‘I need your frank thoughts on the women you’ve met. Otherwise, how can I tailor my search to your requirements?’
Dark pewter eyes held his and he read determination there. Unfortunately he still yearned to see them silver with passion.
He shot to his feet and stalked to the window, looking out onto the city, fighting the adrenaline surge in his blood. Every muscle tightened, ready for decisive action. As if he weren’t a modern monarch but one of his ancestors, men famous for taking what they wanted and negotiating later.
Salim breathed deep and kept his gaze on the rooftops, turning bronze and gilt as the sun waned. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Who would you like to see again? There are limits on getting to know people in formal settings. In a more relaxed atmosphere—’
‘None.’
‘What? You don’t want to spend time withanyof them?’
He turned and saw her composure had cracked. Her mouth hung open for a second until she snapped it shut.
Her eyes sparked fire and, despite his best intentions, Salim felt satisfaction curl deep inside. He liked watching Rosanna flare up like that, even in anger if he couldn’t have anything else.
He disliked it when she hid all that passion. Even if it was the correct, cautious thing to do, the sort of thing he was trying to do himself. It felt like fraud.
Salim put his hands behind his back, standing taller, knowing he was on dangerous ground. He felt it in every pore. As if he’d wandered into a treacherous bed of quicksand that looked innocent but could devour an unwary man.
When Rosanna spoke her voice was perfectly modulated. ‘It would be helpful, Your Majesty, if we could go through each one and you told me why they weren’t suitable.’
They were back toYour Majesty?
He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d called her Ms MacIain today, careful to observe the formalities in public. But it had been more than that; he’d been angry with himself, and with his feelings for her. He’d done all he could to avoid being alone with her.
Face it, Salim. You were running scared!
It was a first for him. One he didn’t like.
So he’d snapped at her. Done his best to distance himself at the museum, channelling his brother at his most haughty. Yet it hadn’t worked. He’d still wanted her.
‘As you wish. Run through the list.’
‘Right then. Let’s start with Lady Charlotte.’
‘She’s allergic to the Dhalkur.’
‘Sorry?’ Rosanna goggled at him. ‘How can she be allergic to a country?’
‘When we drove to the edge of the desert she was worried about getting sand blown into her hair. Plus she fretted that such a dry climate would dehydrate her skin.’ He watched Rosanna’s expression grow horrified.
‘I’m so sorry. I had no idea. She sounded so good on paper, and when we talked. She didn’t mention anything like that.’
Rosanna frowned, clearly blaming herself for not picking that up earlier.
‘It’s not the sort of thing you could discover from a search.’ Yet that frown didn’t shift. He let his mouth curl. ‘She did assure me that she functions perfectly as long as she has twenty-four-hour air-conditioning.’
Salim watched a ripple soften the line of Rosanna’s flattened lips. Then he heard a gurgle of laughter.
He felt it like a trickle of heat winding through his body, leaving him even more aware of the fact they were alone in his private space. ‘You weren’t to know. I expect she deliberately kept some things to herself until she got here.’
She shook her head and made a note. ‘How about Jazmin?’
‘A lovely woman and on paper she met my criteria. Especially with her first-hand knowledge of the region.’
‘And in person?’