“I am sorry you had to hear that.”
Emily’s head snapped up to meet his hot gaze. He’d moved closer to her and her pulse skidded with unwelcome heat. “I don’t want you for myself,” she blurted. Her cheeks blazed.
Great.
Kadir quirked an eyebrow. “Really? I am told I am quite delightful. How stunning to encounter a woman who does not want me.”
For a moment she didn’t know what to say. And then she realized he was teasing her. Emily dropped her gaze again. She needed this job and she wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize it. He might be humored this time, but she could not let it pass. “Forgive my outburst, Your Highness.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Lenore was incredibly rude to you.”
“It won’t happen again, I assure you.”
He laughed. “Oh, I think it will.”
Emily could only stare at him, her pulse a drumbeat in her throat, her fingers. And then she realized he meant the scene with Lenore.
“Don’t look so worried, Miss Bryant,” he continued, his voice smooth as silk, hard as steel. “Lenore will not be back. But there will no doubt be others.”
Emily wanted to roll her eyes. She resisted the urge. Kadir’s eyebrow quirked again.
“You wish to say something?”
“Your breakfast will be here any moment.”
“That is not it.” His voice was a knowing murmur as his gaze dropped to her lips, back up again. Shockingly, she felt as if he’d touched her. As if he’d taken one of his golden fingers and slid it across the pad of her lips. He grinned, and her insides turned to liquid. She was not happy about it either. “Come, Emily. We’ve known each other for nearly four years now. You know more about my life than anyone besides me.”
He’d called her Emily a handful of times. It always rattled her the way his accent slid over the syllables of her name. Like a caress. Like the touch of a lover.
As if she would know what that was like these days. It had been so long since she’d last had sex she couldn’t even remember when it was. She traveled too much, moving with Kadir as he trotted the globe and built his skyscrapers. It left little time for a personal life.
Except for when they were in Chicago. Then she took time to go see her dad, to make sure he had everything he needed. Dating was hardly a blip on her radar compared to that.
“You pay me to keep your life in order, not to advise you on it.”
“And yet you wanted to say something. I could see it in your expression. The way your lips pursed ever so slightly. The downward tilt of your eyebrows, the flare of your nostrils. The green fire in your eyes. I would like to know what it was.”
“I prefer to keep my job.” Her voice contained an edge of tartness that she couldn’t quite control. The green fire in her eyes?
“And you shall. I give you leave to say what you wish. I’d rather not have you pop from holding it in, Miss Bryant.”
Emily sighed. He wasn’t going to give up until she’d spoken. If she knew anything about this man, she knew that. She’d watched him in negotiations, watched the way he closed in on his prey like a hawk, circling ever closer, until the moment he snatched them up and got precisely what he wanted, whether it was a bargain on steel, a commitment to sell only to him, incentives on a piece of land or a premium from someone who desperately wanted his company to build their new skyscraper.
“I was going to say that it was ridiculous to expect more of the same. That perhaps if you conducted your, er, affairs a little differently, they might not get to this stage.”
He looked amused. Heat flared in her belly.
“And how should I conduct my affairs? I would imagine that swearing off women for good would do it. But so far as I like women—and I certainly do—there will always be some who think I am going to make them my princess. They never take it kindly when they find out it is not going to happen.”
“Then perhaps you should choose women based on their intellect and not their bra size.”
He burst out laughing and a prickle of something ran up her spine. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even embarrassment. Perhaps it was relief. Relief that she’d said the words after all.
“I will take your charming suggestion under advisement, I assure you.”
“You did ask.”
“Indeed I did.” He raised his arms, stretching like a supple, sleek cat. The robe fell open to reveal the tight muscles of his abdomen—along with that damn arrow of hair again. Thankfully, he was wearing a pair of black silk boxers that were perfectly decent. Emily averted her gaze as her heart rate picked up once more. Fresh fire licked across her skin, shortened her breath.
She forced it down again, buried it beneath the mountain of decorum and duty she always lived by. She was not the sort of person to be ruled by urges. She was not the sort of person to have urges—not anymore. She’d worked very hard to make sure of that.
So what on earth was the matter with her today? He was devilishly attractive, but that was nothing new. She’d thought herself inoculated a long time ago. Apparently, he could still rev up her pulse under the right circumstances.
Perhaps she should make an appointment with her doctor. Her hormones were surely out of whack or something. It was the only explanation.
Kadir moved with liquid grace, sauntering back into his bedroom while Emily stood and gulped in air. He didn’t close the door and she soon heard the sound of the shower. She imagined him dropping the robe, sliding the silk boxers down his lean, hard thighs—
Emily gripped her notebook hard enough to make her fingers ache. Then she smoothed her hair, straightened her clothing even though it was perfectly straight already, and went to check on Kadir’s breakfast.
* * *
The day had been long and productive. Kadir sat in the limo as it moved through the brightly lit streets of Paris and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, easing the kinks of sitting at a desk for the past few hours. He’d been going over the projections for his newest project. This office building in Paris’s business district was simply the latest in a series of buildings he’d constructed over the past couple of years.
But he loved the process, loved watching the steel skeleton rise high above the city and take on a life of its own. This building wasn’t as tall as some he’d built, but it was modern and sleek and efficient. The company that had hired him would be very pleased when he was finished. He prided himself upon it.
Beside him, his assistant typed away on her laptop. He slanted a glance toward her. Miss Emily Bryant was quite possibly the best assistant he’d ever had. She was eager to work, professional, and she’d taken over his life with the kind of efficiency he valued.
Nothing escaped her notice. Nothing remained undone. In spite of this morning’s episode, a thousand Lenores could not ruffle her calm for long.
He’d come to look forward to her marching into his room, in whatever city they might be staying in, and standing over him in her crisp black-and-white—or sometimes navy-blue or gray—business suits and ugly shoes as she told him about his day.
Emily was blessedly uncomplicated. The only female in his life who was. Thank goodness he wasn’t attracted to her, or he would no doubt ruin what was the longest relationship with a woman—unrelated to him—that he’d ever had.
He thought of her this morning, telling him to choose women based on intellect rather than bra size, and wanted to laugh again. She’d shocked and amused him at the same time. He’d asked her opinion, but that was not the answer he’d expected. Emily was always so circumspect that it hadn’t crossed his mind she had anything remotely sarcastic to say.
He’d loved it because it was so unexpected from his proper assistant. That was something he almost never got in his relationships with anyone: honesty. No one wanted to disagree with a prince.
His mobile phone began to buzz. He took it from his pocket and handed it to Emily. He was too tired to deal with anyone just now. She answered with that voice of hers that sounded so young and fresh, as though she was still sixteen instead of twenty-five. Kadir closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. Tonight, he would sleep the sleep of the dead. No parties, no manipulative fashion models, no distractions.
“Your Highness.” Emily sounded a touch breathless. Her pale green eyes were wide as she held out the phone. “It’s your father.”
Copyright © 2014 by Lynn Raye Harris
ISBN-13: 9781460331316
THE ONLY WOMAN TO DEFY HIM
Copyright © 2014 by Carol Marinelli
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
The Only Woman to Defy Him Page 17