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She smiled at him, but she was distracted. “Thank you for trusting me enough to talk about your brother.”
His brow furrowed. Until that moment, he hadn’t thought of it in those terms. But he had trusted her. He had opened up to someone for the first time in a long time, and it had felt good.
“Olivia …”
She was at the door. God, but she was an angel, with that hair she insisted on pulling into a bun, and the tantalising curves that no clothes could disguise. She turned to face him, her expression an inquiry.
“Go and sleep. I have grown … accustomed to our midnight tête-à-tête.”
And though she wasn’t prone to blushing, she felt a hint of pink warm her cheeks. “Yes, sir.” She said with a cheeky smile, and he was absolutely certain that she exaggerated her already distracting swagger as she walked towards the lift.
She was a witch!
The tension between them was at simmering point, and yet, for a full week, they continued as though they were little more than a somewhat dysfunctional employer and employee. Without fail, he called for her every night, so that they could drink tea and talk for hours, as though they were old friends. With Olivia Henderson, Zamir forget that he was His Royal Highness, Exalted Sheikh of Dashan. He was simply Zamir.
And though they spoke of casual subjects, keeping away from anything serious or personal, he came to understand her. He knew that she had a façade as a fun-loving, wild, free-spirited woman, but that she was someone who felt things deeply. He knew that she had assumed the role between her sisters as peace-keeper and soothsayer, but that she secretly dreaded the possibility that they might lose their closeness. He knew that she drank tea when it was too hot, and that she constantly scalded her tongue. He knew that she liked to sing but had a terrible voice, and he knew that she had hundreds of people she considered to be ‘friends’. And though she’d never spoken of past lovers or boyfriends, she spoke often of males in her life, men who meant a lot to her, and who she’d presumably had relationships with. And every time she threw one of their names into conversation, he felt a tightening of envy.
His initial concerns, that Olivia deserved better than the meaningless sex he could offer, was becoming eroded by the fact that she’d indulged in that kind of relationship with other men.
Why should it not also be him?
Only Zamir was a man of honour, and he had promised her that the next move would be hers.
“You know,” Olivia said one evening, her legs curled up beneath her, and her fingers wrapped around the fine bone china mug, “you told me you’d be my most demanding client. I have to tell you, I think you’re the easiest I’ve worked for.”
He raised a brow. “In what way?”
She pulled a face. “Besides going to the clinic with you, I have no other duty. I spend time here. Talking to you. Drinking delicious tea, which, if I’m honest, I’m completely addicted to.”
He laughed softly. “I’m disappointed you find it so easy to spend time with me.”
“Are you? Why?”
Honour be damned. He placed his cup down and stood. Her eyes lifted to his face and Zamir held her gaze as he crossed the carpeted floor. He knelt before her. “Because it means you are not finding it difficult to resist me.”
She swallowed, and the sense of relaxation evaporated completely.
He put his hands on her legs; they stiffened beneath his touch. “Do you not feel what I do, Olivia?”
Her breathing was fast; he could see her chest moving quickly in time with her rapid inhalation and exhalation.
“I …”
“Do you not look at me and wonder?”
“Wonder?” She repeated, feeling dumb and mute.
“Do you not wonder if this chemistry will translate into truly incredible sex?”
“Zamir,” she groaned, and dipped her head forward. Her forehead brushed against his chest, and he breathed in deeply the sweet smell of her hair.
“I said I would leave it to you, but I have waited, and you have not crumbled. If you do not want me say so now. I do not think I can resist you for another night.”
“God,” she whispered, her voice tremulous.
“My dreams are tormented by you. You are all I think of. Do you feel it too?”
“Yes,” she said finally, but the confession cost her. She pulled her head back and stared up into his eyes. She saw triumph there, and relief too.
