The Inherited Bride. Maisey Yates

out of the shadows and back toward the main door of his building. Her rage mingled with something else—something hot and dangerous and completely unsettling. She put a hand to her mouth again, to confirm she hadn’t hallucinated the entire event.

      When they were back in the building he propelled her into the lift, the doors shut behind them. She couldn’t believe he had done that. Kissed her as though he had every right to touch her, as though he … he had some claim on her. And only to shut her up. Her first kiss had been a diversion.

      Worse than all of that, she couldn’t believe the restless ache that was building in her body. The curiosity. The need to know what it would be like to kiss him again. Only this time longer and gentler, slowly so she had time to process it, to learn the texture of his lips, the rhythm of his movements.

      She shut that traitorous part of her brain down. He’d had no right to do that. She wore another man’s ring. Even in her wildest fantasies of escape she had never imagined betraying her fiancé in that way. She didn’t know the man. She certainly didn’t love him. But they had a signed agreement, and she had no intention of violating it.

      He’d done it to shut her up. That stung her pride. Much more than it should.

      “I can’t believe you did that,” she said icily.

      He looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable, his lips—lips that had just claimed hers with what had felt like hunger—now pressed into a flat, immovable line. There was no passion there. He was unaffected. A man made of cold, unyielding stone.

      “If you learn one thing about me learn this, and learn it quickly,” he said, his voice hard. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure my objective is met. I intend to take you back to Sheikh Hassan, and I will do it.”

      She believed him. Her scarred captor with the fathomless eyes was most certainly capable of getting his way. Of seeing that she didn’t get hers. She felt as if she’d stepped into water, expecting a wading pool, only to find she had swum out into the middle of an ocean. Out of her depth didn’t begin to describe it.

      She walked from the lift back into the penthouse, and tried not to imagine a barred cell door swinging shut when Adham closed the door behind them.

      “How did you know? How did you get down there so fast?”

      “I was expecting it. I deal with masterminds, Isabella, one naive princess is not going to pull one over on me. There’s an alarm on the door that’s linked to my mobile phone, and the stairs are faster than the elevator.”

      She closed her eyes against mounting anguish, tried to fight the tears that were threatening. She didn’t want to dissolve in front of him. Didn’t want him to see how defeated she felt. How could a man who was allowed to do whatever he wanted, a man who roamed the world, lived by his own rules, possibly understand the preciousness of two months and ten days worth of freedom?

      She looked at his hardened face, the scars. Appealing to him for a show of kindness would be like attempting to squeeze water from a rock. It was impossible. You couldn’t extract what wasn’t there.

      “Go to bed, Isabella.” His voice was as hard as everything else about him.

      She felt as if she was going to break, but she wouldn’t do it in front of him.

      She nodded jerkily and stumbled into her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a click.

      Adham stalked across the room and retrieved his phone from the coffee table, hitting the speed dial for his brother, not caring what time it was in their home country.

      “Salaam, brother,” Adham said curtly.

      “Salaam, “ Hassan returned the greeting, his tone questioning. “You’ve found Isabella?”

      “I have found your wayward fiancée, as requested.”

      “And she is well?”

      “She is uninjured, if that’s what you mean. But she did make another escape attempt.”

      “She’s unhappy?” His brother sounded genuinely concerned.

      “She is a spoiled child. She has no reason to be so discontent. She wants for nothing.”

      Hassan sighed heavily into the phone. “I regret that she is reluctant about the marriage. But it’s a much needed alliance, and marriage is the best way to seal such bargains. It is necessary insurance in something so critical.”

      “I understand the reason for your union. But I find her childish.”

      “You do not think she will make a suitable bride?”

      “I will gladly hand her over to you and see that she becomes your problem as quickly as possible.”

      Hassan laughed. “You make me eager for her to arrive.” He paused for a moment. “Is there nothing that can be done to make her happy? A gift, perhaps? A ring that is more to her liking?”

      “She wants to see the Eiffel Tower,” Adham bit out in response.

      “Simple enough.”

      “She has some idea that she is lacking in life experience. She intends to go and find herself some experience.”

      There was another pause on the other end of the line. “The wedding is not for two more months, Adham. If that is what she wants, I see no reason why you can’t accommodate her—so long as the experience she seeks is not in a man’s bed.”

      There was something different in his brother’s tone. A desperation he had not heard before. Adham had the feeling that his request had little to do with Isabella, but he would not ask.

      “I am not a babysitter.” He repeated his earlier words. “Have one of your other men come and watch over her while she tries to play at living her spoiled princess fantasy of what real life is.”

      “I don’t have that kind of trust in anyone else. Another man would be too tempted by her. I’m certain that you’ve noticed she’s an incredibly beautiful woman.”

      He’d noticed. It was difficult not to. She had the sort of beauty that no red-blooded man could ignore. And he didn’t want to spend any more time with her than was necessary.

      “You will keep her safe?” Hassan pressed.

      “You have my word. On my honor, I will keep her from harm. I will keep her untouched.” His vow was from the heart. He served Hassan always. Gladly. Hassan was his only family, and there was no bond stronger than that forged in blood.

      “I have absolute faith in you, Adham,” his brother continued. “You will keep her safe and make her happy. It will ease my conscience.”

      “As you will it,” Adham ground out, before ending the call.

      He tossed the phone onto the couch and tried to calm his raging pulse. At the moment he felt like a fox that had just been asked to guard the henhouse.

      Kissing her had been a miscalculation on his part. He had not anticipated his body’s reaction to such a simple thing. He had far too much experience for a mere kiss to fire his blood.

      And yet kissing Isabella had done just that. His body was still hard, and a dark, physical need was gripping him. There was no denying that in a physical sense he desired her. And she was the one woman he was forbidden to touch.

      But it was a simple matter of control. And once he had made his decision he would not deviate from it. He never did.