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She wasn’t surprised. The Xenakis features were strong, and each of her siblings and cousins had inherited their fair share, though she’d thankfully skipped the patrician nose and square jaw. “Yes,” she said with an encouraging nod.

“Have we met before?”

She shook her head, but the action somehow brought her closer to him, and little goosebumps danced across her whole body.

“No, Your Highness.”

“Nobody calls me that.”

“Why not? It’s your title, isn’t it?”

“My brother is the Sheikh.”

“Yet you are still royal.”

His lips twisted. “Again, I feel your knowledge far exceeds mine.”

“For now, it does.”

“And you’re not going to enlighten me as to who you are?”

“Not just yet; I’m having too much fun and believe me, I need the cheering up.”

A smile flashed across his face, the work of an instant, before he resumed his brooding expression. “Why did you run out of there?”

“I didn’t—,” The denial died on her lips. “I did,” she agreed after a moment, grimacing. “I’m not much of a fan of crowds, these days,” she said, truthfully. In fact, her marriage, and the breakdown of it, had left her with a form of PTSD when it came to this kind of event. She’d gone from being a veritable It Girl, to suddenly being hounded minute by minute, her heartbreak and mistakes splashed over the internet for other people’s entertainment. Now, she desperately wanted, more than anything, to be anonymous and alone. To have your deepest grief exploited for the sale of magazines and clicks online was a truly awful thing.

“Then why come?”

“To support—a friend,” she said, concealing, at the last moment, her relationship to Phoebe and Anastasios.

“You are friends with the Xenakis family.”

“You could say that.”

“Then this is something we have in common.”

“Yes.” He was still standing close, his hands pressed to the jacket, and she trembled.

“You’re cold.”

“No.”

His eyes glinted with speculation. Her admission was brazen, yet she didn’t care. “Would you like to go inside?”

She blinked up at him and shook her head. “I need a little while longer.”

“Would you prefer to be alone?”

“I thought you were worried about my security?”

“I can go and watch you from over there,” he said with a nod of his head, indicating the end of the alley.

Something tingled at the tips of her fingers. She hadn’t felt this kind of desire since—no, not even her ex-husband had made her feel like this. There was a mindlessness to the pulsing rage of need that was settling in her belly. Excitement flared to life at the prospect of indulging those needs. But she couldn’t.

Not with someone like this. Not with one of her cousins’ best friends. Not with a Sheikh, for goodness’ sake.

“That’s okay.” Her voice emerged husky, and he expelled a slow breath.


Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance