A Diamond for the Sheikh's Mistress

But I didn’t.

He didn’t have to bother saying that part. Before she could react, though, he put her arm firmly in his again and propelled her forward to the main entrance of the function room. Her anger dissolved into panic at the sight of the packed room.

He stopped there for a second and looked at her again. ‘Ready?’

No! she wanted to blurt out, but if she turned and ran she’d only have to face the red carpet again. There was literally nowhere to go except forward.

Not liking how symbolic this moment felt, Kat nodded jerkily and they stepped over the threshold of the room, its doors being held open by pristinely uniformed butlers.

Much like the hush outside when they’d arrived, as soon as they stepped in through the doorway everyone turned to look and there was an audible intake of breath. Kat realised that a spotlight rested on her—undoubtedly it was to showcase the diamond, not her, but she still felt utterly exposed.

Zafir took her arm from his and stepped to the side, leaving her feeling ridiculously bereft for a second. Then she heard his strong voice say, ‘May I present to you Kat Winters and the Heart of Jandor?’

* * *

The enthusiastic clapping and gasps of wonder at the sight of Kat and the gem had faded away, to be replaced by the excited chatter of hundreds of VIP guests.

Zafir noted the presence of high-ranking politicians mixed with award-winning actors and actresses, world champion athletes, prize-winning authors and everyone who was anyone with satisfaction. And yet his feeling of satisfaction somehow fell short.

He found he was more interested in where Kat was and with whom. Currently she was standing a few feet away from him, surrounded by a small goggle-eyed crowd. Irritated by this dent in his sense of satisfaction, Zafir cursed himself.

This was exactly what he’d envisaged, wasn’t it? To have one of the most beautiful women in the world standing amongst an awed crowd as she showcased his country’s famed jewel?

But if anything she outshone the diamond. The inky black of the dress and its clean lines showcased the perfection of Kat’s body. No other jewellery. Understated make-up. And not a bump or a mark or a blemish to mar that lustrous skin.

Zafir didn’t recall her being so pale before, but presumably if she hadn’t been travelling to exotic locations for fashion shoots, as she’d used to, then she’d lost her natural golden tan. And yet her skin seemed to glow even more. Like a pearl.

She was in profile to him now, and his gaze scanned down from the abundant dark hair artfully arranged in its chignon, to her high forehead, straight nose, lush mouth, delicate jaw and long, graceful neck.

The rare gem sat just below her collarbone, glowing as if lit from within by fire. Her shoulders were slim and straight. And then, as if compelled by the beat of his blood, his hungry gaze dropped to the voluptuous swells of her breasts.

Blood rushed to his groin and Zafir had to grit his jaw and use all of his control to stop making a complete fool of himself. He snapped his gaze back to her face, which he could see now was tense. Smiling, but tense.

He recalled how tightly she’d gripped his arm while on the red carpet, and how she’d wobbled precariously a couple of times as if her legs were unsteady. And the strangest thing... When he’d announced her arrival a short while before and watched her stand tall but alone, bathed in the spotlight, he’d felt a curious sense of pride, without even knowing why, exactly.

She turned her head then, as if sensing his intense regard, and looked at him, and before Zafir was even aware of what he was doing he ignored the veritable queue of people Rahul had lined up to speak to him and walked to Kat’s side.

* * *

Hours later Kat ached all over, and she sank down into the hot bath as much as she could, wishing she could submerge herself completely and forget how exposed she’d felt as she’d been paraded through that enormous room like a thoroughbred horse at a bloodstock auction.

And yet, to her surprise, Zafir had stayed by her side more or less constantly—even though she’d seen the frustration on his aide Rahul’s face as he’d tried to entreat Zafir to talk to this person or that person.

She didn’t like to admit that his presence had steadied her as much as it had unnerved her, and made her feel more capable of bearing up to the scrutiny—which had been of her as much as the gem. And that had been Zafir’s cynical plan all along, hadn’t it? To get the most out of bringing the notorious Kat Winters out of the woodwork?

Yet, a small voice pointed out, he hadn’t had to stay by her side like that. He could have quite easily ignored her all night...

But before she went down the dangerous path of believing that he’d stayed by her side out of concern or anything more, she reminded herself that Zafir’s motivations had undoubtedly been to make sure that she didn’t damage the Jandor ‘brand’ or upstage the diamond. And also because he was still messing with her head, not letting her forget the sensual threat he’d made.

At the end of the evening Zafir had been pulled aside to talk to an emissary from the American foreign office, and Rahul had come to let Kat know that she could hand back the gem if she so wished. Like a coward, she’d seized the opportunity, and he’d accompanied her to an anteroom where Noor had overseen the return of the gem to its box and it had been whisked safely away.

Then, when they’d re-emerged into the function room and Kat had seen that Zafir was still in conversation, she’d told Rahul that she was ready to leave.

Immediately he’d looked worried and said nervously, ‘I should check with the King—’

Kat had cut in more firmly than she’d felt, ‘I’m quite tired, and we have an early start to get to London in time for the function tomorrow evening, I’m sure you wouldn’t want the King to be displeased because I don’t appear rested.’

She’d almost felt sorry for how conflicted Rahul had looked, but eventually he’d agreed and had accompanied her down to the car and seen her off.