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The moment it had left his lips, he’d wished it back. This wasn’t how he’d intended this to go. He’d intended to maneuver her, to reel her in slowly, to spoil Hassan’s marriage arrangement by seducing his bride-to-be and claiming her for himself. What he’d just offered wouldn’t serve his purpose.
But he couldn’t take it back. Not when she’d looked up at him with such hope and entreaty as she’d made her request.
Nothing remained on her face now but shock. She must have expected him to say just about anything else but his succinct promise.
He watched the smooth column of her throat working, and he hardened all over as he imagined his lips soothing the convulsive movement, swallowing her moans at their origin.
Then in that velvety voice that strummed every male fiber in his body, her husky question validated his assessment of her incredulity. “Just...done?”
That was his cue to add some qualification, to drive his own bargain. But he couldn’t bear to think of interrupting the unrehearsed progression of events.
Deciding to let this play out and adjust his direction later, he nodded. “I did say I’d do anything for you. I intend to.”
And the strangest thing was, he did. Apart from what he had to gain by intervening, what drove him now was the need to wipe this trapped expression from her face. He’d come here thinking she’d agreed to marry Hassan to have access to his bottomless oil-money resources. While her history painted a picture of an independent, successful woman, he’d known of many such women who preferred being subsidized once the opportunity presented itself. That she’d refused to marry Najeeb, then consented to marry his father had made him think she’d preferred the older man who’d make far less demands, and who’d be far easier to manipulate.
But one look at her had told him that she found Hassan and the idea of marrying him abhorrent on all levels. How she was being forced to enter that marriage, he had no idea yet, but he didn’t doubt that she was, and that she was seething with futile rage at having no choice. A choice he would now give her.
Not that she believed he could, not as easily as he’d implied. He saw the flare of hope in her eyes dim with the gloom of reality. “Intentions are one thing, executions are another.”
“Not to me. Anything I intend, I execute.”
At the certainty in his words, her gaze flickered again. “But surely not anything.”
He shrugged. “I can do anything I put my mind to. I always have. And I always will.”
Her edible lips hung open for moments before a breathy chuckle escaped them. Her every expression and sound inflamed him. Her every inch, even in that unflattering dress, seemed to be exerting an inexorable gravity on his every cell and sense.
She shook her head in dazed humor, and the silky waves of her hair undulated around her shoulders. “You know what? I believe you can. The universe must bend over backward to accommodate you.” Her eyes turned serious, and he wished to fast-forward in time to when she’d look up at him with eyes blazing with passion as he rode her to ecstasy. “But don’t you want to know what this is all about before you make such a commitment?”
He shrugged again. “All I need to know is that you enlisted my help in escaping a fate I believe is worse than death to you. Whatever needs to be done, I’ll do it.”
“But you still need to know details, so you can decide what needs to be done.”
And he gave in to the urge. He reached out and cupped her face, groaned as her firm softness filled his palm, as her flesh singed him with that perfect storm of chemistry that had erupted between them.
He barely stopped himself from swooping to claim the lips that spilled such an intoxicating gasp at his touch. He groaned. “You can tell me everything you want...in my suite.”
His hand melted down her neck and shoulder before it closed over a resilient arm as he turned toward the French doors to lead her outside.
At her rooted unresponsiveness, he frowned. “You do know who I am?”
She had to. She wouldn’t have asked what she had from someone else. For who else could she think could thwart a king?
But he was suddenly uncertain she knew. After all, nothing so far had followed any logical projections.
She silently nodded, her eyes still filled with that shell-shocked expression.
He pressed. “You’re not sure you can trust me?”
She shook her head, then squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, they blasted him in an even hotter wave of unconscious sensuality. He barely suppressed a shudder.
But her color had become hectic and her breathing erratic. She swayed unsteadily in his grip.
Suddenly anxious, he asked, “Are you all right?”
She nodded again, then groaned. “Hell, I keep nodding and shaking my head as if I’ve forgotten how to speak.”
His eyes assessed her as he took his hand reluctantly away. “Maybe you don’t want to speak to me anymore.”
