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Barely a few minutes later he crossed the foyer, then pushed the button for the elevator with Ahmed at his back. Thank God he’d booked a full suite at the same hotel. Still, they’d caught more than one curious hotel guest’s attention. More than one eager paparazzo’s prurient gaze.
But at least he had her now.
CHAPTER THREE
THEUNIVERSEWASreally cruel, Yana thought, as the man she’d taught herself to hate—and, oh, how easy he made it for her—placed her on his bed with a tenderness that stemmed from all the wrong reasons.
She rolled away from him using energy she didn’t have and instantly regretted the impulse. It washisbed she was rolling in; his suite he’d brought her to. That heady cocktail of clean sweat and his signature scent clung to the sheets.
If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the hard dig of his shoulder over her belly, his muscled back smushing her breasts, his corded forearm at the tops of her thighs, holding her in place. Even more shocking was his sudden devolution from the veneer of the starchy, uptight, no-public-display gentleman he’d always shown the world.
Who was this Nasir who had no control over his words or his actions?
Slowly, she sat up, cataloging the exhaustion sweeping through her. She was hungry. Tired. Her mouth felt dry and gritty. But she hadn’t had a fainting spell in years. Not that Nasir would believe her.
The stress of the past few weeks, her new medication and the fact that she hadn’t eaten all day...they were excuses, however valid. She’d let herself drift into chaos again.
But better Nasir who found her than Mira or Nush or God forbid Caio—who took protective instincts to a whole other level. Her sisters would’ve been very upset at how close to burnout she’d edged. They’d have blamed themselves and that was a vicious cycle she’d never enter again with loved ones.
At least with Nasir, she’d had a lifetime of dealing with his contempt.
But if there was one thing they had in common, it was the stubborn tenacity once they decided on a course.
She saw it in his face now, in the tight set of his jaw. In the edgy energy that imbued his usually elegant movements. He’d decided that Zara needed her and he was determined to drag her with him. But as much as she adored Zara, how could she be a stabilizing influence on her when her own life was only two streets away from utter mayhem?
Brow furrowed, Nasir approached the bed as if she were a wild animal he hoped to not provoke. Yana splayed her arms over the thick headboard behind her and straightened. “I won’t bite, Nasir.” When his jaw tightened, she grinned. “I mean, I know you’re much too conventional to enjoy something so...outside the box.”
“Good to see your usual...spark back. As for what I enjoy...” His gaze skidded toward her mouth and away so fast that she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. “Just because I don’t advertise my desires for all the world to see doesn’t mean they’re all vanilla.”
A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine—keenly felt after the miserable past few months. Damn, but the man could play.
With each step he took toward her, fantasies she’d buried years ago roared back to life. Done in pale pinks and warm yellows, the luxury suite amplified the stark, forbidding sensuality of the man. There had always been something almost ascetic about him. And like in the stories of celestial women who seduced sages, Yana had always imagined herself to be the one who broke through his reserve.
Coming to a stop at the foot of the bed, he rolled a bottle of water toward her on the silk sheets. She emptied it in a matter of seconds, wiping the water that dripped down her chin with the back of her hand. All the while, his gaze seared like a physical touch.
“One would think you’d take better care of your body seeing how it’s your only livelihood.”
She held her automatic response by the last frayed thread of self-control. Her dreams for the future, her hopes for a different career... He hadn’t won the privilege of hearing about them. On the contrary, she wouldn’t be surprised if he mocked her for having them in the first place. Curling her lip, she said, “One would think you’d have more capacity for empathy and understanding given you’ve seen the worst of the world.”
His mouth flinched.
Had she wounded him? Was that even possible for a mere mortal like her?
“You’re right. I have been overly judgmental when it comes to you. But that shouldn’t preclude you from—”
“Please, Nasir. Try to understand. I cannot come with you.” She let him hear her frustration, let him see her powerlessness in granting him this wish.
Amber-brown eyes searched hers. “Of course, you can. It’s a choice you make to put someone else’s needs, a child’s needs, before your own.” Hands tucked into his trouser pockets, he studied her with dispassionate intensity. “Tell me what I can do to sweeten the pot.”
She raised a brow, calling on all the haughtiness cameras had taught her to fake most of her life. “How pedestrian and predictable of you, Nasir. Like every other man, you think you can buy me. Even my grandfather couldn’t rise above bribes to make me behave.”
“We both know you’re in a financial hole. I’m giving you an easy way out.” He rubbed a finger over his brow. “I admit I’m surprised you’re not running toward me to snatch my hand off.”
“Or you underestimate my loathing for sharing a roof with you.”
Their gazes met and held. Memories swirled across the distance between them.
Long, dark nights spent in Jacqueline’s Paris apartment watching over her as her death drew nearer. In those few weeks she’d spent at her friend’s side, an intimacy of sorts had developed between Nasir and her. A byproduct of being so close to mortality, no doubt.
