‘It’s safe.’
‘I know that too.’ She gnawed on her lower lip, her eyes clouded, but after a moment she sighed, surrendering despite her first response. ‘Well? How do I find it?’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘THIS PLACE IS...’
She looked around, wishing she didn’t find the room so incredibly sumptuous and sensual. ‘I mean...’
His smile was sardonic. ‘Yes?’ But he knew how she felt. Shirtless, wearing only a pair of slim-fitting black trousers, he prowled towards her, capitalising on the overwhelm a space such as this had given her.
The carpets were a deep red in colour, the furnishing a similar colour, velvet, with gold details. There were chairs but in the middle of the space, making it very obvious exactly what the room was to be used for, was the most enormous bed Johara had seen. It could easily accommodate ten people.
&
nbsp; Her mouth felt dry as she stepped towards it, studying it with a curiosity she couldn’t resist.
‘What’s that?’ She ran her finger over an ornate brass hook that hung in the centre of the bed’s head.
‘For handcuffs.’
She spun around to face him, oddly guilty. ‘Handcuffs?’ The question squeaked out of her.
He prowled closer, and the nearer he got, the faster her pulse went. She bit down on her lip as he grabbed her wrists, rubbing his thumb over them. ‘Or rope. Or silk. Whatever your preference.’
Her eyes moved back to the bed, as desire ran the length of her spine.
‘Does it tempt you?’
She shivered quite openly now, lifting her eyes to his, uncertainty in their depths. Yes, she wanted to say. It tempted her—a lot. But only with him! It was a fantasy she’d never had before—never even thought to have. But with Amir, the idea of being tied up and made love to was, perhaps, the most intoxicating thing she’d ever contemplated.
So she clung to outrage instead, because she was aware of how dangerous her supplication had become, how completely she’d surrendered to Amir and his ways.
‘I just can’t believe there’s a place like this in your palace. A harem!’
His smile showed he knew exactly how she felt, and why she was intent on denying it.
‘It hasn’t been used since my great-grandfather’s reign.’
She looked away, her eyes betraying her and straying to the hook once more, her nipples straining against the silk fabric of her bra.
She was fighting a losing battle.
‘So what do you do when you’re dating a woman?’ she prompted, needing to focus on something other than this overtly sexual room, and the hook that would accommodate handcuffs just perfectly.
He tilted his head, waiting for her to continue. ‘Are you asking if I bring women here?’ he prompted, gesturing to the bed.
‘God, no.’ She shook her head urgently, not wanting that image in her mind. ‘I just meant...do you date, publicly? Can women come to your room?’
‘I can do whatever I want,’ he said gently. ‘I’m Sheikh.’ He pressed a finger to her chin, lifting her face to his. ‘It is for you that we must be secret about this—and for the sake of the peace treaty.’
She nodded. ‘So if I were just some woman you’d met, you’d have me delivered to your room whenever it suited?’
His laugh was little more than a growl. ‘You make it sound so archaic. So one-sided. If you were just a woman I’d met,’ he corrected, ‘I would invite you for dinner. We would share a meal and then I would ask you if you wanted to come to my room. The choice would be—as it is now—yours.’
Her heart turned over in her chest. She had the suspicion she was being combative and she didn’t know why. Something was needling her, making her frustrated and wanting to lash out.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said truthfully, lifting her fingers to his chest and pressing them there. ‘I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I just didn’t expect this room to be so—’