“I’m aware. Leave it with me.”
Kalil handed a simple piece of paper to Tamir and then disappeared swiftly.
Tamir looked at the woman across from him, and for the first time since setting this plan in motion, he felt a tiny niggle of doubt. She was, after all, a human being. Not his to control, yet he was controlling her. Effortlessly.
“Sign this, Olivia.” He passed the sheet of paper to her then pulled a pen from his breast pocket.
She took it and looked at the paper. “It’s in Talidarian.”
“It simply reiterates what you’ve already agreed to.”
She knew she shouldn’t sign it. After all, only an idiot would sign a document they didn’t comprehend. She looked down at the pen. “Is this real gold?”
“Yes.”
She flicked a disdainful look towards him. “What does it say?”
His eyes narrowed. “Nothing you haven’t already agreed to, and in the presence of my security chief. This is simply a formality. Sign it or not, it’s your decision.”
Olivia bit down on her lip, staring at the black and white shapes. He was right. She’d already verbally agreed to their deal. What else did she have to lose? She scrawled her name on the page, and looked up into his darkly challenging gaze.
“My assistant Eleni has organised a wardrobe for you in the palace. However, there is a gown you will need to wear when we land. It’s in the bedroom.”
“Oh.”
“Come.” He stood, and held a hand to her. “I will help you.”
Olivia’s enormous green eyes linked with his. The uncertainty he felt in them was a palpable force, punching him in the gut and making him experience a fresh wave of guilt. “I don’t need help.”
“Nonetheless…” He murmured, linking his fingers through hers and pulling her out of the seat. She fell into step beside him, but felt like she was betraying everything she held dear by being such a pushover. Her eyes drifted to the group of staff at the rear of the plane. Perhaps twenty men, and a handful of women, were involved in their own duties. Some were quietly speaking to one another, and others were sitting silently.
None of them so much as looked in Tamir’s direction, as he moved deeper into the plane. He moved past his staff, past two closed doors, and then into a final door.
The bedroom was as perfectly appointed as one might find in a luxury hotel. A king size bed, with a chandelier above it, was central in the room. A wardrobe, albeit bolted to the wall, was beside it, and a desk in the corner. Apart from the distinctive windows, nothing about this felt remotely plane-like.
Tamir released his grip on Olivia’s hand and walked across to the wardrobe. He removed a turquoise dress and a transparent sheath of fabric.
“Undress yourself,” he commanded, running his tanned fingers over the hanger and removing the dress.
Olivia stood nervously at the entrance of the room. She was hovering on the threshold, unsure of what to expect. Certainly unsure of how to behave.
She was the proverbial rabbit in the headlights, her eyes huge, her face pale. Tamir’s annoyance was obvious in every tense line of his muscular frame. He tossed the dress onto the bed and moved to Olivia, closing the door with his foot.
“Are you nervous?” He demanded, removing her jacket swiftly, then unfastening her shirt buttons.
Olivia made a sound of surprise and lifted her hands to shove his away. He continued as though she hadn’t even made the attempt. “Nervous?” Her voice was croaky.
“About your obligations to me.”
She swallowed. “No.” She lowered her gaze. Nervous was the wrong word. She was sad. She was hurt. She was, if she were to be completely honest with herself, feeling even a little sorry for herself. Sure, she knew that wasn’t a worthy trait, but she felt bitterly disappointed that a night with this sexy stranger had turned into… this. The first time she’d done something so completely reckless, and it had backfired spectacularly.
Olivia was forced to acknowledge that her instincts about Tamir had been completely wrong. Far from being a handsome and mysterious stranger, he was a diabolical dictator. And damn it, she still wanted him. She might hate him on some level, but she also desperately craved his touch.
“Then get changed.”
She nodded jerkily. She had agreed to this. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her mental struggle with it. She lay her jacket and shirt down on the bed. They were mocking her. The outfit she’d chosen earlier that day because it had seemed ‘safe’. Corporate and reassuring, an outfit designed to keep the tug of desire at bay.
She stepped out of her pants and placed them on the bed, too. In only her bra and underpants, she strode across to Tamir. His eyes were hooded, his expression inscrutable, as he lifted the turquoise dress and passed it to her.