A Diamond For The Sheikh's Mistress. Эбби Грин

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СКАЧАТЬ was the only one in his family history which had allegedly been a happy one merely confirmed for Zafir that love within marriage was as much of a rarity as the diamond itself—and about as improbable.

      Irritated to find his mind deviating like this, Zafir said now, ‘Well? What are your thoughts, Rahul?’

      ‘We are starting the diplomatic tour in New York next week, as discussed.’

      New York.

      No one else would have noticed the slightest misstep in Zafir’s authoritative stride. But he noticed. And he despised himself for it. Suddenly all thoughts of his sister and the lingering grief he felt were eclipsed by her again. The ease with which she could get to him after all this time only made him angrier.

      What the hell was wrong with him today?

      Manhattan was primarily where their relationship had played out over several months. And in spite of his best efforts his blood simmered, reminding him of just how far under her spell he’d fallen. Until it had been almost too late.

      Zafir’s strides got longer, as if he could outrun the past nipping at his heels, but even by the time he’d reached his palatial offices she was still there, those amber-hazel eyes looking up at him slumberously while a sinful smile made that famously sexy and lush mouth curve upwards. As if she’d known exactly what she was doing to him, drawing him deeper and deeper into—

      ‘Sire?’

      Zafir gritted his jaw against the onslaught of memories and turned around to focus on his aide. ‘Yes, Rahul.’

      The young man looked nervous. ‘I...ah...have a suggestion to make regarding the jewel.’

      ‘Go on,’ Zafir bit out, curbing his impatience. His aide was not to know that he’d unwittingly precipitated the storm currently raging inside him.

      ‘The diamond is being brought on your diplomatic tour as an exhibit and a stunning example of Jandor’s many attractions in a bid to promote business and tourism.’

      Zafir’s impatience spiked in spite of his best efforts. ‘I know very well why we’re bringing it on the diplomatic tour. It was my idea.’

      The man swallowed, visibly nervous. ‘Yes, and we’d planned on displaying it in each city in a protected glass case.’

      ‘Rahul...’ Zafir said warningly, coming close to the end of his tether.

      His aide spoke quickly now. ‘The suggestion I want to make is this—rather than show it off in a sterile and protected environment, I thought it might prove to be far more dynamic if it were seen up close... We could let people see how accessible it is and yet still exclusive and mysterious.’

      Now he had Zafir’s attention. ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘I’m talking about hiring someone—a model—someone who will actually wear the jewel and come with us on the tour. Someone who will walk with us among the guests at each function, so they can appreciate the jewel’s full beauty, see how it lives and breathes—just like Jandor’s beauty.’

      Zafir looked at Rahul for a long moment. This was why he’d hired the younger man after all—to inject new blood into his father’s archaic council.

      The idea had merit, and Zafir assessed it in seconds. However he was about to dismiss it for various reasons—not least of which were to do with security—but just as he opened his mouth to speak an image exploded into his head, turning his words to dust.

      He immediately turned away from the younger man, for fear that something would show on his face. All he could see was her, lying on a bed, with her long, sinuous limbs and her treacherously hypnotic beauty, naked but for the jewel that nestled between her high, full breasts. It would glow fiery red against that perfect pale skin.

      As red as his blood—which wasn’t simmering now. It had boiled over.

      He’d allowed the floodgates to open, and right at that moment Zafir knew there was only one way to rid himself of this ache and move on. And he had to move on. His country depended on it.

      Zafir’s mind reeled as the idea took root and embedded itself deep inside him. Was he really considering revisiting the past and the one person he’d vowed never to think or speak of again?

      A spurt of rebelliousness and something much more ambiguous ignited inside him.

      Why not?

      This could be the perfect opportunity to sate his desires before he committed to his full responsibilities and the people of Jandor owned him completely. And there was only one woman Zafir wanted.

      She owed him, he told himself grimly. She’d lied to him. She’d betrayed him by not revealing her true self, her true nature. She’d walked out of his life eighteen months ago and he hadn’t had enough of her. She’d left him aching and cursing her.

      The fact that he’d once considered her suitable to be in his long-term future was a reminder that was unwelcome. This time when he took her he would know exactly who she was. And he would feel nothing but lust and desire. He would have her long legs wrapped around him again and he would sink deep enough inside her to burn away this irritating lingering lust.

      He turned back to Rahul, who was looking nervous again.

      ‘Sire, it was just a—’

      Zafir cut him off. ‘It was a brilliant suggestion and I know exactly who will be our model.’

      Rahul frowned. ‘Who, Sire?’

      Zafir’s pulse thundered in his veins. ‘Kat Winters—the American supermodel. Find out where she is. Now.’

      A week later, Queens, New York

      Zafir observed her from the back of his car, with the window rolled down. He couldn’t quite believe his eyes—that Kat Winters was working in a busy midrange restaurant in Queens. But, yes...one of the world’s arguably most beautiful women was currently wearing skinny jeans and a white T-shirt with a black apron around her small waist. Her hair was piled up in a messy knot on her head and there was a pencil stuck through it, which she was now fumbling for as she took an order.

      Everything in Zafir recoiled from this very banal scenario—except it wasn’t disgust he was feeling, seeing her again. It was something much hotter and more urgent. Even dressed like this and without a scrap of make-up she was exquisite. A jewel such as she could not be hidden in a place like this. What the hell was she doing here? And what the hell was she doing going under another name—Kaycee Smith? And how dared she refuse to even consider the offer he’d sent to her via her agent?

      Her agent had sent back a terse response:

      Kat Winters is no longer available for modelling assignments.

      Please do not pursue this request.

      No one refused Zafir. Or warned him off. Least of all an ex-lover.

      He issued a curt instruction to his driver now, and his window rolled up silently as he got out of the car and stretched to his full height of six foot four. He recalled Kat in vertiginous heels, the way it had put her mouth well within kissing distance. The way her added height had СКАЧАТЬ