The Sheik and the Virgin Princess (12 page)

He groaned in his throat and drew back. Zara blinked several times. There was definitely fire in his blue eyes. Fire and wanting. Could this incredible passion be about her?

He stalked to the glass doors leading to the balcony and stared out at the horizon. “That shouldn’t have happened,” he said quietly.

“But it did.” She cleared her throat. She couldn’t stop thinking about that ridge she’d felt. “Rafe, are you, um, armed?”

He turned to face her. “What?”

“Do you have a gun?” She motioned vaguely toward his trousers without actually looking there.

One corner of his mouth quirked up in a shadow of a smile. “No.”

“So you’re um…” Her voice trailed off. “You were, um, interested in what we were doing?”

His gaze narrowed. “What are you trying to find out?”

She couldn’t actually say the words. Heat flared on her cheeks. “You know. I sort of felt…something.”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re asking that. Yes, I was aroused. I wanted you. I still want you.”

Happiness filled her. She felt light enough to float. She hadn’t been wrong. He’d really been hard—and for her.

He walked toward her and stopped a couple of feet in front of her. After putting his hands on her shoulders, he shook her slightly.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he told her. “There’s nothing wrong with your body. In fact, I think everything about it’s just right. Of course I want to make love with you.”

It was the best thing any man had ever said to her. She nearly swooned. Even as air refused to fill her lungs, she had a very clear image of the two of them in bed. They would be naked, moving together. She got a little vague at that point, but Rafe was the kind of man who knew things. He would make her first time wonderful. In fact—

“Whatever you’re thinking, you can just forget it,” he said bluntly.

“Huh?”

He dropped his arms to his sides. “I mean it, Zara. There’s not going to be one damn thing between us. I should never have kissed you.”

“I can’t quite bring myself to agree with you,” she murmured before she could stop herself.

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “You’re a princess. I’m your temporary bodyguard. My job is to keep you safe from every kind of threat. That means the sexual ones—even if they come from me.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Why? We obviously both enjoyed kissing. What’s so horrible about that?”

He dismissed her with a quick jerk of his fingers. “We both know where we were going.”

Her elation grew. Really? They’d been heading to bed? He’d thought they’d been about to do it? The frustration of finally being with a man who really wanted her and yet refused to give in to temptation made her temper flare.

“I don’t understand,” she told him. “In all the movies I’ve seen, the bodyguard always sleeps with the client.”

“This isn’t a movie,” he growled. “There are a lot of reasons why I’m not giving in to temptation.”

He continued talking but she wasn’t listening. Temptation? Rafe—the walking, breathing hunk who could have any woman he wanted on this planet and probably several others—thought she was a temptation? Wow.

“Zara, you’re not paying attention.”

She smiled. “I know.” He sounded so serious when she just wanted to freeze-frame the moment so she could have it always.

He crooked his finger and pushed his knuckle against her chin. “I’m trying to make a point here. What would have happened if we’d continued?”

She was a little fuzzy on that part of things, which was her point.

“Things would have gotten hot and heavy pretty fast,” he said when she didn’t speak. “About two seconds after that, your dress lady would have come strolling back into the bedroom. Want to think about that for a second?”

Zara most definitely did not. She’d forgotten about the fitting. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Scandal isn’t pretty. Trust me on this. And while I finally have your attention, listen to this. I’m not some handsome prince looking for true love. I don’t believe in commitments or forever. I don’t believe in settling down. I live for the moment and then move on. I’m about the worst kind of man for you, so stay clear of me.”

Her embarrassment returned. She pulled free of his light touch and turned away. “No one said anything about commitments,” she mumbled. “I thought we were talking about sex.”

“I doubt you can separate them.”

She spun toward him. “I wouldn’t know that, would I? Just once I would like to meet a single man who would be willing to make love with me. That’s all I want. Just one guy. Everyone else on the planet seems to be having a fine time in bed and I can’t even come close to getting naked.”

She walked to the far side of the room. The vanity drawer just below the mirror was partially open. She slammed it for good measure. While she couldn’t regret the kissing, Rafe’s reaction was taking all the fun out of it. She wasn’t interested in a commitment. Okay, maybe she would be one day. After all she’d always wanted a husband and family. But not yet. Not before she’d actually done the wild thing.

“There’s another, more compelling reason I chose not to give in to lust,” he said casually, as if they were talking about the weather. “I intend to keep my head right where it belongs.”

Zara glanced at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re the daughter of a ruling monarch. Men like the king have a thing against their virgin daughters being defiled. Especially not by the hired help. Punishment is swift and permanent.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s crazy. He wouldn’t cut off your head.”

Rafe shrugged. “If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself.”

With that he turned and headed for her bedroom door.

“They’d cut off his head?” Cleo asked later that afternoon when Zara recounted her conversation with Rafe. “That is so cool!”

Zara hadn’t gone into all the details. In fact she’d left out the most interesting bits. The part about Rafe kissing her and having physical proof of his arousal. She still wasn’t ready to tell that to anyone…not even her sister.

“I don’t think I share your opinion of the information,” Zara said glumly. “I already have trouble getting dates. What’s going to happen when the men I meet find out that the price of having sex with me is death? They’re hardly going to be jumping for joy.”

They were in Cleo’s room, sitting on her bed. A light snack had been delivered by a servant just a few minutes ago, along with a written note from Sabrina, telling them what time to be ready and that they would be escorted to the event. Zara didn’t like the fact that Sabrina had written rather than called. It didn’t bode well for her future relationship with her new half sister. Like she didn’t already have enough problems.

“You don’t have to tell every guy you meet the truth,” Cleo said, then picked up a slice of melon and took a bite.

