern doesn’t come with a price.’

‘Perhaps not in this instance. Can you say the same for the future?’ he queried.

‘I can’t predict the future, Zaid. Neither can you.’

His smile didn’t touch his eyes, and his gaze flicked from her eyes to her mouth and back again, as if he couldn’t look away. ‘But it’s in my interest to mitigate against it.’

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