And as usual with him around, she felt the spacious, ingeniously decorated room shrink and fade away, her senses converging like a spotlight on him.
It was always a shock to the system beholding him. He was without any doubt the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen. Damn him.
She’d bet it was beyond anyone alive not to be awed by his sheer grandeur and presence, to not gape as they drank in the details of what made him what he was. She remembered with acute vividness the first time she’d seen him. She had gaped then and every time she’d seen him afterward, trying to wrap her mind around how anyone could be endowed with so much magnificence.
He lived up to his pseudonym—a pirate from a fairy tale, imposing, imperious, mysterious with a dark, ruthless edge to his beauty, making him…utterly compelling.
It still seemed unbelievable that he was Johara’s brother. Apart from both of them possessing a level of beauty that was spellbinding, verging on painful to behold, they looked nothing alike. While Johara had the most amazing golden hair, molten chocolate eyes and thick cream complexion, Aram was her total opposite. But after she’d seen both their parents, she’d realized he’d manifested the absolute best in both, too.
His eyes were a more dazzling shade of azure than that of his French mother’s—the most vivid, hypnotic color she’d ever seen. From his mother, too, and her family, he’d also inherited his prodigious height and amplified it. He’d added a generous brush of burnished copper to his Armenian-American father
’s swarthy complexion, a deepened gloss and luxury to his raven mane and an enhanced bulk and breadth to his physique.
Then came the details. And the devil was very much in those. A dancing, laughing, knowing one, aware of the exact measure of their unstoppable influence. Of every slash and hollow and plane of a face stamped with splendor and uniqueness, every bulge and sweep and slope of a body emanating maleness and strength, every move and glance and intonation demonstrating grace and manliness, power and perfection. All in all, he was glory personified.
Now, exuding enough charisma and confidence to power a small city, he towered across from her, calmly sweeping his silk black jacket out of the way, shoving his hands into his pockets. The movement had the cream shirt stretching over the expanse of virility it clung to. Her lips tingled as his chiseled mouth quirked up into that lethal smile.
“I submit a motion that I have been unjustly tried.”
Aram’s obvious enjoyment, not to mention his biding his time before springing his presence on her again, made retaliation a necessity.
Her voice, when she managed to operate her vocal cords, thankfully sounded cool and dismissive. “And I submit you’ve not only gotten away with your crimes but you’ve been phenomenally rewarded for them.”
“If you’re referring to my current business success, how are you managing to correlate it to my alleged crimes?”
She fought not to lick the dryness from her lips, to bite into the numbness that was spreading through them. “I’m managing because you’ve built said success using the same principles with which you perpetrated those crimes.”
His eyes literally glittered with mischief, becoming bluer before her dazzled ones. “Then I am submitting that those principles you ascribe to me and your proof of them were built around pure circumstantial evidence.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “So you’re not after a retrial. What you really want is your whole criminal record expunged.”
He raised those large, perfectly formed hands like someone blocking blows. “I wouldn’t dream of universally dismissing my convictions.” His painstakingly sculpted lips curled into a delicious grin. “That would be pushing my luck. But I do demand an actual primary hearing of my testimony, since I distinctly remember one was never taken.”
Although she felt her heart sputtering out of control, she tried to match his composure outwardly. “Who says you get a hearing at all? You certainly didn’t grant others such mercy or consideration.”
The scorching amusement in those gemlike eyes remained unperturbed. “By others you mean Maysoon, I assume?”
“Hers was the case I observed firsthand. As I am a stickler for justice, I will not pass judgment on those I know of only through secondhand testimonies and hearsay.”
His eyes widened on what looked like genuine surprise.
Yeah, right. As if he could feel anything for real.
“That’s very…progressive of you. Elevated, even.” At her baleful glance, something that simulated seriousness took over his expression. “No, I mean it. In my experience, when people don’t like someone, they demonize them wholesale, stop granting them even the possibility of fairness.”
She pursed her lips, refusing to consider the possibility of his sincerity. “Lauding my merits won’t work, you know.”
“In granting me a hearing?”
“In granting you leniency you haven’t earned and certainly don’t deserve.” He opened his mouth, and she raised her hand. “Don’t you think you’ve taken your joke far enough?”
For a moment he looked actually confused before a careful expression replaced uncertainty. “What joke, exactly?”
She rolled her eyes. “Spare me.”
“Or you’ll spear me?” At her exasperated rumble, he raised his hands again, the coaxing in his eyes rising another notch. “That was lame. But I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I am barely keeping up with you.”
“Yeah, right. Since you materialized behind me like some capricious spirit, you’ve been ready with something right off the smart-ass chart before I’ve even finished speaking.”