Beauty and the Sheikh(11)

Nearly struck dumb by how convincing an appearance Holly was putting on, Rafiq allowed an intimate smile onto his face as he stared down at her. But not for one moment did he convince himself Holly ever had, or ever would, care for him.

She’d been as skilled an actress then as she was today.

“And I enjoy the way you make your amends.” He lifted her hand and traced her knuckles.

Her cheeks filled prettily with color and he heard the hitch in her breathing, but her eyes held the faintest bit of resentment when she met his gaze.

The clearing of a throat had them both turning back to Andrew, who was watching them both closely but with less skepticism.

“You’re serious then?” Andrew pressed on almost hopefully, his gaze darting between the two of them. “You haven’t just struck some deal with the guy for my benefit, have you, Holly?”

Her fingers clenched around Rafiq’s but she gave a small, easygoing laugh. “Please, Andrew. That would be ridiculous. It’s not like you to be so dramatic.”

“So, that’s it?” Andrew asked with obvious confusion. “You’re just letting me go? Why would you do that?”

“Because you mean the world to your sister, and she means a good deal to me. You were a free man when you left the jail hours ago, Mr. Gray,” Rafiq said impassively. “My condition for you remains the same, however.”

Holly stiffened and cast an accusing glance up at him. “What condition?”

Andrew’s expression pinched. “The Sheikh requires that I seek treatment for what he feels is a gambling problem I have.”

“I’ve already spoken with a clinic in London. One of my guards will accompany you on the plane and escort you to the location.”

“Is this really necessary?” Holly pleaded. “Surely—”

“Yes, Holly, it’s quite necessary.” Rafiq cast her a warning glance that held enough of a threat to make her back down.

And she did, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth and lowering her gaze. Still, her compliance did little to ease the irritation that had swelled within him.

“Your flight leaves soon, Mr. Gray. Please take a moment to say goodbye to Holly, and then we must be on our way shortly as well.”



Holly’s stomach twisted at Rafiq’s words. On their way? Where were they going? Or had he just said that to force the reunion with her brother short?

Knowing she only had a moment left with Andrew, she slipped from Rafiq’s hold and crossed to her brother once more.

He hugged her and sighed. “I really screwed up this time, sis. I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes stung with tears but she blinked them back. She couldn’t argue with him. He’d screwed up, and now she was going to pay the price by exchanging his freedom for her own.

After her brother had been shown out a few minutes later, the silence in the room was almost deafening.

“You’re sending him to some kind of rehab clinic?” she finally asked, turning to face Rafiq.

The way he leaned against one of the marble columns in the foyer was almost predatory. His narrowed gaze showed little indications of his thoughts, but she knew he wasn’t pleased at her questioning his decision now, any more than he had been when she’d done so with her brother in the room. “The clinic is quite discreet, and has an impeccable reputation. It seems your brother is overdue for an intervention.”

Her fists clenched. “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge him. He’s not perfect, but since the day a police officer showed up at our door telling us our parents were killed in plane crash, Andrew raised me. He gave up everything for me and any hope of a college education.”

“Perhaps. But I have to wonder, what kind of brother allows his younger sister to prostitute her body for money?”

Holly felt the blood drain from her face at his crude depiction of her career, but it came back quickly in a flush of angry heat once she got over the shock. “Prostitute?” she repeated harshly. “I was modeling. Perhaps you should look up the term if you need refreshing.”

He gave an offhanded shrug, as if the topic already bored him. “You sold your body—whether physically or for imagery—for money, habiba.”

“We had very little income. The life insurance was spent—”

“By your brother, no doubt.”

She ignored his thinly veiled accusation. “Modeling was a perfectly respectable means of earning an income. I have to wonder what kind of primitive, narrow-minded world you live in, Your Majesty, to think otherwise.”

"Interesting you’ve gone back on your oath not to call me by my title. I wonder what other promises you will break." Amusement warred with the hard glint in his eyes as he straightened from the column and approached her.

You pushed him too far, Holly.

A shiver of unease skated down her spine, because she knew he was referring to her promise never to sleep with him.

Each step closer he took toward her echoed with the furious pounding of her heart, but she refused to back up and give him any sense of pleasure in knowing his effect on her.

“And as to what kind of world I live in? As I have said, it is a world quite different from your own, Holly, and you’d do well to remember that.” He lifted a few strands of hair that had curled over her shoulder and teased them over the swell of her breasts.

Shock ripped through her, holding her motionless even as her nipples tightened beneath her blouse. She jerked back, ignoring the sting of her hair being tugged. “I hate you, Rafiq.”

“Do you? Because loathing and desire can be easily confused.” Rafiq slid his arm around her waist, stopping her when she would’ve turned away.

Her heart slammed into her ribcage and her mouth dried out. Oh God, how could her body react like this? How could it traitorously crave the touch of this manipulative, cruel man?

His knowing gaze slid over her, lingering on the thrust of her nipples, and more heat flooded her face.

“I think you want to hate me.” His head dipped and his mouth hovered above hers. “How could you not after I humiliated you that day?”

“Thank you for the reminder—one of many—of why I despise you,” she seethed.

“How often have you done it?” he prodded, touching her cheek with the back of two fingers. “How often were you willing to trade that delectable body of yours to gain something you wanted?”

He wouldn’t believe her if she said never. He always assumed the worst about her, and his words could cut deep enough to leave scars on her heart.

It made her reckless. Made her want to hurt him back, or at least hurt his pride.

“Whenever I needed to,” she replied carelessly. “So if you thought you were special…”

Shock flickered briefly in his eyes, and then his gaze hardened with cold fury. “No. I was never foolish enough to make that mistake.”

The surprising flatness in his tone made her conscience prickle with guilt, with regret. She shouldn’t have said it. It was basically an admission of culpability. But he already assumed the worst anyway, had refused to listen to her try to explain that day.

He would never believe in her innocence, probably assumed because she was a top model she’d slept with dozens of men. How would he react if he knew the truth? That Holly Winchester, once an in-demand fashion model, was a twenty-three year old virgin.

Oh, she knew exactly how he’d react. He’d likely laugh himself silly.

But as ludicrous as it seemed, it was the truth. In high school she hadn’t felt ready to be intimate with anyone, and she’d gone straight from school into the world of modeling. The change had been so terrifying and overwhelming, she’d never once been able to trust someone enough to go to bed with him. Had never even felt the hum of desire that could make her even consider it.

Until that week with Rafiq. He’d made her believe in the butterflies in the tummy, Prince Charming, and happily ever after. Then he’d shown his true colors.

As she watched, Rafiq’s lips curled in disgust, and then he released her so abruptly she was left feeling strangely bereft.

“I hope you didn’t unpack your bags, because we leave in the morning.”

Holly shook her head to gather her composure again. So he hadn’t thrown that comment out to Andrew lightly. “Where are we going?”

“Monaco. I have business there for the next few days.”

“And you expect me to go with you? Surely I can stay here and—”

“You will go where I go. The agreement was that you would pose as my mistress, and we must introduce you to the media sooner rather than later. Monaco will provide ample opportunity.”

Each word was a nail in the coffin that held her future. “So that’s it, then? You’re going to parade me around Europe to be photographed as your latest plaything?”

“Yes.” He watched her from beneath hooded eyes. “That’s exactly it, habiba.”