Pursued by the Desert Prince(19)

"Her actions deserve to be judged. I look like a fool. If you had had an  actual affair with that man last year, I wouldn't care." That was a  small lie, but he would be able to convince himself he didn't care. "The  fact you've been photographed with both of us in the same week makes  all three of us look bad."

"We're all going to have to grin and bear it, aren't we?"

"No," he told her sternly. "You warned me about attention. You didn't  say your sister would ridicule me. I will give her the chance to come  clean. If she doesn't, I will make the completely true statement that  you were with me in London all of last weekend."

"No!" Her fists hit the air next to her thighs, arms straight and angry. "Don't do that to her."

"I didn't take the photographs, Angelique. She's bringing this on herself!"

"It could do so much damage, you can't even comprehend." She paced with  agitation across the lounge. "The press was horrible to her for years  after the kidnapping, printing every lurid scrap, fact or fiction, on  what happened while she was captive. True or not, those things assaulted  her every time, victimizing her again and again. Then, as if that  wasn't bad enough, they called her unstable and a drug addict and fat.  She was barely a stone heavier than me, but there was this magnifying  glass on her so she couldn't buy a stick of gum without it being a cry  for help, or a sign she was suicidal... It drove her to go the other  way, until she was underweight and we were scared she would disappear  completely. I'll tell you, if anything is designed to break a person's  spirit, it's that sort of relentless, vicious criticism."         

     



 

She paused to take a few panting breaths. Her face contorted in a wince of distant memory.

"Then, after my father's funeral... I guess we finally looked like young  women by then. It's not like we were dressed for clubbing, you know,  but photos circulated of us at the service and men stalked both of us  online after that, saying the most disgusting things. Sending us-" She  waved a hand toward her crotch. "Those sorts of pics. It was even worse  for Trella. She knew what men like that are capable of." Her voice broke  on the last words, eyes haunted.

"Angelique," he breathed, and started toward her.

She bent to unfasten her shoes and kick them away, then kept moving,  restless with heightened emotion, dress swirling like a cape each time  she turned.

"She started having panic attacks because of it. That is not public  knowledge." She pointed at him as though warning him not to speak of it.  Then she whirled away again. "She was terrified all the time. It was  horrible for her. For all of us. It was like watching someone who is  depressed to the point of being suicidal, or in chronic pain, and  listening to them scream. You can't do anything except sit there and  watch. She spent, God, a good two years stoned on medications, trying to  get it under control. Finally she left the public eye and it took a  while, but she was able to stabilize. That was so hard-won, none of us  rocks the boat. We don't want to throw her off again."

She hugged herself, gaze fixed on the past.

"For years, one of us has always been with her, never farther than the  next room. We all know it's not healthy. We want a normal life for her.  Our version of normal, anyway," she muttered, then waved with  exasperation toward the guards in the hall.

"Even Trella is balking at how she lives. I just asked her how this  happened and she told me she feels like she's been doing time on a  prison sentence for a crime she didn't commit. What did she do wrong,  Kasim? Are her kidnappers half so tortured? They might be in jail, but  have they suffered one-tenth as much as she has? And even through all of  what she has faced, she tries."

Her eyes were wet and gleaming. She was visibly shaking with intense emotion, making his heart feel pinched and tight.

"She's been trying so hard to get over all her mental blocks. She flew  to Paris alone. You have no idea what a big deal that was for her. And  then, when she realized you and I were keeping out of the spotlight and I  was expected at that dinner, she stole the chance to go out as me. To  see how she felt going out alone. It was a spur-of-the moment thing,  which is exactly like her when she's at her best. In certain ways this  is such thrilling news."

She began pacing again, her dress flaring around her as she pivoted, but halted to press a hand to her brow.

"Not the part where she went home with a stranger, of course. I asked  her how that happened, but she didn't want to talk about it, only  apologized for not telling him who she really was. My brothers are going  to kill me for not being there to stop her."

Kasim folded his arms, observing drily, "She took acting like you to the highest level, didn't she?"

Angelique jerked her head up, eyes narrowed with antipathy. "I had dinner with you first!"

They hadn't even finished their drinks, let alone started on the appetizers, but okay.

"That has to be me in those photos, Kasim. If the press gets wind that  it was her..." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Trella is a tiny  baby sea turtle making her way to the water. If we can just give her  time to get there before unleashing the crabs and gulls..."

He snorted. "Laying it on pretty thick, aren't you?"

"What do you want me to say? That it's okay if you traumatize my sister  by causing the hell of public attention to rain down on her again? It's  not."

"What do you want me to say? That it's okay if the world thinks you've slept with both of us? It's not."

"Who cares so long as you're the one in this room with me tonight? Or,  wait, am I invited to stay in the room I booked for myself?"

He scowled. "Don't get bent out of shape about that. I don't book weekends with women then ask them to foot the bill."

"I see. That's interesting." She gave a considering nod, shoulders  setting in a stiff line. "You realize that by mentioning these legions  of other women for whom you have paid hotel bills, you're saying it's  okay that you have a past, but not me. Is that what you were doing this  week, by the way? When you were not texting me? Paying for hotel rooms  with other women? Just because no one returned a cuff link downstairs  doesn't mean you weren't making a fool of me, but do you hear me  complaining? No. Because I'm well aware we haven't made any commitments  to each other-"         

     



 

"Enough," he cut in. "I paid for the room because I will put up with  your pain-in-the-ass security protocols, but you will stay in my room. I  will not ask permission from your guards to enter. As for the photos, I  don't want people to think that's you because I'm jealous. All right?  Is that what you need to hear?"

Her shoulders went back, but he could see he had finally pulled her out of her own interests into theirs.

"Which I might have hesitated to admit if you weren't acting like a  green-eyed shrew yourself. No, Angelique, I was not sleeping with other  women. I was working. Nonstop. So I could come here and be with you.  Future or not, we are damned well exclusive to one another until we're  over. Is that clear? Now, go warn your sister I won't be so forgiving if  she does this to me again."

The line of her mouth softened. "You're not going to expose her?"

"Do I look like someone who takes pleasure in feeding baby sea turtles to the gulls?"

She threw herself at him.





CHAPTER EIGHT

ANGELIQUE GLIMPSED THE velvet box on the romantically set table when she arrived at Kasim's Paris penthouse.

She was getting to know him very well, but wouldn't have pegged him as a  man who celebrated a one-month anniversary. His sentimentalism touched  her. It told her he valued what they had as deeply as she did.

"We're staying in tonight?" she asked as she kissed him without even taking off her jacket or setting down her purse.

He had already shed his suit jacket and tasted faintly of Scotch  and...tension? He lingered over their kiss, drawing it out with a quest  for her response, waiting until they were both breathless and hot before  drawing back.

"Do you mind?"

"No." She tossed her purse toward the sofa then hugged her arms around  his waist again. Nestled her mons into his hardness, pleased with the  evidence his desire wasn't letting up any more than hers. "It's been a  long week. I missed you. I'd rather have you all to myself."

"Me, too." His voice was sincere, but...off. He started to pull her into another kiss.

She hesitated. "Are you angry?"

A flash in his eyes, then, "Not at you."

He combed his fingers into her hair and gently pinned her head back, so  her neck was arched, her chin tilted up for the press of his damp lips.  The stamp of hot kisses went down her throat, making her skin tighten  and tingle.

"And you can't talk about it so you want to forget it. Perhaps I can  help with that," she allowed with another press of her hips into his  groin. It was her cross to bear that she was the lover of a man with  great responsibilities.