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Rosa met the gleam of his ebony eyes. His sexual boast was shocking and his arrogance was second to none, and yet. It seemed such a stupid thing to feel, but in the midst of all her confused emotions, she was aware only of a feeling of safety when she looked at him. Because whatever faults he possessed, she felt sure he would protect her. Nobody would dare come near her if Sheikh Kulal Al-Dimashqi was fighting in her corner.
Even if she could wave a magic wand—which is what she’d originally wanted—she knew now that her old life was over. She couldn’t go back. She’d fled to France and booked into a cheap hotel and sold an old family bracelet and nearly got herself laid. For the first time in her life, she’d felt as if she was really living—the way her brothers were allowed to live—instead of existing in the pampered little bubble they’d created for her.
She’d tasted freedom and found it a heady brew and she could never return to the life she’d known before. All those eyes watching her. All those unspoken codes she’d grown up with, and the expectation which came with them. That Rosa was a good girl and that one day she’d marry some suitable Sicilian who had been picked for her.
If she was going to have to endure the ignominy of an arranged marriage, then why shouldn’t she arrange it herself? Especially as this particular marriage had a get-out clause. She wanted independence and Kulal had offered it to her. He had offered her a generous pay-out too. For the first time in her life she would be independent! Imagine being able to do as she wanted, without having to run to someone else for permission. Her traditional family could not object once she’d got that all-important band of gold on her finger.
‘It’s a very tempting offer,’ she said.
‘I find it’s always wise to make your offers tempting. It usually gets people to agree to them.’ A smile slid across his lips as he slanted her a quizzical look. ‘And your “conditions” are?’
Rosa hesitated. She had been about to tell him that it would have to be a celibate marriage. That she would not have sex with a man who thought so little of women—a man who had been prepared to cheat on his ex-fiancée without a flicker of conscience. But she could see now that such a demand would be impossible to enforce. Could she really imagine saying no to the sexual advances of a man like Kulal Al-Dimashqi? Could she really picture herself trying to resist him? She felt the sudden lurch of her heart.
Not in a million years.
She looked at the black eyes which glittered in his hawk-like face and in that moment she suspected he knew exactly what she was thinking. She could feel her skin tightening as their gazes clashed in recognition—as if her body was silently acknowledging the sizzling connection which blazed between them. She might not like what he stood for and she might disapprove of his views on women, but she wasn’t stupid enough to deny that she wanted him.
The fact that he could treat his ex-fiancée so badly told her he wasn’t a man to be trusted, but what man was? Even her own uncle had cold-bloodedly bedded her mother! She wasn’t looking for trust, or softness—or any of the things which most women wanted when they took a husband. And with her family background, she certainly wasn’t looking for love. Her mouth flattened. Definitely not love. She wanted someone to show her how to become a woman in the fullest sense of the word—and Kulal would be the ideal candidate. She would take from him everything he was prepared to give and then she would walk away.
‘I’ve decided to waive my conditions,’ she said, her airy tone matching the careless shrug of her shoulders.
Kulal saw the way her colour had heightened and again he smiled. ‘I rather thought you might,’ he murmured, his gaze drifting down to where her luscious breasts were jutting against the satin of her robe. He could see the nipples hardening as he watched them and he felt the responding jerk of desire. ‘And that pleases me.’
‘But I don’t want my brothers finding out,’ she continued. ‘Because they’ll try and put a stop to this wedding, if they do.’
For a moment he contemplated the idea of challenging her brothers—or laughing aloud at the very idea that their supremacy could challenge his. But why fight a battle which was ultimately pointless? They would get their precious Rosa back when the year was up. ‘There are things we need to decide, but we can easily put them on hold.’ His voice was husky as his gaze drifted once more to her nipples. ‘And start occupying ourselves a little more pleasurably.’
She looked at him. ‘Meaning?’
‘You know very well what I mean, Rosa. Your body certainly gives every indication of doing so. And there’s a bed right over there, just waiting.’
