She turned back to him, still struggling for the right way to finish her sentence, only to have the breath snag in her throat as a shudder rippled through her.
His eyes trapped her, ensnaring her in a blistering gaze that burned and sizzled her to the core. Whatever she had been going to say was incinerated in raw heat.
His heat.
He moved closer, reaching out a hand to cup her jaw. She flinched at his touch but his fingers held her firm, scorching the skin of her neck and chin. ‘Your eyes blaze when you talk of such things. They reflect the light like the facets of a well-cut stone. How appropriately they named you.’
She swallowed, a vain attempt to lubricate her ashen throat.
‘Such beautiful eyes. Tell me, is their beauty like your green landscape, lush and fertile, or is it a dangerous magnificence that shines within them? Which is it, I wonder?’
She shook her head, the little she was able, her tongue attempting to moisten her lips. ‘I don’t know.’ She raised a hand to his forearm. ‘I’ve never thought about it.’ Maybe she could brush him away… Then her hand met his arm, the sheer strength of his limb clearly evident through the fine-knit fabric. His arm was like steel, sculptured tensile steel.
There was no brushing this man away.
His head tilted to one side, his lips turned up into a lazy grin, as if amused by her attempts to rescue herself from his grasp. His grip relaxed.
‘Yet your prose suggests you are very perceptive. You see qualities in the desert that others miss. I find it difficult to believe you would not have the same talent when applied to people.’
No question which type you fall into, she thought in a rush. Tall, dark and dangerous. ‘I really don’t see how this is relevant,’ she murmured on a breath, closing her eyes for a second and wondering if he could have heard her over the hammering in her veins. ‘And I’d prefer it if you didn’t touch me.’
He raised his eyebrows in a way that suggested he didn’t believe her, but still he shrugged and relaxed his grip on her jaw.
‘As you wish,’ he said.
Her chin kicked up in relief, but it was to be short-lived as his large hand didn’t pull completely away but continued to sweep slowly down the line of her throat, searing a trail of scorching sensation. His fingers spanned the open neck of her dress, skimming lightly under the cross-over neckline before his hand finally withdrew.
She sucked in a breath as naked sensation skittered through her, a charge so electric that her breasts tingled and firmed.
She didn’t want him to touch her, didn’t want him anywhere near her, so why did her senses continue to hum, her breasts continue to swell, when his hand was long gone? The view out of the window stared blankly back at her, offering no answers, but there was no way she’d risk looking anywhere but outside the car, at least not until her breathing and pulse were back under control. Once they were in the palace she would have to stay right away from Sheikh Khaled. He was far too unpredictable, far too compelling.
Far too dangerous.
Yet a good measure of that danger came from within herself. There was no way she could deny she was attracted to him. His physical presence was enough to rock her to her foundations.
His touch was something else.
She’d just have to stay right out of his reach.
Something ahead caught her interest. There were buildings appearing in the twilight, low flat dwellings at first and then higher-rise, with balconies and the muted shadows of palm trees swaying against their walls. Domes of mosques and minarets interrupted the otherwise predominantly horizontal skyline until the approaching city centre skyscrapers changed the aspect to vertical. And there were people, gathered along the road, the lights from cigarettes like tiny fireflies spinning in the gathering darkness.
She was just about to turn and ask Khaled if they were in Hebra when their world exploded.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE car rocked with the noise and the force of the explosion as dazzling red and white light turned the interior of the car into a crazy frozen snapshot. She shrieked and jumped across the divide between them, throwing herself into Khaled’s arms and burying her head in his chest as a barrage of noise rained down on them.
His heartbeat sounded calm and steady in her ear; already she felt safer with his arms wrapped tightly around her, protecting her, keeping her safe.
More colours lit the sky, green, blue, as cheers from the onlookers filled the spaces between the blasts. Children squealed, not in terror, but in delight.
Fireworks, she realised the instant after she’d plastered herself to his chest; she was getting scared witless over a few fireworks.
And look where it had got her! She was practically sitting in his lap.