Modern Romance Collection: June 2018 Books 5 - 8. Jane Porter

      ‘We need a lot more time than I can spare for you tonight,’ he said, appearing not to notice her response. ‘And I suggest you learn to relax and trust me.’

      Trust him? Was he serious? They were a long way from that. Sheikh Khalid might be much older and more experienced, but she was not a fool, and would work on keeping a clear head. That was far more important than relaxing.

      Try thinking clearly in front of all this darkly glittering glamour. How could she avoid noticing the sharp black stubble coating, not just his chin, but the thick column of his neck when he tipped his head back to drink. She could only imagine what he’d look like naked—

      She had to stop that right now. Thoughts like that were dangerous and inappropriate.

      ‘A refill?’

      ‘Yes, please.’

      Their fingers brushed a second time. He knew, she thought, and could sense her arousal as sweet clenches in secret places begged her to forget the past. It was almost a disappointment when he chose to put distance between them, by moving away to lean back against the wall.

      ‘Why are you frowning?’ he asked.

      Was she? ‘This meeting has obviously come as a big shock for me.’

      He shrugged disbelievingly. ‘And yet you must have volunteered to come on board with the laundry, and when I invited you to chat in my study, you accepted.’

      She should have found a member of staff to question about that night. Why hadn’t she?

      It was too late to wish she’d played this differently, Millie concluded. So, what now? How would it end? She shivered involuntarily. There was something in Sheikh Khalid’s eyes that stripped her bare, right down to the depths of her soul.

      * * *

      He had been forced to put distance between them. Millie’s allure was like an atomic charge to his senses. All he could think about was taking her over his desk...parting her legs and bringing her the release the hunger in her eyes said she so badly needed. Pressing her down beneath him, hearing her whimper with pleasure when he cupped her, worked her, before stripping her, so he could press his hard frame against her yielding softness—

      He refused to submit to such carnal urges. Millie might be a beautiful woman, and the bond between them might have strengthened beyond belief, but the desire to protect her was intact. As was the desire to soften that stubborn mouth and turn her limbs languid with contentment. He was a stranger to hesitation and yet found himself contemplating a lengthy seduction, when what he should be doing was sending Millie back to the laundry without delay. It would be kinder for her. He must concentrate on choosing a bride, not a mistress.

      But there was a yawning gulf between right and desire. ‘Please,’ he invited, indicating the chair opposite his at the desk. ‘Why don’t we both sit down and make the most of this short interview?’

      * * *

      Reluctantly, Millie sat down. I can handle this, she told herself firmly, but when the Sheikh sat across from her and steepled his lean, tanned fingers her mind was full of sex. She blamed the erotic images hanging on the wall in the gilded stateroom.

      There was no one to blame but herself, and she’d feel worse if she didn’t confront him with the real reason she was here. ‘I want to know what happened that night,’ she said. ‘After I left the Sapphire, what happened?’

      The Sheikh stared at her without speaking until all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled. And then, instead of answering her question, he stood and came around the desk.

      ‘What makes you think I saw what happened?’ he demanded softly. ‘I could have heard about the accident second-hand.’

      ‘Accident?’ Bridling, Millie shot to her feet.

      ‘The coroner’s court agreed with that supposition,’ the Sheikh pointed out calmly, in no way rattled by her response.

      ‘And closed the case,’ she agreed, angrily clenching her fists. ‘Does that seem fair to you?’

      ‘I saw no reason to argue with the coroner’s verdict.’

      ‘I’m sure you didn’t,’ she said with a bitter laugh. ‘But even if you didn’t see what happened, I hope you’re not asking me to believe that you never once questioned your brother.’

      ‘We didn’t share the close relationship you seem to imagine.’

      ‘Even so, that’s no excuse.’

      She couldn’t keep calm. She’d tried. And failed. This meeting could only play out as she’d planned if emotion could be kept out of it. And how could that happen now she’d plunged back into all the grief and guilt of learning about her mother’s death?

      In danger of wasting questions, she was also in danger of wasting precious time, but what would it take for Sheikh Khalid to tell her the truth? She had to find a way to make him, though dredging up the past would be the last thing he’d want to do.

      She resorted to pleading. ‘Can’t you tell me anything?’

      ‘Nothing you’d want to hear,’ he said.

      ‘Try me,’ she said tensely. ‘I know my mother had a problem with drink, and wasn’t always responsible for her actions—that’s why I asked you to go back and bring her out.’

      ‘And if she didn’t want to leave?’ he asked evenly, keeping her locked in his stare.

      ‘Surely, you could have done something? Or was my mother such an entertaining sight, you laughed along with everyone else?’

      The Sheikh’s expression turned stony. ‘I hope you know that’s not true.’

      ‘How do I know anything?’ Millie demanded heatedly. ‘You won’t tell me what happened. And now you’re going to send me away without answers.’

      ‘I sent you away that night for your own safety.’

      ‘And then you broke your word,’ she said bitterly.

      ‘You don’t know me and yet you judge me,’ he said in a quiet and unnerving tone. ‘You surely can’t imagine I condone what happened on board the Sapphire that night?’

      ‘I don’t know. I don’t know you!’ Millie exclaimed, all the calm reserve that had kept her safe for all these years, deserting her completely. Its place was soon taken by drowning grief and corrosive guilt at the thought that, fifteen years old or not, she should have done something more to help her mother.

      ‘Calm down,’ the Sheikh advised as she clenched her jaw and wrung her hands.

      This had the opposite effect. When he took hold of her shoulders, she shook him off angrily. ‘Don’t you dare tell me how to feel!’ she raged as the emotion that had been bottled up for eight years erupted in fury. That terrible night could not be changed, and it was all coming back to her in vivid detail, and he was part of it.

      ‘What are you doing?’ she protested as he bound her close. ‘Let go of me this instant!’

      ‘I’m keeping you safe,’ he ground out, his minty breath warming her face.

      ‘So, I’m your captive now?’ she derided. ‘If you think you can keep me, as your brother would have kept my mother—?’

      ‘Your imagination does you credit,’ he said in an annoyingly calm tone, without making the slightest concession when it came to letting her go. ‘I would remind you that your mother remained on board the Sapphire of her own free will.’

       I don’t want to hear this!

      ‘And you can leave any time you like,’ he added in that same maddening voice.

      ‘All right—I will!’

      It was surprisingly easy