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CHAPTER TEN
SHOCKHELDHER immobile but was it shock that made her body hum or that made the silk suddenly feel heavy against her sensitised nerve-endings?
In no mood to think about alternative explanations to shock, she caught her lower lip between her teeth, lifted her chin and waited for him to acknowledge her presence, and in the seconds it took she made a comprehensive survey of his tall, dynamic figure, casual in beautifully cut dark trousers and a pale open-necked shirt that didn’t make him any less of a dauntingly elegant figure or lessen the impact of his sheer male physicality.
There was nothing that even vaguely suggested his invalid status. The bruises she knew were on his body were concealed and with his left profile presented to her the damage to his face was hidden.
He turned his head then and Abby pulled in a tense breath as their eyes clashed electric-blue on emerald. After a moment that seemed to stretch on for ever he tipped his head in curt acknowledgement.
Breathing again, she watched as he turned back to the women, said something that had them dropping curtsies and murmuring a respectful chorus of ‘Amir!’ before they hurried from the room, eyes down.
* * *
Zain waited until the door had closed and then he waited some more before he turned back; it took the extra moments to get his rampaging libido back under some sort of control. Being celibate for too long went some way to explaining the strength of his reaction...some, but not all.
It was crazy and he’d never known anything like it. It had been the slither of silk that had initially alerted him to her presence and sent the rush of aroused heat through his body, the rush becoming a flood when he’d turned and got his first look at her, sinuous curves swathed in silk that clung to her breasts and the long, lovely line of her shapely thighs. It was obvious she didn’t have a stitch on underneath.
He lifted his gaze quickly, but not quickly enough to stop the painful pulse of heat from skewering him where he stood. She had the body of a goddess, athletic and toned.
The effort of dragging his eyes upwards caused the muscles along his jaw to quiver. He forced his hands to unclench; the sensation of not being in complete control of himself was a new one—one he didn’t like. Thankfully he recognised it for what it was—simple sexual desire.
‘Should you be out of hospital?’ Abby sounded shrill.
‘I have been given a clean bill of health.’
‘Who did you bully and intimidate into signing that?’ She couldn’t resist the retort but as he held her gaze he sensed she immediately regretted it. A long, uncomfortable moment passed before he spoke.
‘Is that some subtle allusion...are you trying to suggest that I bullied you, Abigail?’
‘Nobody calls me Abigail.’ She shook her head and sighed. ‘All right, this is my decision. I’ve agreed to do this but—’
‘Ah, the but...?’
‘I don’t think I can carry it off.’
‘I don’t see the problem.’
Her mouth twisted at his unsympathetic response. It was plain that she found it extremely frustrating that he didn’t seem to take her concerns seriously.
‘That is the problem—you don’t. The girl earlier—she tried to put my shoes on!’ Her voice rose to an incredulous quiver that made his lips twitch.
His glance dropped to her painted toes peeking out through the velvet before returning to her face. ‘And that is a problem because?’
‘See?’ she said, lifting her hands in a point-proven gesture. ‘Having people put your shoes on for you is normal for you; for me it’s...well, ridiculous, and it makes me feel uncomfortable.’
‘It is not compulsory; I have been known to tie my own shoelaces on occasion.’
‘You’re laughing at me!’ she accused hotly.
He huffed out a grunt that could be construed as apology or maybe an admission. ‘I appreciate this all might seem strange to you at first.’
‘Big of you,’ she said, refusing to be mollified.
‘I have every confidence that you will fulfil your side of the deal, unless I read you wrong?’
He watched her eyes narrow at the suggestion she was not a woman of her word, and tough to boot, which was the response he had intended.
‘I said I’d do this and I will.’ The words carried more conviction with an image of her grandparents in her head. ‘Obviously I will need to speak to my agent.’ He wasn’t going to be happy she had work commitments lined up. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to say to him.’ Whatever she said it would be difficult to defend herself against his inevitable accusation of lack of professionalism.
