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A Diamond for the Sheikh's Mistress

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The event in London was even more impressive than the one in New York. Because of Zafir’s royal status, senior members of the British royal family were present, imbuing the classic surroundings of one of London’s oldest and most exclusive hotels with an elegance and gravitas Kat had never experienced before.

The ornate furnishings glittered under the flickering glow of hundreds of candles. A string quartet played on a dais at one end of the room. Pristine waiters moved silently and discreetly through the crowd, offering tantalising, exotic hors d’oeuvres prepared by Zafir’s Jandori chef and glasses of priceless champagne.

Tonight Kat was dressed in a long strapless white dress. A sheath of simplicity which helped to show the red diamond to its best advantage. Zafir hadn’t arrived at her suite to put the diamond around her neck earlier—it had been a stylist who had taken it from one of Noor’s guards to place around her neck—and Kat denied furiously to herself that she’d missed his presence and his touch.

When Rahul had met her to walk her down to the function room, which was in the same hotel where they would stay the night, he’d explained that Zafir had had to take an important conference call and sent his apologies.

She’d denied the little dart of disappointment and she’d ruthlessly quashed the relief she’d felt to see Zafir waiting outside the function room—pacing, actually—dressed once again in a classic tuxedo that did nothing to disguise his virile masculinity and everything to enhance it.

His gaze had swept her up and down. This evening her hair was tamed into a sleek bun, low at the back of her head, and she’d seen Zafir’s gaze rest on it and how his eyes had flared with something unreadable. In that moment she’d gone breathless, imagining that she could almost feel his desire to undo it and let her hair fall down in its habitual unruly tumble of waves. He’d always loved it down...and the memory of that had made her weak.

But then he’d extended his arm, and she’d walked forward as the doors had opened and they’d stepped through.

And now Kat was standing beside Zafir on a small podium as he spoke to the hushed crowd and told them of the myriad opportunities available for business and recreation in his country. Kat found herself forgetting that she was under a spotlight while Zafir’s deep and hypnotic voice painted a seductive picture of a land steeped in history and with boundless opportunities.

His love for his people and his country was evident in the passion in his voice, and she couldn’t stop a dart of surprise and pride because she’d had no idea that Zafir was so determined to be a force for change in his country. The vision he outlined was modern and progressive, and was now being met with resounding applause.

She’d underestimated him, and that unsettled her as he stepped off the podium and held out a hand to help her down. She wasn’t thinking, and she landed on her left leg a little awkwardly, wincing as the movement jarred her prosthesis. Any kind of steps, up or down, were more of a challenge than before.

Immediately he was sharp. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Fine—I just turned my ankle for a moment,’ she embellished quickly.

Zafir frowned. ‘Maybe we should have someone check it.’

Instant panic flooded her veins, turning her blood cold. ‘No, I’m fine. Really.’

She spent the rest of the evening with a bright smile plastered on her face, even as her discomfort increased. She needed to take her prosthesis off to adjust it, but Zafir wouldn’t leave her side and she was loath to attract his attention.

Finally, when she was wondering if the evening would ever end, the crowd thinned out and Zafir said, ‘I’ll take you to your suite and you can give the necklace back to the security guards for the night.’

Relief made her almost dizzy as he accompanied her out of the room and up in the elevator, with the ever-present Noor. Kat could be thankful for at least that much. As long as she wore the diamond, she wouldn’t be alone with Zafir.

Once in Kat’s suite, Noor stood at a respectful distance as Zafir took off the necklace and placed it into the box before handing it over.

Noor bowed her head. ‘Good night, Sire... Miss Winters.’

She left the room and they were alone. Before Kat could say a word, though, Zafir put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around so she had her back to him. Then his hands were on her hair, plucking out the pins that had been holding the tight bun in place. As she felt it loosen and start to unravel, the discomfort of her limb was forgotten momentarily at the sheer bliss of this... Zafir’s hands moving through her hair, massaging her skull.

His voice was low, husky. ‘I’ve imagined doing this all evening.’

His body was close behind her and she could feel his heat and the whipcord strength of him. So close. So seductive. Treacherously, something gave way inside her, as if it was too strong for her to keep holding it back. Almost without realising what she was doing, she turned and looked up.

Zafir went still. Kat was looking up at him, eyes wide and molten, cheeks flushed. Every instinct within him called for him to claim her—finally. But something stopped him...a memory, brutally vivid and brutally exposing.

Kat sensed the chill even before she saw the heat in Zafir’s eyes disappear. He dropped his hands and stepped back. She blinked, feeling vulnerable and hating herself for that small moment when he must have seen her desire laid bare.

When Zafir spoke he sounded harsh. ‘Go to bed, Kat. I have some meetings here in the morning. Rahul will accompany you to the airport after lunch.’

And then he turned and walked out, the door closing behind him with an incongruously soft click.

Kat felt a little dazed, not sure what had just happened. She looked around and sank down onto the nearest chair. She could feel the discomfort in her leg again, and pulled up her dress in order to start taking off her prosthetic limb. But then she stopped, realising she needed to get her crutches first.

Feeling seriously on edge and irritable, she went into the bedroom, cursing Zafir for scrambling her brain so much that she forgot the fundamental basics.

But what irritated her the most, as she retrieved her crutches and started to undress so she could take off her prosthesis, was the fact that if he hadn’t pulled back just now she’d most likely be on the nearest horizontal surface, giving up all her secrets to Zafir in the most humiliating way possible.



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