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‘I’m not lying,’ she mumbled in belated response, feeling bereft because he had withdrawn his hand again.
‘You have been hurt, and that is not acceptable under any circumstances. No one has the right to inflict injury on you, not even a parent. I must know the truth,’ Shahir persisted steadily. ‘Without your trust, I cannot help you.’
‘You couldn’t help me anyway!’ The involuntary protest erupted from Kirsten, and stinging tears flooded her eyes and overflowed, her unhappiness unconcealed.
‘In that you are wrong.’ Years of rigorous royal training prevented Shahir from attempting to comfort her by closing his arms round her, but he had never been more tempted to break the rules. He recognised that it had been very unwise to tackle her on such an emotive matter in a public area of the castle. ‘But this is definitely not the place for us to talk about it.’
‘We can’t talk anywhere!’ Kirsten gasped.
In disagreement, Shahir curved a purposeful hand to her spine and guided her along to the door that lay at the foot of the gallery. Beyond that solid mahogany barrier lay his private quarters, maintained solely by his personal retinue, where nothing short of fire or flood would lead to an interruption. His bodyguards, who had been deeply unhappy when their royal charge moved out of their sight and hearing, greeted his reappearance with pronounced relief.
Shahir swept Kirsten past them into the vast sitting room. ‘I need you to calm down and tell me what happened to you yesterday.’
‘I can’t tell you…’ A stifled sob thickened Kirsten’s declaration.
Shahir reached for her hand to draw her to him when she would have turned away in an effort to conceal her distress. ‘Loyalty to one’s family is always a most admirable trait, but in this case your personal safety is more important. What happened yesterday could happen again, and you could be more seriously hurt.’
‘But it’s my own fault…I brought it on myself!’ Kirsten protested guiltily.
‘How could it be your fault?’
‘If I’d let you scare off Bruno Judd this wouldn’t have happened! But I was mad with you because you interfered, and I thought it was none of your business,’ Kirsten admitted shakily, her green eyes glimmering with tears of regret.
‘Hush….’ Murmuring soothing words in Arabic, Shahir sank down on the arm of a sofa and reached for her other hand in a reassuring gesture. ‘Don’t be upset. How is the photographer involved in this?’
‘That stupid man found out where I lived and called round to introduce himself to my father,’ Kirsten volunteered. ‘He must’ve thought that he could persuade Dad that there was no harm in his wanting to take photos of me.’
‘Judd visited your home?’ Shahir frowned, his lean, powerful face intent on her.
‘And showed Dad pictures of “shameless h-half-naked women”!’ Kirsten quoted, with a hysterical edge to her shaking voice. ‘Can you imagine anything more guaranteed to cause offence? My father was waiting for me to come home. He was in a real rage—’
‘No more…stop remembering.’ Shahir rested a forefinger in gentle reproach against her quivering lower lip while wondering how it was that the livid bruise should only seem to accentuate her fragile beauty. ‘He will not have the opportunity to hurt you again. I will not allow it.’
‘But there’s nothing you can do,’ she whispered unevenly, her breath feathering in her dry throat.
‘On my word of honour, I will protect you,’ Shahir swore with fierce resolve, but he knew even as he said it that the easiest way to protect her would be to take her away from Strathcraig.
But how would she survive removed from everything and everyone that she knew?
Why should he not look after her? an insidious inner voice queried. Why should he not take her to his bed? What did she have here? What would he be taking her from? Poverty and misery. At the very least he would make her happy. In fact he was convinced he had the power to make her deliriousl
y happy.
Suddenly madly aware of the silence surrounding them, and of his proximity, Kirsten muttered guiltily, ‘I shouldn’t be here with you.’
Brilliant dark golden eyes flared over her tear-streaked face and held her uncertain gaze with arrogant force of will. ‘But you want to be with me…’
It was a fatal statement, for the barrier she had attempted to raise crashed down again. She did want to be with him—and if even he knew that, why should she pretend otherwise? She was in the mood to rebel, and was already asking herself why she shouldn’t for once do as she wanted.
The heat of his appraisal sent hot little flames of anticipation twisting and curling through her slender length. The tension was excruciating. She felt as if her own heartbeat was thundering in her ears at a faster and faster pace, making her dizzy and breathless. In an almost infinitesimal movement she shifted closer to him.
Shahir picked up on that feminine encouragement with a hot-blooded masculine appreciation powered by the raw physical charge of his arousal. His mounting conviction that she was not quite the innocent he had believed readily put to flight any lingering thread of restraint. Spiky black lashes semi-cloaked his narrowed gleaming gaze as he focused on the luscious pink fullness of her lips. ‘I want you.’
‘Do you?’ Her breath was feathering in her throat. She was taut with anticipation. He sprang fluidly upright and reached for her with a strength and assurance that exhilarated her. Splaying his hand to the soft curve of her hip, he urged her up against his big powerful frame. Crushed to the hard, muscular heat of his strong body, she trembled. He bent his handsome dark head and captured her parted lips with devastating hunger.
The searching flicker of his tongue against the roof of her mouth made her shiver and gasp. She angled her head back so that he could plunder the tender interior. His lips were warm and skilled, and unbelievably sensual. One kiss left her craving the next with helpless impatience.
‘You are as eager for me as I am for you,’ Shahir growled, taking her swollen pink mouth again, with a demanding urgency that she found irresistible. Lifting her, he brought her down on the hard cradle of his thighs. Deft fingers released the zip on her overall and pushed the garment from her shoulders to free her from it.
