Olivia felt her chest squeeze tightly. Some had. Most had seen her as a convenience and only that. Of course, the curse of her generous curves meant all men stared, not just her clients. She’d become used to that.
“Only my professional services are ever on offer,” she said, her voice thick with caution.
“You mean to say that these men didn’t try to entice you into their beds too? To add you to the list of women they’ve slept with?”
Olivia side-stepped him now. It was a matter of self-preservation. “What they did or didn’t attempt is none of your concern. I would never do that, anyway.”
“Do what?” He followed her, his expression thick with the maelstrom of feelings he was navigating.
“Sleep with a client,” she hissed, then took a deep breath and forced herself to stop walking. She almost bumped into him.
“Or drink with one,” he said ironically, for he fully intended to share a scotch with this woman, if not his bed.
As if on cue, one of the security guards appeared at the door, followed by a member of hotel staff. The bottle was mid-size, over forty years old, and the label was gold with swirling black writing.
“Thank you,” she said brusquely and took the bottle from the tray. “We have glasses. You can go.”
Both the hotel concierge and security agent disappeared almost instantly.
“I will not drink with you, either,” she said when they were alone.
“Then I’ll have tea.”
She unscrewed the top of the bottle. It was the fourth of its kind she’d opened, and each time she’d marvelled at a single container of alcohol being worth more than fifty thousand dollars.
She pulled a glass from the bar and poured it neat. She handed it to him without speaking and he took it with both hands, his e
yes moving beyond her to the view of the city beneath them.
“Why do you care?”
“Care?” The smell of the scotch was magnificent.
“About my previous clients.”
His lips lifted derisively. “I don’t particularly.”
“Then why ask about them?”
“Because, Olivia, right now, I want to be distracted and I don’t think just talking to you is going to cut it. Frankly, I’d like to put your delightful lips to better use.”
Her mouth dropped and she spun around, unable to look at him. It was her fantasy come true, and yet it wasn’t. It was sexy and sleazy in equal measure. When she spoke her words were ragged. “Are you actually propositioning me?”
“I highly doubt I am the first man to do so.”
He wasn’t, it was true. But he was the first man she’d really wanted. The first man she’d fantasised about.
“Wow.” She blinked her eyes shut, and so didn’t see Zamir move to her. She felt his body right behind her; his strong, firm body, and she shivered. She knew she should move away.
He placed the glass onto the coffee table beside them and then put both of his hands on her shoulders. He ran his fingers down her arms, and then back to her shoulders. He felt her shiver at his touch and he smiled. It was almost too easy.
For the past two years, Zamir had been careful. He’d had lovers, of course, but he’d selected them with great thought, to ensure their affairs would not reach the headlines. Prior to that, when Ra’if had been heir and Zamir had been less in the spotlight, he’d enjoyed indulging his libido whenever it pleased him.
And in that moment, he craved to indulge it with Olivia Henderson. Seducing her would not be difficult. But working with her afterwards might be. He pushed the concern aside.
He wanted her. And he somehow knew she would blot out the pain of the day from his mind.
“It is only sex,” he whispered in her ear, before pressing his kiss to the sensitive flesh at the base of her neck.