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CHAPTER THREE
Ahmed walked up toward her, continuing to smile. He looked so confident, so sure of himself. And, that confidence merely served to highlight the elegance of his appearance, the sheer masculine presence. She felt nerves warm her middle.
There was that effect again, she told herself. That instant reaction she'd noticed in the garden. She shifted on her heels, curling her fingers tightly around her clutch, and glanced at the other limo.
The driver of her own limo hesitated when he noticed the sheikh walking toward Gemma. Then the driver's eyes widened. It was clear from his expression that he recognized Sheikh Ahmed, and did not know what he should do. He opted to stand and watch while Ahmed advanced toward Gemma.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
"What does it look like? I'm waiting for you," he said.
She folded her arms and furrowed her brows. "Do you have any idea what you did in there?"
He halted a few steps in front of her and pretended to look puzzled. "You mean, when I was being polite to Rashid?"
"You call that polite?"
"He and I have an understanding," Ahmed said casually. "He knows what to expect from me. We enjoy our little battles."
Gemma shook her head. "I don't think Rashid enjoyed it very much. Especially what you did at the end."
Ahmed glanced down at her hands. "I couldn't help myself."
"Obviously," she snapped. "Anyway, if you don't mind, my driver is waiting for me."
Ahmed looked over at the driver who still hadn't moved an inch. Ahmed smiled. "Looks like your driver isn't sure if he wants to go anywhere."
Gemma looked across and saw that Ahmed was right. The driver looked like a deer caught in headlights.
Ahmed came closer to Gemma. "Let me have a word with him," he muttered.
"Why?"
Ahmed ignored her and wandered slowly over to the driver and spoke to him in the Qazhar language. The effect was instantaneous. The driver withdrew from Ahmed, not even glancing in Gemma's direction.
Ahmed came back to Gemma. "I've arranged to have you taken home in my limo."
Gemma scowled at Ahmed. "Really," she said in a flat voice. "And who gave you the right to do that?"
"Why you, of course," he replied.
For a moment she was lost for words. Then she recovered herself and glared at him. "When?"
"When I kissed your hand," he murmured.
Gemma felt the color drain from her face. "What are you talking about?"
He leaned closer and she caught the heavy aroma of his scent. It triggered a faint stirring within her that she desperately wanted to ignore. "I couldn't help noticing your reaction," he said quietly.
"I didn't react at all," she insisted. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"But I noticed. And I think Rashid did too."
Gemma sighed heavily. "Look, this is ridiculous. I'm just going to take the limo that was arranged for me, if you don't mind."
Gemma looked across and saw the limo start to move off into the empty lane. Her heart sank and she cried out, pointing toward the vehicle, as if to claw it back.
Ahmed turned and grinned. "Looks like you have no other option. Unless you want to go back inside and ask Rashid for help," he said.
