Modern Romance July 2018 Books 1-4 Collection. Sharon Kendrick

towards a pad fringed with burning torches where an imposing man was waiting to greet them—the flames painting his face with bronze and gold. The wind plastered Hannah’s dress against her legs as they emerged from the helicopter and her carefully dried hair blew wildly around her shoulders. Salvatore di Luca greeted Kulal with affection but his words to her were cursory—as if it was a waste of his time getting to know her. As if she was just one in a long line of women Kulal had brought to parties over the years.

      Well, of course she was!

      Taking care not to trip in her spindly sandals, Hannah followed the two men onto a terrace where the milling guests were assembled near the swimming pool. Tall trees were lit with fairy lights and flower-strewn tables were decked with candles whose flames barely flickered in the stillness of the evening air. The momentary silence which greeted their appearance was followed by a burst of excited chatter and Hannah could feel countless eyes boring into her. And suddenly she understood exactly what Kulal had meant. It was disconcerting to be the focus of everyone’s attention and she wondered if people could tell she was wearing a borrowed dress and jewels.

      The sultry sound of jazz began to drift through the air and a voluptuous singer in a silver dress began warming up. Over by the gin bar Hannah could see a Hollywood A-lister who’d recently been dating a woman half his age—and surely that was a famously tearaway European princess doing an impressive yoga pose by the side of the swimming pool?

      And that was when the fun really began. Well, for everyone except her. She seemed to be the only person who didn’t know anybody else and it was all too easy for Hannah to become tongue-tied. Her nerves weren’t helped by the fact that she happened to be with the most important person at the party and he was the only person they wanted to talk to. Even when Kulal introduced her to people, their interest was polite rather than genuine. A couple of times, she got shoved aside as if she was an impediment to the main attraction, but she acted as if it hadn’t happened, her smile as determinedly bright as the one she used at work if she happened to walk in on a couple having sex, who hadn’t bothered to put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door.

      But when a sparky blonde came up and started chattering to Kulal in what was obviously his native tongue, Hannah gave up. Why fight it? Why bother reaching for something which could never be hers? Didn’t matter how well she scrubbed up in the borrowed finery—it was all superficial. She was still the chambermaid. Still the outsider. Always had been and probably always would be.

      Unnoticed, she walked across the crowded terrace and perched on the edge of a fountain so that she could people-watch and listen to the band. She saw people hovering around Kulal and couldn’t deny the sudden wistful punch to her heart as she surveyed his powerful physique and jet-dark hair. But the music and the scent of jasmine were pleasures in themselves and Hannah sat sipping at her cocktail, in which floated tiny violet flowers. She watched a waitress tottering along the edge of the swimming pool carrying a tray of drinks, a deliberate sway of her curvy bottom as she passed the Sheikh only adding to her precarious posture.

      She’s going to drop those if she isn’t careful, thought Hannah anxiously, just as the loud crash of crystal hitting marble tiles shattered the buzz of the party.

      It was almost comic, the way everyone stared at the waitress scrabbling around amid the debris, as if she were an alien who’d just fallen from space. Quickly, Hannah put her glass down and went to help, crouching down and stilling the woman’s shaking fingers, terrified she was going to slice her hand open. The chatter resumed as Hannah took over the clear-up operation, becoming so engrossed in her task that it wasn’t until she’d dropped the final piece of crystal onto the tray that she suddenly became aware of someone standing over her.

      Looking up, she met Kulal’s bemused expression and was still so caught up in what she was doing that she spoke to him almost absently. ‘Do you think you could get me a dustpan and brush from somewhere?’

      ‘A dustpan and what?’ he echoed incredulously.

      She realised he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about and was wondering how to explain what it was—perhaps by some elaborate form of charade—when a waiter came over and started berating the waitress in a torrent of furious French.

      ‘Come,’ said Kulal firmly, pulling her to her feet. ‘I think you’ve done quite enough. Let them sort it out among themselves. Unless you’re planning to put on an apron and take over her job for the rest of the evening? Do you ever stop working, Hannah?’

      In the darkness, Hannah blushed as she registered his sardonic tone. ‘I couldn’t just leave the poor girl to struggle by herself—and nobody else was bothering to help, were they?’

      ‘Not everybody here has your skill-set,’ he said drily.

      She realised that his hand was at her elbow and he was leading her away from the curious eyes of the onlookers, towards the shadowed lawns which stretched out behind the swimming pool. It was peaceful here. And deserted, too. She could still hear the music, but it was just her and Kulal—who had a look on his face which was mid-way between irritation and amusement.

      ‘Are you enjoying the party?’ he questioned.

      ‘It was very kind of you to bring me.’

      ‘That wasn’t what I asked, Hannah.’

      Awkwardly, she shrugged. ‘I’m glad I came.’

      ‘Oh?’

      She hesitated, but something in the piercing gleam of his black eyes made her answer his question truthfully. ‘It made me realise that high-society parties aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.’

      ‘And why might that be?’

      She hesitated only for a second. ‘Well, nobody really talks about anything very much, do they? All the men seemed so competitive and most of the women were all over you like a rash, which made me think that bringing me here wasn’t as effective as you’d hoped. Or maybe I’m cramping your style.’ She looked at him questioningly. ‘In which case, I could easily make myself scarce until you’re ready to go, if that’s what you want.’

      Kulal felt a tug of admiration. He’d heard people around him exclaiming in horror when the little chambermaid had been crouching down, careless of the way her costly dress had been rucked up around her bare thighs, yet he had admired the way she had leapt to the defence of the hapless waitress. And now, instead of plying him with saccharine words of gratitude, she was echoing his very own sentiments about these kinds of occasions.

      His eyes narrowed. People rarely told him what he needed to hear—only what they thought he wanted to hear, and the two were rarely the same. And suddenly the desire to feel her in his arms was overwhelming. Too overwhelming to resist—and why should he? What harm would it do? ‘Dance with me instead,’ he said.

      Hannah blinked at him. ‘What, here?’

      ‘Right here.’

      Perhaps if he’d insisted on taking her to the small dance floor in front of the band, where they would have been visible to the other partygoers, Hannah might have refused. But he didn’t. He just pulled her into his arms as if he danced on moonlit lawns every night of the week and every bit of apprehension drained from her body. Because what woman would have objected to being held by the Sheikh like this? Hadn’t this been one of the forbidden fantasies she’d tried not to have while she’d been working for him? Only she was discovering that sometimes reality exceeded the fantasy—exceeded it in a way which was outside her understanding.

      Suddenly, the dance seemed irrelevant to what was happening inside her body. Her nipples had become rock-hard and she wondered if he could feel them pushing insistently against his dress shirt. And now there was a distracting ache, low in her belly, and she knew she needed to stop this before she did something she regretted—like whispering her lips along the darkened edge of his jaw and begging him to kiss her. Her cheeks were burning as she pulled away from him and she met the hectic glitter of his dark gaze.

      ‘I think I’d better go back now,’ she said huskily. ‘To the hotel, I mean.’