Reading Online Novel

A Reputation For Revenge(33)



“How lovely,” she said, looking around them. “I never would have thought a table could be brought up here. It’s enchanting....”

“Yes,” he said in a low voice, looking at her. “Enchanting.”

Their eyes locked in the deepening twilight, and spirals of electricity traveled down Josie’s body to her toes, centering on her breasts and a place low and deep in her belly. Looking at the hard angles of his chiseled face, she felt uneasy. She suddenly wanted to lean across the table, to touch and stroke the rough dark stubble of his jawline, to run both her hands through his wind-tousled black hair....

What was she thinking? Nervously, she looked down at the flickering lanterns that surrounded the carpet. She was relieved to see four servants with platters of food coming up the path illuminated by torches in the dusk.

“I’ve ordered a special dinner tonight that I hope you’ll enjoy,” her captor said softly. “Would you care for some white wine?”

She gulped. “Sure,” she said, trying to seem blasé, as if drinking wine in the Sahara with billionaire princes was something she did every day. Oh, good heavens. With her billionaire prince husband.

Pouring wine from a pitcher into a crystal-and-gold goblet, he handed it to her. Smoothly, she lifted it to her lips. She didn’t much like the smell, but she took a big drink anyway.

Then she sputtered, and nearly choked. Making a face, she pulled the glass away from her lips.

“Don’t you like it?” Kasimir asked in surprise.

“Like it?” She blurted out. “It tastes like juice that’s gone bad!”

He laughed, shaking his head. “But Josie, that’s exactly what wine is.” He tilted his head, giving her a boyish grin. “Though I don’t think the St. Raphaël winery will be using those exact words in their ads anytime soon. No wine, huh?”#p#分页标题#e#

“I didn’t like it.”

“I never would have guessed. You hide your emotions so well.”

For an instant, they smiled at each other, and Josie’s heart suddenly twisted in her chest. Then, turning away, he lifted his hand in signal. “I’ll get you something you’ll like better.”

He spoke in another language—Berber?—to one of the servants, and the man left. After serving their dinner, the other three, too, departed, leaving Kasimir and Josie to enjoy a private dinner in the Sahara, beneath the shadows of red twilight.

“Ooh.” Looking down at the table, Josie saw a traditional Moroccan dinner, full of things she loved: tajine, a zesty saffron-and-cumin-flavored chicken stew—pickled lemons and olives, carrot salad sprinkled with orange-flower water and cinnamon and couscous with vegetables. She sighed with pleasure. “You have no idea how often I ate at the Moroccan restaurant, trying to imagine what it would be like to travel here.”

“How often?”

“Every time I got my hands on a half-off lunch coupon.”

He grinned at her, then the smile slid from his face. His expression grew serious.

“So,” he said in a low voice, “does that mean you forgive me? For bringing you here?”

She looked in shock at the vulnerability in his eyes. Something had changed in him somehow, she thought. The warm, generous man sitting across from her in exotic Moroccan garb seemed very different from the cold tycoon in a black suit she’d met in Hawaii. Had the desert really made him so different? Or was it just that she knew too much about the man behind the suit?

“I don’t like that you lied to me about Bree,” she said slowly. “Or that you brought me out here against my will. But,” she sighed, taking a bite of the tajine as she looked at the sunset, “at the moment it’s a little hard for me to be angry.”

He swallowed. Reaching across the table, he briefly took her hand. “Thank you.”

She shivered as their eyes met. Then he released her as the servant returned with a samovar of filigreed metal. He left it on the table in front of Kasimir, then disappeared.

“What’s that?” Josie said, eyeing it nervously.

He smiled. “You’ll enjoy it more than wine. Trust me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’d enjoy anything more than that,” she confessed.

“It’s mint tea.”

“Oh,” she sighed in pleasure. She watched him pour a cup of fragrant, steaming hot tea. “This is kind of like a honeymoon, you know.”

He froze. “What do you mean?”

“The bath with rose petals. This wonderful dinner. The two of us, in Morocco. It’s like something out of a romantic movie. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought...”