Desert Affair. Kate Walker

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      ‘OH, WOW!’

      Lydia didn’t even try to hide her amazement as she turned in a slow, stunned circle, staring unreservedly at everything around her.

      ‘This is just amazing! Is it really all yours?’

      When Amir had spoken of his apartment, she had known from his clothes and the fact that he had been in the VIP lounge that he wouldn’t live in a small, shabby couple of rooms like those she had just left behind in Leicester. And the sight of his car and the waiting uniformed driver who had leapt from his seat to open the door for them had increased that certainty one hundredfold. But she had never anticipated anything like this.

      The huge penthouse apartment would have swallowed up her small flat twenty times or more and still had room to spare. The high ceilings and huge windows gave an impression of air and space, and beyond the plate glass the brilliant night skyline of London glittered even through the raging snowstorm. Rich furnishings, heavy silk brocaded curtains and thick, thick carpets in all the tones of gold from the palest clotted cream to a deep dark bronze meant that the room appeared warm and welcoming in spite of the unpleasantness of the night. And to add to the sense of comfort, a bright fire burned in the wide hearth.

      ‘Actually it’s my father’s. His taste is rather more ornate than mine.’

      The sweep of his hand indicated the enormous, brilliantly sparkling chandeliers, the marble fireplace.

      ‘But I have the use of it when I’m in London.’

      ‘And who is your father?’ Lydia was intrigued.

      The sudden change in his face told her that once more she’d overstepped those invisible barriers, an unnerving glint in his dark eyes warning her to back off—fast.

      Behind them, a small, discreet cough alerted them to the silent, stocky figure of the chauffeur standing just inside the doorway, still holding Lydia’s hand luggage, which he had carried up in the lift with them.

      ‘Oh, thank you!’ she said impulsively, moving to take it from him, but the man’s attention was fixed on Amir.

      ‘Will that be all, Highness?’ he asked. ‘Or is there anything more you will want tonight.’

      ‘Nothing.’ Amir’s tone was dismissive. ‘If the weather clears, I will need you to drive Miss Ashton back to the airport tomorrow, but I’ll let you know about that. You can take the rest of the night off.’

      Lydia watched in bemused disbelief as Nabil swept a low bow before backing towards the door. He had almost reached it when she suddenly thought of something.

      ‘Oh, wait a moment, please…’

      Hunting in her handbag, she pulled out her purse. But before she could open it, Amir’s hand, swift and firm, had clamped down hard on hers, stilling her movement.

      ‘You can leave, Nabil.’

      Another bow and the man was gone. As the door swung to behind him, she turned to Amir, annoyance sparking in her sapphire eyes.

      ‘I wanted to give him a tip!’ she protested. ‘He drove us here safely in the most appalling conditions. And he carried my bag up…’

      The impetuous words faded from her lips as she saw Amir’s dark, reproving frown, the obvious disapproval in his face.

      ‘It is not appropriate,’ he snapped, releasing her at last.

      ‘Not appropriate…But why? Highness!’ she recalled shakenly. ‘He called you Highness!’

      It sounded even more unbelievable spoken aloud in her own voice.

      ‘And you…just who is your father? Who are you?’

      Amir had moved to the opposite side of the room where an opened bottle of wine stood on a tray alongside a pair of the finest crystal wineglasses. Ignoring her questions, he poured a little into one of the goblets and tasted it carefully. Evidently it met with his approval because he swiftly filled both glasses and held one out to her, the ruby-coloured liquid glowing fiercely in the light of the fire.

      ‘Would you like a drink?’

      ‘What I’d like is an answer—preferably several!’

      His irritated frown told her that her voice had been pitched too high. It had needed to be for her to hear it over the fearful pounding of her own heart. Her pulse was beating far too fast, making the blood sound like thunder inside her head.

      ‘I want an explanation. For a start, just who is your father?’

      His shrug dismissed her question as a minor irritation, much as he might have flicked away an annoyingly buzzing fly.

      ‘My father’s identity is not relevant to this situation.’

      ‘Your father’s identity is supremely relevant!’ Lydia countered, her breath hissing in furiously through her teeth. ‘Because, Your Highness…’ she emphasised the word viciously ‘…if you don’t give me an explanation of exactly who you are and what is happening, then I am out of here—fast.’

      His smile was slow, mocking, filled with infuriating condescension.

      ‘And where, exactly, would you go?’ he drawled smoothly.

      The truth was that she had no idea. She didn’t even really know where in London they were. She had caught a glimpse of the wide flow of the Thames, the huge arc of the London Eye, the Houses of Parliament on the opposite bank, but apart from that she was lost. But she wasn’t going to let him see that that worried her.

      ‘I don’t know and I don’t care! But I know one thing—I won’t stay here! Not unless you start telling me the truth.’

      ‘The truth?’

      Amir sipped his wine, savouring it appreciatively before he swallowed.

      ‘The truth is simple. It’s just you and I—a man and a woman who find each other attractive and want to be together. That is all there is to it. Are you sure you wouldn’t like some of this wine? It really is excellent.’

      Warily Lydia eyed the glass he held out to her again, a look of suspicion on her face.

      ‘What is this, Amir? You wouldn’t be trying to get me drunk, would you?’

      The response she expected was that look of reproof once again, so she was thoroughly thrown off balance by the soft, warm sound of his laughter.

      ‘And why would I do that, my dear Lydia? So that I can have my wicked way with you? I hardly think so. For one thing, my tastes don’t run to a comatose partner, and for another, the way that you responded to me earlier, the fact that you are here with me now, would appear to indicate that I would not have to resort to such underhand methods to seduce you.’

      ‘You might have other things in mind.’

      ‘Such as?’

      He looked deep into her stubbornly set face and his smile grew, that infuriatingly СКАЧАТЬ