Modern Romance July 2018 Books 5-8 Collection. Annie West

Your sheikh is very handsome.

      Even in Portuguese the words made Lina shiver. Not her sheikh, though she didn’t bother to say that to Senhora Neves, sitting beside her at the royal feast.

      But he could be yours. All you have to do is say yes.

      A ripple of decadent delight shivered across Lina’s skin, raising goosebumps against the slippery fabric of the dress she’d spent the afternoon finishing. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs.

      Would she say yes to his outrageous suggestion?

      Could she?

      It went against everything she’d been taught or ever expected for herself. Yet temptation was strong.

      ‘E ele olha para você o tempo todo.’ And he looks at you all the time.

      Lina’s head swung round towards the head of the table where Sayid was talking to one of his governors and Senhor Neves, the head of the Brazilian mining consortium bidding to open up newly discovered deposits of gems on the edge of the desert. The Emir’s attention was fixed on his companions, not her.

      If he’d glanced this way it was just to see if she was holding her own with Senhora Neves. The woman spoke no Arabic and little English and the interpreter Sayid had arranged had been struck down with tonsillitis.

      Lina smiled. ‘Ele está apenas preocupado com o meu Português.’ He’s just worried about my Portuguese.

      The other woman shook her head. ‘Eu não acho que ele esteja a pensar em habilidades linguísticas.’ I don’t think it’s your language skills on his mind.

      Heat scalded Lina’s throat and cheeks. Surely he wasn’t so obvious?

      The older woman placed a hand on her arm and gently changed the subject, asking where Lina had purchased her dress, then expressing admiration when she discovered it was home-made.

      Slowly Lina let herself relax. She should be pleased her rather basic Portuguese, learned from some of the girls at school, allowed her to keep Senhora Neves company tonight. Pleased too at the compliments over her dressmaking skill. She’d laboured over this dress, wanting to look her best so she wouldn’t seem too out of place among tonight’s sophisticated guests.

      Who was she fooling? She wanted to look good for Sayid. Wanted him to admire her as he admired the women he usually invited to share his bed.

      Why had he invited her to be his lover?

      She still found it hard to believe he had. Tonight, as she entered the royal dining hall, he’d been cordial but aloof. There’d been nothing about his demeanour to hint he was interested in her personally apart from a momentary glint of speculation in those impenetrable eyes.

      All she could think was that for some reason he wanted a change from his usual leggy blondes. She’d seen the photos of him accompanied by stunning socialites at events outside Halarq. Maybe he was bored and decided a brunette was as good a change as any.

      Lina didn’t fool herself that his emotions were involved. Except perhaps curiosity. She hadn’t missed his surprise when she’d talked back to him this morning, demanding the freedom not to have a husband chosen for her.

      That was it. She was a novelty.

      She should be insulted, too proud to go to a man who made it clear all he wanted was short-term sex.

      Except even short-term sex with Sayid was far too tempting. She’d tried to be interested in the men she’d met overseas, but none had lived up to the impossible standards Sayid had set with his sex appeal, understanding and shining generosity.

      She’d told herself her passion would fade but instead it had grown, becoming something profound and troubling that she couldn’t shake off. It was more than the hero worship she’d experienced at seventeen. More than a first crush. If she wasn’t careful, this could turn into an abiding passion and that would destroy her. Already she couldn’t face the idea of being with any man other than Sayid. Which meant she needed, somehow, to cure herself of her feelings for him.

      Surely she could do no better than follow his example. He kept his affairs short and never pined for a woman he’d set aside. He focused on lust and pleasure and wasn’t bothered by troublesome yearnings for more.

      Lina knew her yearnings were doomed. There could never be more with Sayid. It was become his temporary lover or nothing.

      If she became his lover and eased this terrible yearning, surely the other feelings would fade? It had to be unrequited lust she felt, plus perhaps a shadow of her juvenile hero worship. Surely, after a week sharing his bed, she’d discover he had feet of clay. That he snored terribly or was a selfish lover or...

      A trickle of heat slid down her spine. Slowly she turned her head towards the head of the table and found his heated, dark gaze on her. Her train of thought disintegrated and her breath jammed in her lungs as her blood took up a desperate tattoo of want.

      She had to do something to end this. Sayid already had too much power over her. Now was the chance to make her own decision about her life.

      The choice was simple. Retain her dignity and her pride and work out her time doing community liaison until she was free to leave the palace and train as an interpreter. Or have a quick affair and walk away, hoping a week’s intimacy would burn up this savage yearning for a man who could never be hers long-term.

      Setting her jaw, she turned away from that glittering gaze and drew Senhora Neves into conversation.

      * * *

      She wasn’t coming.

      Disappointment lay heavy in his gut.

      Sayid strode through his chambers, tearing off his headscarf and tugging at his fine robes. Despite the climate-controlled comfort of the royal feasting hall, he’d been burning up all night, on tenterhooks for some sign from Lina.

      Never had he had to wait for a woman.

      Never had a woman said she needed time to consider becoming his lover!

      His teeth gritted as he hauled off his clothes and tossed them on a nearby chair. Even the scrape of fine cottons and silks against his flesh was like the rough graze of a blade. He was that aroused. And annoyed.

      He hated teetering on the edge of restraint. He made his own decisions, shaping events the way he thought best. He did not do patience well, not when it meant handing power to another.

      All evening he’d been aware of Lina, just a few seats down the dining table, wearing a sexy dress that covered her body yet clung to every curve. The purple had highlighted the colour of her eyes, and made the soft gold of her skin glow like fabled treasure.

      His fingers had itched with the desperate urge to reach for her, to stake his claim publicly in the face of so many admiring male glances.

      But she hadn’t given him the right.

      Damn it! How had he gone from ruler of all he surveyed to a man desperate for a woman’s nod of assent? As if he were a beggar awaiting her approval, not her lord and master.

      A shudder racked his frame at the thought of the mastery he’d like to impose on her ripe, willing body.

      Yet there was more than lust. There was admiration too, despite his frustration.

      Sayid had watched her closely tonight, pride rising. She’d proved an able interpreter, despite her doubts since Portuguese wasn’t her speciality. She’d also proved herself, again, adept at mixing with the wide range of people invited to these royal events.

      Lina fitted in as if born to it, a real asset to the success of the evening. She was sociable and light-hearted yet ready to listen or keep the conversation flowing when necessary. She was good with people in a way he’d had to work at. Sayid had trained as a soldier and leader. Social chit-chat had taken time.

      Rolling his shoulders against the stiffness