A Diamond for the Sheikh's Mistress

But Zafir was the first physically powerful man who had connected with Kat on another level and she hadn’t instinctively shied away from him. To the contrary. And now she was feeling that same pull—as if her body was a magnet, aligned only to his and no one else’s.

She closed her eyes for a second, as if that would help fight his pull, and then she felt the weight of the stone land on her upper chest. It was warm, not cold, and she instinctively reached up to touch it, feeling the pointed end. The metal of the collar was cool where it touched her skin.

Zafir’s fingers brushed the back of her neck as he closed the clasp and then they were gone, and the necklace felt heavy around Kat’s neck. He came and stood in front of her, looking at the stone and then at her, critically.

‘Move back,’ he commanded.

Kat felt an urge to resist his autocratic demand, but she did as he asked, taking a step back.

This is just a job and he’s your employer, she repeated to herself like a mantra.

Those impenetrable grey eyes raked her up and down. He walked around her, and even though she’d endured years of people inspecting her like a brood mare, she felt restless under Zafir’s intense gaze. Self-conscious. The top of the liner which sat between her leg and the prosthesis suddenly felt itchy, and she had to stop herself from reaching down to touch it.

Zafir came and stood in front of her again, that gaze boring into her, making her skin heat up.

‘Stunning,’ he pronounced. ‘You’re per—’

‘Don’t say that word!’ Kat interrupted in a rush, immediately regretting it when Zafir’s eyes narrowed on her.

Of course Zafir ignored her. ‘Perfect? Well, you are.’

Kat felt very aware of her leg, and the discomfort of getting used to the new prosthesis. She felt like a fraud, and longed to pull the necklace off. The weight of it was oppressive now, and a panicky sensation was rising.

She couldn’t do this.

She turned around and bent her head forward, saying tightly, ‘Can you take it off, please?’

There was no movement for a second, but then Zafir’s hands were at the back of her neck. She caught the diamond in her hands when the clasp was undone and turned around, holding it out to Zafir.

He was too close. Kat held up the necklace, silently begging Zafir to take it and put some space between them. Finally he did, and stepped aside to put it back safely in the box.

Kat immediately walked over to a window, needing the illusion of air at least. She put her hand to her throat and felt for a moment as if she wouldn’t be surprised to see that the necklace had left some kind of a mark.

Like the mark Zafir left on you? Inside where no one can see?

The panic rose. Kat turned around and looked at Zafir, who was shutting the box again but watching her. So far they’d exchanged only a handful of words, but the silent communication between them was almost deafening. It was too much.

‘I’m sorry,’ she blurted out. ‘I don’t think I can do this after all.’

Zafir put his hands in his pockets, unperturbed by her outburst. ‘You’re a professional model. This is probably one of the easiest jobs you’ve ever been asked to do—walk amongst a crowd for a few hours over a handful of evenings.’

It was so much more than that.

Zafir’s easy dismissal made Kat see red. ‘I’m not a model any more, Zafir. I haven’t done this in—’ She stopped short of saying exactly how long and amended it to, ‘Months.’

‘I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike,’ he drawled infuriatingly.

Kat had to force oxygen to her brain by taking a big deep breath. Zafir had no idea what he was really asking of her, and she had no intention of revealing all to the man who had so casually stepped on her heart.

Thank God, she thought now, I never actually told him I loved him.

‘Anyway,’ he said, prowling closer to where she stood in fight-or-flight mode, ‘it’s too late. You’ve signed the contract and, as per your request, a sizeable sum of upfront money has been already wired to your nominated account. No doubt to fill the black hole your debt created. Unless, of course,’ he added silkily, ‘you want to give the money back?’

Kat sagged. For a moment she’d forgotten. The money wasn’t to fill a debt hole—it was going straight to the rehabilitation clinic, whom she’d already informed about their unexpected windfall, much to their delight and relief. And to Julie, to reimburse her for what she’d paid for the cosmetic limb. Kat had insisted, in spite of Julie’s protests, wanting to feel as if she was at least starting to make her own way again.

So, yes, it was too late.

Straightening her shoulders, she called upon the inner strength she’d never known she possessed until recently and said, ‘No, I’m not giving the money back and, yes, I’ve agreed to the job so I’ll keep my word. I’m going to change into my own clothes now, and then I’d like to go home.’