The Dreaming Of... Collection. Оливия Гейтс

sleep—what little sleep they might get—in the same bed.

      A few hours later, they took a helicopter to Marrakech, touching down at the airport only to board a private plane that would take them to Paris. Noelle settled into a sumptuous sofa of cream leather with a sigh of appreciation.

      ‘Do you always take a private jet, wherever you go?’ she asked.

      ‘Yes.’ Ammar sat across from her and opened his briefcase.

      ‘It must be an awful expense.’

      He took a sheaf of papers out. ‘It’s worth it.’

      There was something repressive about his manner, the way he wouldn’t look at her. Noelle felt a flicker of unease. She knew he didn’t like to talk about Tannous Enterprises. She didn’t really like to ask. But, sitting there across from him, she was conscious of how much she didn’t know. ‘You said you wanted to legitimise Tannous Enterprises,’ she said quietly. ‘What does that mean exactly?’

      ‘Exactly what it sounds like.’ Ammar was still scanning his papers, clearly unwilling to look her in the eye or continue this conversation.

      Noelle reached over and laid a hand across the papers he was reading so avidly, causing him to look up, startled. ‘Don’t,’ she said quietly. ‘Don’t shut me out.’

      He stared at her for a long moment, and Noelle could not read his expression at all. She hated it when he blanked her out like this, almost as if he were blanking himself out. Not thinking anything, just as he’d told her before. ‘I’m not shutting you out,’ he said evenly. ‘But I’m not sure you want to know all the sordid details of my father’s business. He was corrupt, Noelle. A criminal.’ He spoke flatly, his jaw tight.

      Noelle swallowed. ‘But it’s your business now.’

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘Are they so very sordid?’ she asked, heard how small her voice sounded. Ammar uncapped a gold-plated pen and made a notation on one of the papers.

      ‘It’s simply not worth discussing. I intend to legalise every aspect of Tannous Enterprises and make restitution where it is necessary.’

      Doing what was right. ‘That sounds like a huge job.’

      ‘It is.’

      She felt a surge of admiration for what he was undertaking, what he wanted to do. Impulsively, she leaned over and placed her hand on his. His skin was warm, his muscles taut. ‘I’m proud of you, Ammar. Of what you’re doing.’

      He glanced at her properly, his amber eyes opaque and fathomless. A muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘Don’t speak too soon,’ he said, and removed his hand. ‘I haven’t done much of anything yet.’

      ‘But you will.’ She spoke with confidence, with love, and she knew Ammar heard it. He glanced at her again and she saw a hunger in his eyes, a need she felt bloom in herself. Suddenly she was breathless.

      Slowly he reached one hand out and laced his fingers with hers. Her heart began to pound as he drew her to him, up from her seat and across the aisle and then onto his lap, her legs splayed across his hips. She felt the hard ridge of his erection against her and a thrill ran through, like icy fire.

      He tangled his hands in her hair, drew her face to him for a kiss so deep and endless it felt as if he were plumbing the depths of her soul. She pressed against him, let out a shuddering breath as he pressed back, every point of contact aching with exquisite and unsated desire.

      He slid his hands under her top and nudged aside her bra, his palms cupping her breasts as he shifted to angle her more purposefully on top of him. Another thrill shot through her at the feeling of him underneath her, and she let out a shuddering breath. She would never get tired of this, never feel that she had enough of him.

      Ammar flipped open the top button of her skirt, the flat of his hand sliding along her skin. Noelle instinctively wriggled her hips to give him greater access. Yet, just as his fingers tugged beneath the lace of her underwear, the sound of a door opening, a throat clearing had them both freezing.

      ‘Excuse me, sir—’ One of Ammar’s staff dropped his voice to a horrified hush. ‘I’m sorry; I just wanted to let you know we’re ready for take-off—’

      ‘Indeed,’ Ammar said dryly. ‘I certainly am,’ he murmured in Noelle’s ear, and she buried her face in the warm curve of his shoulder, her own shoulders shaking with sudden laughter.

      With another murmured apology, the man left and Noelle lifted her head from Ammar’s shoulder. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’

      ‘You’re gorgeous. And, fortunately for us, this plane comes with a bedroom.’

      ‘We couldn’t—’ Noelle protested, and he gave her a wicked smile.

      ‘Oh, yes, we could.’

      And they did.

      Ammar couldn’t keep from smiling even as he tried to focus on the papers in front of him. He glanced up at Noelle, saw her curled up across from him, one hand resting against her cheek as she read a fashion magazine, a faint frown puckering her forehead. They’d made good use of that bedroom and his body still thrummed with the satisfaction of making Noelle his again. Having her say she was proud of him had been an overwhelming aphrodisiac. Hearing the love in her voice, knowing she believed in him—

      She doesn’t know anything.

      The thought slammed into his mind with the force of a hammer, shattering the hope that had been buoying his heart and taking the smile off his face. Ammar closed his eyes in silent supplication, willing himself not to think even as the happiness he’d just felt evaporated in the hard light of reality. Noelle didn’t know a damn thing about what he’d done. What he’d been capable of.

      And some day she would have to find out.

      Don’t think about it. He forced his mind to blank. Don’t think, don’t remember. You’re different now. With Noelle by your side, you can be different.

      To his surprise, he felt the soft touch of her hand on his and he looked up to see her smiling at him, although her eyes were dark and troubled. ‘Don’t worry so much,’ she said quietly, and squeezed his hand. Ammar captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

      ‘I’m not,’ he lied, smiling as he kissed her fingers. She smiled back, so very trusting. Believing in him. He felt that hard knot of worry ease, just a little. With Noelle by his side—and in his bed—everything would be different. He would be.

      Several hours later, they landed in Paris. A limousine with darkly tinted windows was waiting for them at the gate and Ammar ushered her in while one of his local team went for their bags. Her eyes widened at the sight of the two dark-suited men going about their business with cold, brisk efficiency.

      His driver, Youssef, spoke to him in Arabic, asking him if he wanted to go directly to the corporate penthouse his father had always kept in Paris. Noelle frowned as he answered back before turning to her. ‘I’ll drop you off before I go to my apartment.’

      ‘I thought,’ she said, ‘you’d stay with me.’

      If only it could be so simple. ‘Work prevents me from doing so.’

      ‘Work?’

      Ammar felt himself tense. He wanted to keep Noelle as separate from work as possible, at least until he’d swept Tannous Enterprises clean. ‘I have many meetings, commitments,’ he explained, trying to keep his voice mild. ‘I’m reorganising every regional branch of the company, going through records and files, interviewing staff. Firing people as well. It is time-consuming and somewhat unpleasant, and I don’t wish to bring such things into your home.’

      ‘I see.’

      Noelle turned to stare out of the window, the Parisian traffic sliding by, and Ammar wondered just what she thought she saw. Was he imagining the flicker of suspicion in