A large stone wall covered in a passion-fruit vine loomed in front of her and she paused to get her bearings.
‘The gate is about fifty metres to your left,’ the prince drawled from behind her.
Farah groaned softly and expelled all the air in her body. ‘I got hot.’
‘Really?’ His eyebrow rose. ‘And I thought that was only while we were dancing.’
Oh! ‘A simple enough mistake to make for a man with your sized ego.’ She smiled sweetly, giving up all pretence of cooperating with him. What did it matter? He wouldn’t let her get away from him now.
His eyes gleamed, no doubt taking her response as some sort of challenge. ‘You had goose bumps.’
She hated that ring of confidence in his voice. ‘Maybe I was cold,’ she retorted.
He grinned. ‘Now, we both know that’s not true.’
His suggestive tone grated along every one of her nerve endings. ‘Oh, to be so sure of yourself.’
‘You know,’ he began conversationally. ‘I almost want you to make a run for it so that I can use that cord on you after all.’
Farah’s hand strayed to her neck. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Oh, I’d dare, Miss Hajjar. Remember, I’m a barbarian prince.’
‘Your brother—’
‘Is about to leave with his new wife.’
Farah swallowed. He moved in closer and the urge to take flight warred with a deep-seated determination to stand her ground.
‘Your skin looks almost luminescent in the moonlight.’ He reached out and stroked his hand down the side of her face. Farah reeled back and would have scratched herself on the vine if the prince hadn’t grabbed her elbow. ‘Careful, you could hurt yourself.’
Only by giving into the pull of attraction between them, she thought wildly, her heart racing as she fought to maintain control over her senses. ‘I’ll take my chances with a spiky plant any time,’ she threw at him.
Ignoring her smart comment, he drew her inexplicably closer. ‘You don’t like being told what to do, do you?’
Sensation zipped through her as his hands dropped to her hips and splayed wide. ‘Not by men like you, I don’t,’ she bit out scathingly. Anything to put him off.
‘Men like me?’ His eyes narrowed dangerously. Soft music and the tinkling conversation from the ballroom drifted over them. ‘You need taming, my little Zenobia,’ he whispered, taking full advantage of the tilt of her chin to nuzzle his way down her throat. ‘And I’m the man to do it.’
The hands she intended to shove against his shoulders slipped and she nearly groaned as her fingers slid along the top of his robe and grazed the ends of his thick hair.
A fierce expression crossed his shadowed face and one of his own hands cupped the nape of her neck, holding her firm. It seemed like forever that they stared at each other, silent and intense, the only sound that of their harsh, uneven breaths and the pounding of her heartbeat she was sure he could hear as loudly as she could.
She felt his hand sift through her hair before he slowly wound its length around his fist. She could feel the tug of each loop at her scalp and she couldn’t tear her eyes from his.
‘Tell me you want me, Farah.’
His lips slid along her jaw, feather-soft, as he breathed her in. Farah’s head fell to the side, unconsciously offering more of her neck to his sinful lips, offering more of herself.
He was going to kiss her. She knew it and she wanted him to. She wanted to feel the moist thrust of his tongue again and lose herself in his dark taste. She wanted him to crush her against him and ease the unbearable ache that throbbed low in her body. Just imagining it had her knees giving out. He took her weight effortlessly, his free hand skimming up the sides of her torso, stealing her thoughts like a sexy cutpurse filching goods from an unprotected market stall. Then, ever so slowly, he brought his other hand down and skated his thumbs lightly along the underside of her breasts until her throbbing nipples were so tight they ached for his touch. Ached for his...
‘I wouldn’t go there if I were you, Zach.’
Shocked and dazed by the voice at her side, Farah whipped her head around to find Sheikh Nadir scowling at them.
‘Her father is here.’
It took a moment for the sheikh’s words to penetrate her desire-fogged brain but when they did she gasped.
Here? As in, the palace here?
‘What?’ Zach’s tone echoed her own disbelief.
‘Yes. And he’s after blood—yours, to be precise. I told you this would happen.’