Pursued by the Desert Prince(5)

Maison des Jumeaux wasn't exclusive because it was expensive-although it  was obscenely so. No, their clothes were coveted because she and Trella  were extremely selective about the clients they took on, always  protecting their own privacy first. Gossipy socialites didn't even get  an appointment, let alone an original ball gown with a hand-sewn  signature label.

"Sadiq only prevailed on our friendship to ask that we accept her as a  client, but of course we wanted to do it and of course we wouldn't  charge him. He wanted to pay. I think the only reason he's letting us  get away with not charging is because it's really Hasna who benefits,  not him. For Trella, it's a way to repay Sadiq herself. It's very  important to all of us, for her sake, that she be allowed to do that."

It was part of her sister's healing process. Attending the wedding had  become a goal Trella was determined to achieve, come hell or high water.         

     



 

"Is your sister having an affair with him?"

"That's what you got from everything I just said? No! And neither is my  mother, before you go there. Family money paid for the materials and  Trella and I are doing the work. This isn't a buy off or an attempt to  hold something over Sadiq. We're contributing to his special day in the  way that makes him happiest. That's all."

He pondered that with a raspy scrape of his bent fingers beneath his jaw.

"You still don't believe me?" What on earth would it take?

"How did he help solve the kidnapping? How old was he? Fifteen?  Sixteen?" His voice was thick with skepticism. "How well did he even  know your family? I understood he only went to Switzerland when he began  prepping for university."

"I trust this conversation won't leave this room? Because the police  asked us to keep it confidential and we always have. We never speak  publicly about the kidnapping because there are many details we wish to  keep private."

"Of course," he muttered testily, as though he was insulted she would question his integrity.

"You know Sadiq is a bit of a computer whiz? Well, the internet was  quite young and few tools had been developed for online sleuthing. It  probably wouldn't even be legal now, the kind of hacking he'd done, but  who cares? We have him to thank for Trella's return. And you're right  that he only knew of us. We weren't friends yet. He was in a few classes  with my brothers, but when Trella was taken, he was on the steps beside  Ramon. He saw it happen and was horrified. He wanted to help and used  his own time, hours and hours I might add, to create software code that  produced a lead that panned out for the police. If you want more  information, you can take it up with Sadiq."

The truth was, Sadiq was a security specialist. He'd merely been a nerd  with a passion at that time, but now it was his private  business-literally his confidential side job that she only knew about  because her family had introduced him to the man who had the contract  for their own security. She didn't know if even Hasna was aware that  Sadiq wrote code for Tec-Sec Industries.

"There aren't many people we trust unequivocally, but Sadiq is one of  them. He didn't do us a favor. He saved my sister's life. So if he wants  me to make dresses for your sister for the rest of my life, I will.  Happily. Without checking with you first."





CHAPTER THREE

KASIM HADN'T EXPECTED her to admit outright that she had had an affair  with Sadiq, but he hadn't expected an explanation like this, either. It  shed an entirely different light on things. He couldn't help but believe  her.

Of course, she had done her best to scramble his brain with that kiss, so he forced himself to proceed cautiously.

"I'll allow that Sadiq is what the Americans call a geek.' He is very  modest and I've seen that do-good streak. He always seems sincere in his  kindness toward Hasna. I can believe he would take it upon himself to  help a stranger's family. But I will check this with him," he warned.

"Be my guest!"

Sadiq would back her story regardless. It was a far more tasteful  explanation than admitting he'd had an affair with her. It was more  tasteful to him, Kasim acknowledged darkly.

"I may have to relay some of this to my parents." He was sorry now that  his mother knew anything about this. She had already used the waiving of  payment to stir up his father, basking in the importance of being the  one to inform the king that there might be a scandal attached to their  daughter's wedding. She could easily have put the wedding itself in  jeopardy in her quest for her husband's attention, ever in competition  with the king's consort, Fatina.

It was exhausting and, given his father's blood pressure and enlarged  heart, Kasim expected his mother to show more sense. It was almost as if  she was trying to provoke a heart attack. Maybe she was. Hell hath no  fury, as the saying went, but at least he could defuse her latest damage  with this information.

"If that's what it takes to keep both our sisters from suffering  profound disappointment, fine," Angelique said stiffly, rising. "I trust  they will also keep that information confidential."

"They will," he promised, brushing aside politics at home as he realized she was trying to kick him out.

He wasn't ready to leave.

His mind had barely left their kiss. The way she had responded like a boxer coming into a ring had been exhilarating.

"Have dinner with me," he said.

"Pah! Are you serious?" She blinked her mossy eyes at him. "Why?"         

     



 

It was a completely singular reaction. Women cozied up to him and begged for an invitation to dine with him.

"We have more to talk about."

"Like?"

He dropped his gaze to the pink-stained tissue crumpled on her desk.

She blushed, but it wasn't all embarrassment. There was memory there,  too. One that made her flush into her chest. The knowledge she was  growing aroused again stimulated all the latent signals of his own  desire.

Angelique looked away. "That was a mistake."

"It was an effective distraction," he allowed.

Her gaze flashed back to his. "That was not what I was trying to do."

He shrugged. "Nevertheless, it put certain possibilities on the table."  He was already imagining that same explosive passion colliding on silk  sheets. Or this desk she stood behind.

"I can't," she dismissed crisply.

"Why not?" A thought struck. "Are you in a relationship?" He tensed, dismayed.

"I wouldn't have kissed you if I was, would I?"

"I don't know." He relaxed, starting to enjoy that pique of hers. It put  a pretty glow in her eyes and revealed the intoxicating passion he'd  tasted on her lips. "This is why we should have dinner. So we can get to  know one another."

"Are you in a relationship?" she shot back.

"No." He scowled, not used to anyone asking questions so direct and personal.

She relaxed slightly, but her brow quickly crinkled in consternation.  "Do you want to talk more about Sadiq? You still don't believe me?"

"I want to go on a date, Angelique. I would think that was obvious."

"A date."

How could that take her aback? She actually retreated a half step. Her  brows gave a surprised twitch, then, oddly, she looked uncertain. She  dropped her gaze to her desktop. Bashful?

"I rarely date."

"Then it should be a treat to have dinner with me."

She laughed, which might have been offensive if she didn't have such a  pretty, engaging laugh. Her enjoyment was genuine and thorough. At his  expense.

"I won't apologize." She held up a hand as she noted the way he folded  his arms and set his teeth. "It wasn't your conceit that got to me so  much as the painful truth of that remark. You have no idea."

Conceit? He'd been stating a fact.

She ran a fingertip beneath her eye, smile lingering.

"In gratitude for that exceptionally good chuckle, I'll spare you some  pain. I attract a lot of attention. I'm really not worth the trouble to  take out. I know this because I've been told so more than once." Her  amusement faded to something more sincere. Resigned. Maybe even a tad  wistful and hurt.

He started to say they could dine alone at his penthouse, then recalled  his Paris residence was overrun by his mother and sisters and assorted  female relatives.

"Your place then," he said.

She shook her head, but there seemed to be some regret there. "Trella  counts on certain spaces being kept private and our flat here is one of  them."

That devotion to her sister kept getting to him. The second nature of it. He understood it very well and had to like her for it.

"Dining in public it is, then."

She grew very grave. "I'm serious, Kasim. My sort of notoriety is a punishment. You would be tarred as my lover overnight."

"Since I intend to spend the night with you, where is the harm?"

"Do you?" she scoffed, flushing with indignation. And stirred sensuality.