“Dammit,” Amanda said, gritting her teeth and struggling against his grasp, “let go of me!”
“When I’m good and ready.”
“You have no right—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Nick and Amanda looked at Dawn. She was staring at the two of them as if she’d never seen them before. “What in hell is going on here?”
“Don’t curse,” Nick said sharply.
“Then don’t treat me like an imbecile.” Dawn slapped her hands on her hips and glared. “Yes, I invited Amanda here tonight.”
“As my ‘gift’,” Nick said, his mouth twisting.
“That’s right. I wanted to give you something special for your birthday.”
“Did you really think I’d find it appealing to have you provide a woman for my entertainment?”
“Holy hell,” Amanda snarled, “I was not provided for your entertainment! And don’t bother telling me not to curse, Your Dictatorship, because I don’t have to take orders from you.”
“I can’t imagine what my sister was thinking when she made these arrangements.”
“I’ll tell you what your sister was thinking. She thought—”
Dawn slammed her fist against the top of the dresser. “Why not let me tell you what I was thinking?” she snapped.
“Stay out of this,” Nick said.
“This is unbelievable. All this fuss because I decided your apartment looked like an ad for the No-Taste Furniture Company!” Her mouth thinned as she glared at Nick. “What a mistake I made, fixing you up with the services of an interior designer.”
Nick blinked. “A what?”
“A designer. Someone trained to figure out how to turn this—this warehouse for overpriced, overdone, overvelveted garbage into a home.”
“Oh, go on,” Nick said with a tight smile, “don’t hold back. Just tell me what you really think.”
“You know it’s the truth.” Dawn waved her arms in the air. “This apartment looks more like a—a mortician’s showroom than a home. So I called Amanda, who just happens to be one of the city’s best-known designers. Isn’t that right, Amanda?”
Amanda glanced at the sheikh. He was looking at her, and the expression on his face wasn’t encouraging.
“And one of its most modest,” Dawn added hurriedly. “She was booked up to her eyeballs. The mayor’s mansion. The penthouse in that new building on the river. You know, the one that was written up in Citylights a couple of weeks ago.”
“Dawn,” Amanda said, and cleared her throat, “I don’t think—”
“No. No, you certainly didn’t. I didn’t think it, either. Who’d imagine my brother would want to turn down such a gift from his favorite sister?”
“My only sister,” Nick said dryly.
“The gift of a brilliant interior designer,” Dawn said, ignoring the interruption, “who made room in her incredibly busy schedule solely as a favor to an old friend…” She paused dramatically. “And what have you done to her, Nicky?”
Color slashed Nick’s high cheekbones. “What kind of question is that?”
“A logical one. Just look at her. Her dress is torn. Her hair’s a mess. She’s missing a shoe—”
“Excuse me,” Amanda said. “There’s no need to take inventory.”
“And you, Nicky.” Dawn huffed out a breath. “I had no idea my brother, the Lion of the Desert, was in the habit of conducting business with his shirt off.”
Amanda shut her eyes, opened them and looked at the sheikh. The flush along his cheeks had gone from red to crimson.
“I have no need to explain myself to anyone,” he said brusquely.
“And a good thing, too, because how you could possibly explain this—”
“But since you’re my sister, I’ll satisfy your curiosity. We fought over Ms. Benning’s spy camera.”
“My what?” Amanda laughed. “Honestly, Dawn. This brother of yours—”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Be careful,” he said softly, “before you push me too far.”
“Well, you’ve already pushed me too far.” Dawn marched to Amanda’s side and took her hand. “We’ll be in my room, Nicky, when you’re ready to apologize.”
The sheikh stiffened. The room went still. Even the distant sounds of the party—the strains of music, the buzz of conversation that had begun drifting up the stairs a little while before—seemed to stop.
Amanda sensed that a line had been crossed.
She looked at Dawn, who seemed perfectly calm—but the grip of her hand was almost crushing. The women’s eyes met. Hang on, Dawn’s seemed to say and we can get away with this.
Together, they started for the door. It was like walking away from a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse. One step. Two. Just another few to go—
“An admirable performance, little sister.”
Dawn let out her breath. Amanda did, too. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it. Both of them turned around.
“Nicky,” Dawn said softly, “Nicky, if you’d just calm down—”
“Do as you suggested. Take Ms. Benning to your room.” His eyes swept over Amanda. She fought back the urge to smooth down her skirt, grasp her torn strap, fix her hair. Instead, she lifted her chin and met his look without blinking. “Give her something to wear. Let her make herself respectable and then bring her downstairs.”
“I am not a package to be brought downstairs or anywhere else, for that matter. Who do you think you are, giving orders to your sister about me? If you have something to say to me—”
“The matter is settled for the moment.”
“The matter is settled permanently.” She tore her hand from Dawn’s tight grasp. “I wouldn’t so much as pick out the wallpaper for your kitchen, let alone—”
“Get her out of here.” Nick waved an imperious hand. He knew he sounded like an ass, but what else was there to do? Dawn’s story had holes in it the size of the Grand Canyon. He was angry at her, angry at the Benning woman, but he was furious at himself for losing control in the bed that seemed to loom, stage center, a thousand times larger than life.
What in hell had he been thinking, to have almost made love to her?
He hadn’t been thinking, he decided grimly. That was the problem. His brain had gone on holiday, thanks to Amanda Benning’s clever machinations. A far more dangerous part of his anatomy had taken over.
But his thought processes were clear now. He wasn’t about to let this situation deteriorate any further, nor was he about to permit Amanda to walk away before he was certain of what she’d been up to.
“Go on,” he said to his sister. “Get her out of here and I’ll deal with you both when the night ends.”
“Deal with us?” Amanda’s voice rose. “You’ll deal with us?”
“Oh, he doesn’t really mean—”
“Silence!”
The command roared through the room. Amanda caught her breath. She’d never heard a man speak to a woman that way. Her own father had been strict, her stepfather could be crude, and her ex had specialized in sarcasm, but this was different. Nicholas al Rashid’s voice carried the ring of absolute authority. Shirtless and disheveled, there was still no mistaking the raw power that emanated from him.
She looked at Dawn and waited for her to respond, to stand up to her brother and tell him that she didn’t have to take orders.
To her horror Dawn bowed her head. “Yes, my lord,” she whispered.
Amanda stepped in front of her friend. “Now wait just a minute—”
“As for you,” Nick barked, “you will speak only when spoken to.”
“Listen here, you—you pathetic stand-in for a real human being—”
Nick grabbed her by the elbows and hoisted her to her toes. “Watch how you speak to me.”
“Watch how you speak to me, Your Horribleness. You might have your sister bowing and scraping like a slave, but not me!”
“Mandy,” Dawn pleaded, “stay out of this. Let me explain—”
&n
bsp; “Yes,” Nick said. He let go of Amanda and folded his arms. “Do that. Now that I think about it, why should I wait until later for an explanation? Explain to me why I found your so-called friend, your interior designer, taking photographs of my things with a spy camera.”
“I told you, it wasn’t a spy camera.”
“It was designed to be concealed.”
“It was designed to fit inside a pocket or a purse!”
Nick gave a cold smile. “Exactly.”
“It was not a spy camera, and if you hadn’t stomped it into pieces, I could prove it!”
“You will learn to speak when spoken to,” he growled. “And if you cannot manage that, I’ll lock you away until I’ve finished with my sister. Do you understand?”
Amanda’s heart bounced into her throat. He would do it, too. She could see it in his eyes.
“You’re despicable,” she said in a choked whisper. “How I could ever have let you—”
Nick said something in a language she didn’t understand. She shrieked as he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder and strode toward a large walk-in closet.