The Sheikh Takes A Bride. Caroline Cross

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СКАЧАТЬ passed between them—his sudden attention, his insistence they dance, that surprising revelation about his father. And for the first time she let herself wonder just what was prompting his uncharacteristic behavior. It couldn’t possibly be because she was the future wife he’d “settled” on. Could it?

      Of course not. The very idea was ludicrous. Not only didn’t she care for him, she barely knew him, any more than he knew her. And yet, why else would he be looking at her as if she were a prime piece of real estate he’d decided to acquire?

      The waltz ended. Determined to make an escape, she looked around, relief flooding her as she spied her cousin, the king, standing alone a few feet away.

      “Daniel!” Forcing a smile to her lips, she took a step back the instant Kaj loosened his grip and hastened to her cousin’s side, linking her arm with his. “What luck to find you!”

      Clearly startled, Daniel tore his attention from his wife, who was threading her way through the crowd, apparently headed for the powder room, and turned to look at her. “Catherine. Is everything all right?” Concern lit his jade-green eyes.

      “Yes, yes, of course. It’s simply that I was dancing, and then I saw you and realized I’d forgotten to tell you I talked to your mother earlier and she’d like me to visit Chicago soon since Alexandra has asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.”

      A frown knit her relation’s sandy eyebrows. Catherine felt an embarrassed flush rise to her cheeks since she was fairly certain his distress was caused by her rapid-fire statement, rather than the reminder of his sister’s recent engagement to Connelly Corporation executive Robert Marsh.

      But all he said was, “I see.” Before he could comment further, he caught sight of Kaj, his frown disappearing as a welcoming smile lit his face. “Al bin Russard. How nice to see you again.”

      “Your Majesty.”

      “I take it you’re the one responsible for my cousin’s rather breathless state?”

      “I believe I am,” Kaj said easily.

      To Catherine’s disbelief, the two exchanged one of those men-of-the-world looks she always found totally irritating. She drew herself up, gathering what was left of her dignity around her like a cloak. “I really do need to talk to you, Daniel.”

      “Right.” With an apologetic smile for the other man, he said, “If you’ll excuse us, then?”

      Just as Catherine had hoped, Kaj had no choice but to take his leave. With impeccable manners, he tendered the pair of them a bow. “Of course, Your Highness.” He shifted his gaze to Catherine. “Princess, thank you for the dance. I look forward to seeing you again.”

      Not if she could help it, Catherine vowed. With a flick of her head, she turned her back, dismissing him. Sheikh Kaj al bin Russard might not know it yet, but as of this moment she had every intention of excluding him from her life like the unwelcome intruder he was.

      Two

      “What are you doing here?” Catherine demanded from the doorway of the palace’s family dining room.

      For all its elegant spaciousness, the room suddenly seemed far smaller than normal, due to the presence of Kaj al bin Russard. The sheikh sat at the far side of the gleaming satinwood table, his suit coat discarded, the sleeves of his white dress shirt folded back, a newspaper in his powerful hands. At the sound of her voice, he looked up. “Princess. How nice to see you.”

      Catherine stared at him, clenching her teeth against a sudden urge to scream. Taken aback by her reaction, she struggled to rein in her emotions, assuring herself her extreme response to him was merely the result of surprise, frustration and a poor night’s sleep. Add to that her worry about her favorite gelding who’d turned up lame this morning, a meeting with her secretary that had run long so that she needed to hurry to avoid being late for an engagement in town, and it was no wonder the unexpected sight of the sheikh made her feel a little crazy.

      “That’s a matter of opinion,” she retorted, watching warily as he pushed back his chair and rose politely to his feet.

      “I suppose it is,” he said calmly.

      She refused to acknowledge the way her pulse stuttered as he stood gilded by the sunlight that filled the room or how she once again felt the force of his masculinity. She’d made her decision about him, and the long hours she’d spent in bed last night tossing and turning, bedeviled by an unfamiliar restlessness, had only strengthened her conviction that he was best avoided.

      “I believe I asked you a question,” Catherine said. “What are you doing here?” Last night circumstances had compelled her to be on her best behavior, but she saw no reason for false pleasantry today.

      His gaze swept over her and a faint frown marred his handsome features. “Are you always this tense?”

      Oh! She struggled for self-control. “Sheikh al bin Russard, this area of the palace is off-limits to everyone but family. I would suggest that you leave. Now. Before I’m forced to call security.”

      A faint, chiding smile curved his sensual mouth but otherwise he didn’t move so much as an inch. “You really must work on your temper, chaton. And not be so quick to jump to conclusions. As it happens, I had a meeting with the king this morning. When it concluded, he was kind enough to invite me to lunch. Regretfully, something came up and he had to leave, but not before he assured me there was no reason for me to rush through my meal.”

      An embarrassed flush rose in her cheeks. Stubbornly she ignored it. Daniel wasn’t here now and she was. As for the sheikh, he might be fooling everyone else with his designer suits and civilized manner, but she hadn’t forgotten the way he’d looked at her last night. Beneath that polished exterior she sensed something intense and formidable, and she wasn’t about to lower her guard.

      She glanced pointedly at the table, which was bare except for the paper and an empty cup and saucer. “I see. Well, it appears you’ve finished, so don’t let me keep you.”

      “Actually, I was about to have some more coffee.” He moseyed over to the sideboard and lifted the heavy silver coffeepot off the warming plate, then turned to her, his expression the picture of politeness. “May I get you a cup?”

      For half a second, she considered simply turning on her heel and walking away. Except that she was hungry, since she’d skipped last night’s midnight buffet in order to avoid a certain interloper and she’d long since burned off the tea and croissant she’d had in her room at dawn.

      She was also certain that if she left now, the sheikh would no doubt conclude it was because of him—and her pride wouldn’t allow that. He was already too arrogant by half.

      Squaring her shoulders, she strode around the table to the opposite end of the sideboard. “No. Thank you.”

      “As you wish.” He poured a stream of steaming brew into his cup and set down the pot. He turned, but instead of returning to the table, he stayed where he was.

      She felt his gaze touch her like a warm breeze. And for a moment everything around her—the ivory silk brocade wallpaper, the richly patterned rug beneath her feet, the soothing gurgle of the garden fountain beyond the open windows—seemed to fade as her skin prickled and an unfamiliar warmth blossomed low in her stomach. Appalled, she gave herself a mental shake and tried to convince herself СКАЧАТЬ