No, she told herself. You don’t care. You haven’t cared in four years.
She had to focus, had to concentrate on what he was saying rather than on what he was doing. She could not lose her perspective here. “What’s the other thing?”
His eyes glittered and one corner of his mouth lifted in what could only be termed a self-satisfied smile. “I have to kiss you, Emily.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SHOCK RIPPLED THROUGH her like a wave. It was quickly followed by a pang of heat and longing that nearly took her breath away. Kadir pulled her more firmly against his body, and then his head dipped toward hers. She closed her eyes automatically, her heart hammering so hard she was going to be dizzy.
Kadir was going to kiss her. Her boss for the past four years, the man she’d served across continents and time zones without one single moment of inappropriateness, was about to kiss her.
Just like he’d kissed Lenore Bradford yesterday and a million other women before her. Emily had watched the revolving door of his life for far too long. She’d seen the women come and go. She’d walked many of them to the door herself as they clutched their handbags. Half the time with their wadded-up panty hose trailing from their purses as they took the walk of shame.
She’d witnessed it and, if she was honest with herself, she’d been utterly judgmental. What kind of idiot woman got herself involved with a playboy sheikh? Oh, she knew what they all thought. What they hoped. That they were the one. The one he would marry and make into his princess.
Sure, some of them just wanted sex, the same as he did. And that was fine. She didn’t pity those women, the ones who knew what they wanted and what they were getting.
The majority, however, were the other kind. The dreamers and schemers and hopefuls.
And she was not about to become one of them.
Emily shoved against his chest. His grip immediately eased and she stepped backward, out of his grasp. Her chest rose and fell as if she’d run a marathon. She wrapped her arms around herself, embarrassed at the effect he was having, and moved farther away.
Her wineglass was waiting on the table, so she picked it up and took a gulp. Then she faced him again. He looked oddly on edge, like a tiger waiting to pounce.
“No kissing,” she said hoarsely.
“I’m afraid that is a condition I cannot accept.” He sounded so cool, so calm, as if touching her hadn’t meant a thing to him. Which, of course, it hadn’t. His pulse wasn’t racing like hers. His breath wasn’t a struggle. She was simply another female to him.
“You have to.”
He shook his head, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Impossible, Emily. I can hardly be besotted with a wife I never kiss, now can I? Besides, you have already agreed. You cannot change the terms of the agreement afterward. That is bad business.”
She clutched the wineglass like a lifeline. She knew he was right, but dammit, why hadn’t she thought of it before? Why hadn’t she made it a condition?
Because it’s stupid, that’s why. Because he’s paying you to be his wife, and husbands kiss their wives.
“Fine, you can kiss me. But only in public. Only when it’s necessary for the illusion. No touching in private. No kissing either.”