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She flushed, and shook her head.

Tamir was pleased. By her desire for him, and her willingness to admit to it. “Bring him. Allow him to act as your escort.”

“My escort?” She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “That’s a completely out-of-date concept.”

“Not where I’m from,” he murmured. “Someone like you deserves protection.” Especially from him. Out of nowhere, he saw her as a gentle doe, and he the buck, pursuing and hunting her for pleasure. It was an unpleasant image. He stepped away from her, ignoring the physical jolt he experienced at the distance. “And I’m happy to be old fashioned if it gets you to my home.”

CHAPTER TWO

It was madness. She stood inside the imposing gold doors, staring around the cavernous space with eyes that were round like saucers. “Jack. This place is…”

“Ridiculous,” he responded with a grim frown, unsure if he was most impressed by the pure gold railings, or the enormous vases of flowers, or the paintings that hung along the walls that were obviously the creation of Renaissance masters. The floor was covered in marble tiles, and the vaulted ceilings were at least three stories high.

Olivia reached down and laced her fingers through Jack’s, taking immediate comfort from the contact with her friend.

“What’s the plan, anyway, Olivia?”

She shrugged, and toyed with the simple gold necklace she wore. She had dressed in a black pantsuit with a cream silk blouse, and a pair of heels. Her hair had been straightened then pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head. She’d kept her make up minimal. She’d deliberately dressed as she might have for a first visit to a prospective client. It was a form of armour, to wear clothes that screamed professional distance.

Because deep down, the way Tamir Al’ani made her feel was the most terrifying thing she’d ever had to face.

“The plan is to make yourselves at home in my embassy.” Tamir strode through the foyer, his eyes immediately dropping to the way Olivia was clutching Jack’s hand. She dropped it, a guilty flush brightening her complexion.

She had a moment, to observe him, as he crossed the tiles. He was wearing a slate grey suit, obviously designed for his frame alone. His shirt was a crisp white, and he had huge diamond cufflinks which, she suspected, were entirely real. His shoes were black, and polished to a high sheen. His dark hair was brushed back from his face, drawing attention to his golden tan and dark, brooding eyes.

Her heart immediately ratcheted up a notch, and breathing felt a laborious business. Jack ceased to exist. The embassy was just a room, not impressive in the slightest. How could anything be impressive in the vicinity of Tamir?

She didn’t smile. She couldn’t. Her mouth was filled with concrete dust.

“Jack,” He greeted the other man with a greater degree of formality than he’d had the night before. He was marking his turf. Olivia recognised it, and she might have been amused by it, except nothing about the quicksand she’d stepped into pleased her.

“Geez, I don’t know what to call you.” It was a disarmingly naïve admission from her friend, and Olivia smiled at him reassuringly.

“Tamir is fine,” the Sheikh said dismissively. His eyes were trained on Olivia’s face. He had no interest in her boy-band wannabe friend.

“Jack, I have some artefacts I’d like Olivia to take a look at. You are welcome to join us, or my assistant can give you a tour of the grounds.”

Jack looked at Olivia. “What would you like?


“I’ll be fine, Jack. You go have a look around.” In truth, all she wanted was to be alone with Tamir. She hadn’t slept a wink all night. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but acting on instinct seemed to be the only option in that moment.

“Eleni,” he called, without looking away from Olivia. A tall, buxom woman dressed in a purple lace dress and a sheer purple scarf walked elegantly towards them. She wore sky-high heels that made a click click sound on the marble floor, and her dark hair tumbled out of the scarf, like big, shining curls. Jack, it was obvious, was taken with the woman from first sight.

“If you’ll follow me, sir.”

Olivia watched them go with a sense of growing anxiety. Though she’d brought Jack for protection, she’d dismissed him just as soon as she could.

“How do you know him?” Tamir’s words were tinged with coldness, pulling Olivia’s gaze back to his face.

“Jack?” She frowned. “We met years ago.”

“How do you know him?”

She lifted her eyes to his face. Though his words were serious, she wasn’t intimidated. She felt oddly at ease with him. Her frown deepened. “His family had a collection that was offered for auction. My professor at university undertook the appraisal. I was top of the class. He asked me to go with him. And Jack was there.”

It was an answer that spawned a thousand more questions. “I see.” He didn’t. But he wanted to. “Have you been romantic with him?”


Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance