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And then the strangest thing happened: Cat’s huff of outrage broke out of her mouth in a giggle.
She shouldn’t find this funny, because it absolutely wasn’t funny. At all. But as Kasia’s laughter joined hers—echoing off the chamber’s lush furnishings—Cat felt something let go inside her. Like a lock clicking open, releasing all the tension and turmoil that had been tormenting her for days. Until all that was left was the absurdity of the whole situation.
More chuckles popped out—until she and Kasia were bent over, tears of laughter streaming down their faces.
Cat gasped for breath and felt the warm glow of kinship. A kinship she’d never had before.
As a schoolgirl, and later in college, she’d always been so serious, so sensible, concentrating on her work, and making a point of not associating with the frivolous, fun girls, girls like Kasia—full of life and mischief and spontaneity—because she’d been fearful of having too much fun, and being distracted from her studies. But as she and Kasia laughed together the thought of being lost in the Sheikh’s palace and discovering this treasure trove of impossibly erotic outfits became more ridiculous and riotously funny by the second—and it occurred to her how much she’d missed out on. Because somehow or other, she’d found such a friend in Kasia.
‘What’s going on in here?’ a deep voice demanded.
Cat spun round so fast she almost fell over. The last of her laughter got trapped in her lungs, swallowed by shock.
Kasia went deathly quiet beside her, then dropped to her knees.
‘Your Divine Majesty, please forgive us,’ her friend murmured, her forehead touching the floor in supplication. She sounded terrified.
Zane Khan stood on the balcony, his arms folded over his chest, his big frame leaning negligently against the carved wooden rail, watching them.
Mortification flushed through Cat’s system.
Oh, good grief, how much had he seen...? And heard? Exactly how long had he been standing there?
‘Please accept our deepest apologies, Your Excellency,’ Kasia mumbled, her voice trembling now like the rest of her. ‘I will accept any punishment you deem fit.’
‘It’s not Kasia’s fault.’ Cat finally found her voice, concerned herself now. He hadn’t moved, and it was impossible to read his expression. Was that amusement she could see or annoyance? ‘It’s totally my fault. I take full responsibility.’
They’d trespassed in his dead mother’s salon. Touched her clothing.
Horrified at the sudden realisation she was still clutching the sensual silk to her breast, she jerked both hands behind her back.
‘I see,’ he said as he pushed off against the rail and strolled into the room. His gaze remained fixed on her face—which felt as if it had heated to about a thousand degrees. ‘Then I’m afraid one of you will definitely have to be punished.’
Could she hear the hint of humour? Or was she imagining it?
‘Then punish me,’ she said, knowing she couldn’t take the chance he wasn’t joking. ‘Not Kasia.’
‘Okay,’ he said, and she saw it then, the glint of humour.
She should have been relieved. He wasn’t mad, he appeared to be amused. But as he continued to walk towards her, his presence sucked all the oxygen out of her lungs, and all the tension that had been tormenting her for days screamed back across her shoulder blades.
She was trapped by her own acute awareness of him, her whole body responding in ways she knew it shouldn’t to his nearness. His enticing scent intoxicated her as he stopped in front of her, and touched her flaming cheek with the side of his thumb.
‘Kasia, you may return to the women’s quarters,’ he said without looking at the girl as he dismissed her. ‘And mention this to no one.’
‘Yes, Your Divine Majesty.’
Trapped in Zane’s gaze, Cat heard the relief in the girl’s voice—and the hint of humour—before her footsteps disappeared and the door slammed behind her.
Cat’s blush hit critical mass. Was it obvious? Even to Kasia? Her reaction to Zane?
‘I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come in here, I...’
He touched a finger to her lips, silencing the rambling apology. ‘Don’t...’ he said, the husky smile in his voice weakening her knees. ‘It was good to hear laughter in this room for once.’
She wondered what he meant, but her curiosity died, washed away on a wave of longing when he ran his thumb down her neck, and brushed the pulse point hammering against her throat. Flattening his other hand against her body, he ran it down her side and curled his fingers into the material at her waist, tugging her towards him.
‘Breathe, Catherine,’ he said. And the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding gushed out. ‘So would you?’ he asked.
