Testing her weight on her toes, Farah gingerly stepped forward, trying not to feel as though she was walking on stilts.
‘Take smaller steps,’ the prince advised roughly.
Farah’s head came up. ‘Smaller steps?’ She stared at him. ‘Have you seen the things on my feet?’
* * *
Yes, he had, and they were beautiful. She was beautiful, standing there scowling at him, and he wondered how a woman who had never genuinely smiled at him, who had never been anything but defiant in his presence, managed to drive him half-crazy to the point that, even now, he was contemplating taking her to bed regardless of who she was or who he was.
Would she be amenable to the idea? No, not likely, but he knew she’d been as lost in their interlude in the alleyway as he had been, and it probably wouldn’t take much effort to return her to that state of stupefied, delirious lust. It sure as hell wouldn’t take him long.
He saw a flash of vulnerability cross her delicate features as he continued to eat her up with his eyes and he realised she was nervous. A pang different from lust went through him.
‘These are not shoes,’ she said indignantly, raising the hem of her gown to reveal delicate stiletto sandals designed with lingerie and sex in mind. ‘I have no idea why women wear them.’
Zach swallowed heavily but it did nothing to dislodge the gravel from his voice. ‘They elongate the leg and highlight a woman’s calves.’ And she had sensational legs that went on forever. A sheen of sweat rose up along his hairline. Absolutely sensational.
She scowled. ‘I think they are meant to control women. Next you’ll ask me to darn your socks.’
‘I throw away my holey socks.’
‘Rich and wasteful. It figures.’
She lifted her nose at him and he ground his teeth. ‘That’s some opinion you have of me, sweetheart.’
‘Are you saying I’m wrong?’
‘Yes, you’re wrong.’ She sniffed as if he was a servant who had just offered her substandard fare. ‘And not only that but you’re prejudiced.’
That snapped her out of her holier-than-though repose. ‘I am not,’ she declared hotly.
The scent of jasmine and honey entwined together and invaded his senses: his favourite. He sighed, not wanting to fight with her. ‘Take my arm.’
She cocked an eyebrow. ‘Where would you like me to take it?’ she asked sweetly. ‘The garbage?’
He bit back a laugh and noticed her own lips twitching. So she had a sense of humour. Who knew? ‘As long as you don’t take a sharp object to it again, you can take it wherever you like.’
Surprise showed on her face at his rejoinder and then she laughed, a dead sexy, full-on, throaty chuckle he thought he could listen to forever.
Finally she stopped and he lifted his gaze to hers. ‘You can lean your weight on me until you get used to the heels,’ he offered gruffly.
She hesitated before releasing a long breath and reluctantly placed her hand on his arm as if she were touching dynamite.
Zach lifted her hand off his forearm and placed it in the crook of his elbow. When he felt her fingers curl into the fabric of his robe and cling, he felt as if a heavy object had been placed on his chest. He rubbed it but the sensation remained. So did the memory of the way she had fit in his arms earlier; the heat of her response to his kisses.
He swore under his breath and she glanced at him from beneath kohl-rimmed eyes, her long hair falling forward over one shoulder. Whether she was dressed to the nines as she was now, or wearing combat trousers and an old tunic with her hair matted against her head, she was more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen in his life. Which couldn’t be right. Surely Amy’s classically cool beauty had touched him more than Farah’s exotic dark looks?
He knew bedding the woman at his side would probably put an end to the hunger he felt for her but that wasn’t an option. She was the daughter of his enemy and wanting it to be otherwise was just a fool’s errand.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
The words could have come from a petulant teenager to a parent and he shook his head. ‘Because I didn’t expect to find you so beautiful.’
A pink flush rose along her cheekbones and she dampened her lips. By Allah...
‘You’re just saying that to try and lull me so that I won’t try to escape again,’ she said.
No, he hadn’t been, he thought grimly, but now he knew that she intended to do so—even though he had trusted her when she’d agreed to cooperate with him earlier—and he felt like an idiot. ‘You know that gold sash draped so artfully around your waist?’ he asked.