“If they meet me here, they’re already going to know I’m the king’s daughter.”

Zara fingered a cracker, but found she couldn’t actually eat. Nerves were doing tai chi in her stomach. Between her passionate encounter with Rafe, her trepidation about meeting the rest of her potential family, the formal dinner and Sabrina’s cold shoulder, she found herself wanting to head back to the States and pretend that this had never happened.

“Maybe your run of back luck in the man department is about to change,” Cleo said cheerfully. “It couldn’t get worse.”

“Don’t tempt fate by saying that.” Zara nibbled on the cracker. “I can’t believe how complicated this all is. Rafe also told me that men were going to be interested in me because of my position as Hassan’s daughter.”

“Well, duh.” Cleo shook her head. “You are so unprepared to handle this.”

Zara knew that her sister meant the comment kindly, but it still stung. Sometimes she really hated that Cleo was so “man” experienced. No doubt tonight she would create a sensation. What would it be like to be so incredibly attractive to men? Just once Zara would like to think that someone could find her irresistible, too.

“I’ll have to be careful,” Zara said. “It’s going to be strange not knowing if a man is interested in me for myself or for my connections.” She grimaced. “Actually, I already have that answer. I’ll know exactly what he’s interested in.”

Cleo scooted close and touched her arm. “Zara, you’re too hard on yourself. Just because you’ve picked stupid men in the past doesn’t mean there aren’t dozens of wonderful guys who would think you’re incredible. Because you are. Someday you’re going to meet the right guy and he’s going to knock your socks off and you’re going to make him not care about getting his head chopped off.”

Zara laughed. “Oh, sure. Who would risk death to sleep with me? I couldn’t get anyone to do it before.”

“It’ll happen. You’ll see.”

Zara appreciated Cleo’s support, but didn’t believe a word of it. As for someone knocking off her socks, Rafe had done a darn good job. She’d also aroused him. But apparently not enough. He’d practically left skid marks in his haste to warn her off.

Someone knocked at their door precisely on time. Zara smoothed down the front of the bronze-colored dress she’d slipped into and headed for the door. Marie and her staff had worked magic, nipping and tucking the fabric until the soft folds created the illusion of curves. A strapless padded bra gave her a couple of inches on top.

Nearly an hour and a half before, Renee had arrived with a suitcase full of cosmetics, followed by Eric who did hair. Between the two of them, Zara had been transformed. Her long hair had been piled high on her head in an elaborate style that swept up and around. A servant had brought a diamond tiara, along with several jewelry choices. Cleo had nearly drooled in delight. The sparkling diamonds and sapphires made Zara nervous and as she reached for the door handle, she rubbed her fingers against the diamond drop earrings she’d chosen.

Rafe stood in the hall. He’d changed into a tuxedo, which fitted him perfectly. No doubt his association with a royal family required formal wear.

Her gaze lingered on his handsome face, most especially his mouth. She could instantly recall how his lips felt on hers and the way she’d trembled in his embrace.

Rafe smiled. “You look good.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

She winced as soon as the words passed her lips. Could that have sounded more stupid? But Rafe didn’t say anything to make her feel bad. Instead he stepped into the living room and glanced at his watch.

“We have to be at the reception anteroom in ten minutes.”

“If that’s a comment about me being late, you can forget it,” Cleo said breezily. “I’m hardly the kind of girl to be late for her first chance to meet real, live handsome princes.”

Cleo glided into the room, her eyes bright with humor and anticipation. Zara had been caught up in wondering if anyone she knew had ever actually been in an “anteroom” when she registered her sister’s appearance.

On the one hand, she’d meant what she’d said about Cleo’s beauty keeping people distracted so they wouldn’t notice anything else. On the other hand, she felt like the country mouse come to town.

Cleo’s cobalt-blue dress clung to every luscious curve, no padding required. The shimmering fabric caught the light, reflecting and dazzling as Cleo’s breasts strained to the point of threatening to spill out. It wasn’t enough of a display to be in bad taste, but it was enough that men were going to be catching their breath in private expectation.

Eric had styled Cleo’s short hair into soft curls that framed her round face. Sapphire and diamond earrings decorated her ear lobes, while a matching bracelet glittered around her wrist.

Zara waited uncomfortably for Rafe to fall under her sister’s spell, but after a brief word of greeting, he turned away from Cleo and motioned for the door.

“If you ladies are ready?”

Could he really not be attracted to Cleo? Zara remembered his arousal and felt a thrill of excitement. Had she finally found a man who was interested in her for her? Then she reminded herself that Rafe wasn’t interested in her at all. He’d made it completely clear that he didn’t do relationships.

He held out an arm to each of them. Cleo instantly snuggled close, while Zara felt slightly awkward as he escorted them down the hall.

Her sister laughed. “Rafe, you’re armed.”

“I’m cautious.”

Cleo looked around him. “Zara, the man takes his job seriously. You might want to remind your watch-dog here that you wouldn’t object to a man asking you to dance. Or is that a security breach?”

“Zara is free to do as she wishes,” Rafe said calmly.

“Oh, I see. As long as she can do it with you watching.” Cleo raised her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t have taken you for that kind of guy. Somehow you strike me as someone who wants to be in the middle of the action, not standing on the sidelines observing.”

Zara knew that Cleo didn’t mean anything by her conversation. She didn’t know about the kiss so she couldn’t see how embarrassing her comments were. Still Zara wished there was some way to change the subject. But before she could try anything, they turned a corner and entered the anteroom.

Over a dozen people stood in small groups, chatting with the ease of those who know each other well. The moment the three of them entered the arched doorway, the room went completely silent. Zara found herself the uncomfortable center of attention.