Secrets of the Oasis. Эбби Грин

over her. Dimly she recognised that she couldn’t smell drink on his breath. He hadn’t been drunk? That didn’t fit with the scene she’d just witnessed.

      ‘Like I said—’ his voice was as glacial as hers ‘—this is my home as much as it is Nadim’s, and I will invite whomever I want, whenever I want.’

      Unable to articulate a response, and quickly becoming overwhelmed by Salman’s intoxicating proximity, Jamilah tried to break free of his hold again, twisting around in his hands.

      All it did, though, was force her back into his hard chest—and then she heard a muttered curse. Suddenly strong arms were below her breasts, and she was being lifted clear off her feet and carried bodily towards the bathroom. She kicked out with her legs, but her struggles were futile and puny in the face of Salman’s overpowering strength. She was plastered against a hard, wet body. And that was entirely her fault.

      She couldn’t even get a word out before they were in the bathroom, and Salman easily held her with one arm while he turned on the shower. Both her hands were trying to free herself, to no avail. His arm was like a steel bar. She could feel her hair loosening from its untidy ponytail.

      The water was running, and steam had started to rise around them when she finally spluttered out, ‘What the hell do you think you are doing? Let me down this instant!’

      In that moment Salman walked them both under the warm spray of the huge shower, and she heard him say grimly over her head, ‘Giving you a little taste of your own medicine, Miss High-and-mighty.’