She smiled and left the room. A part of her wanted to believe his low, liquid chocolate voice had lingered over her name, but it was the same part of her that had been willing to believe that Gerald was a man of his word.
As she walked down the hallway toward her bedroom, she decided that despite the late hour, she still wasn’t sleepy. So she would take some time to review her list of what she had left to do to cancel the wedding. If nothing else, dealing with her broken past would remind her how important it was to be sensible in matters of the heart, and that falling for one’s boss was a slick, steep road to disaster.
Ten minutes later she went down the neatly printed list. She’d already had a carefully worded notice canceling the wedding sent out to all three hundred guests. The church, the hall, the caterer, the florist, and the musicians had been canceled. She was stuck with the dress. Dora glanced toward the closet, but she couldn’t see even a hint of white lace. That was because she’d shoved the garment all the way in the back. When she left the hotel, she would give it to the nearest thrift store. She never wanted to see that white gown again.
She left her desk and moved to the bed. Once there, she sank onto the firm mattress. Now, with the clarity of hindsight, it was easy to see how she’d come to be in such a mess, but at the time she’d been blind. Her own loneliness and emotional hunger had allowed her to believe that a slightly handsome, very selfish man was really a charming gentleman in disguise.
She’d worked for Gerald for nearly a year before anything romantic had happened. In that time she’d found herself daydreaming about him. Perhaps it was because she didn’t have anything in her life except her work and a clean, but empty apartment. She had no hobbies, few friends, no social life. She wasn’t the kind of woman men were attracted to. Some of it was her brain—she was usually smarter than the man in question and most were threatened by that. Then there was the matter of her plain face and her less-than-perfect body. And her natural reticence. She’d found herself turning thirty, living alone with no hope for a future beyond growing old by herself.
Then one night she and Gerald had been working late. She’d known he was between girlfriends. He generally dated a woman for a month or two, then dumped her for someone else. That evening she and Gerald had been together in the close confines of the copy machine room. They’d ordered in Chinese, and he’d dug up a bottle of wine somewhere. She’d been tipsy after just one glass, giggling and smiling and wishing it all could be real. Then suddenly it was—he was holding her and kissing her, and she found herself responding hungrily. All her fantasies had filled her mind until she’d convinced herself they were real. That she loved Gerald, and he’d finally recognized he cared about her, too.
Looking back she realized that a part of her had never believed, but she’d ignored the voice of reason because after thirty years of being innocent, she was finally in a man’s arms.
They’d been interrupted before they’d done much more than kiss. Mr. Greene, the company president, had come across them and had been horrified. Company policy forbade casual relationships between employees, and executives had been fired for dallying with their staff. Gerald had told the older man that he and Dora were engaged.
From that moment until the fight on the airplane less than two weeks ago, Dora had existed in a blurry dream-world. Gerald had attempted to convince her that his passion and his love were real, and she’d let him because she’d wanted it to be true. They’d pulled together a large wedding in less than two months. For the first time in her life she’d belonged to someone. But even then, she’d had her doubts. Gerald had never told her he loved her. And they’d never made love. In fact, he barely touched her.
So while she’d been devastated by what had happened on the plane, she hadn’t been surprised. In that moment, she’d seen the truth in all its ugly harshness. He’d used her vulnerability because he’d wanted to keep his job. He’d never cared about her—she wasn’t even sure he liked her. She was lucky to have escaped him. Except now she would always be alone.
Dora stretched out on the mattress and promised herself she wouldn’t cry. Many women were happy on their own. Perhaps she would never have a husband or children, but she could still be fulfilled. Her mistake had been to put her life on hold while waiting for a man. That’s what she had to change. She would learn to be happy on her own. She was smart, and she wasn’t afraid to work hard. This was the only life she had, and she’d better make the best of it.
That decided, she sat back up and reached for her note-pad. She began a list. As soon as she found a job, she would start taking classes. Cooking, decorating, Italian lessons, gardening, anything until she discovered a hobby about which she could be passionate. She would search out a travel agency that catered to single women. Not to help her find a man, but to give her the opportunity to make friends with other women. She started a list of places she would like to see, then wrote down all the books she’d been telling herself she would read. She closed her eyes for a moment and earnestly promised herself she would learn to be happy by herself. Yes, she’d just suffered through a humiliating experience, but she’d been given a second chance, and she was going to grab it with both hands. She was many things, but she wasn’t a quitter. If she gave up on herself, then Gerald won. She would do anything to make sure the final victory was hers.
Fifteen minutes after Dora had gone to bed, Khalil tried to concentrate on the report he held, but the technical explanation of road resurfacing could not keep his attention. Despite the late hour, the faint sound of traffic on the street below drifted into the room. It had been nearly three weeks, and he was ready to go home.
Khalil missed El Bahar. He missed the bustling city, his work at the palace, his family. While he enjoyed travel from time to time, when his trips were nearly over, he frequently found himself wishing to return home. He’d refocused his attention on the words in front of him when he heard a light tap on the door to the suite. He put down the report and frowned as he glanced at his watch. It was well after midnight, and he wasn’t expecting a visitor. Perhaps Dora had ordered something from room service.
But when he walked to the door and pulled it open, he didn’t see a uniform-clad waiter holding a tray. Instead a petite, dark-haired young woman with the face of an angel stared at him.
“Hello, Khalil.”
Her voice was little more than a low purr. She entered the room, moving with the grace of a cat. A deep blue sequined gown outlined every perfect curve of her siren’s body, makeup accentuated lovely features, especially her full, pouty mouth, and a cloud of sensual perfume settled around her. The light in the parlor flashed against the diamonds glittering at her ears, her neck, and her wrists. Her hands were small, her nails long. She was, on the outside at least, the most lovely female ever born.
She made his skin crawl.
Khalil took a step back to avoid her brushing against him. She caught the involuntary gesture and smiled at him. “Are we to play that game again?” she asked as she moved into the room and draped her fur wrap over one of the chairs. “Am I to be the hunter while you are the frightened prey?” She moved close, neatly trapping him against a pillar. “I like that game.”
Sexual desire glinted in her almond-shaped eyes. She pressed her hands to his chest. “Kiss me, Khalil. Kiss me, and make love with me.”
Swallowing his repugnance, he pushed her away, then stalked to the window. “Get out,” he said, his voice low and controlled only by a supreme act of will. What he wanted to do was toss her out the window, or perhaps find a less violent way to keep her out of his life.
She closed the front door of the suite, then gave a low laugh. “But, darling, I’m the one who’s angry with you. Not the other way around. You’ve been in the city for nearly two weeks, yet you’ve not once called me or asked me to visit. I’m quite put out.” She pouted. The sexy movement of her mouth did little to arouse him.
“We have nothing to say to each other, Amber. I didn’t call you because I had no
desire to spend time in your company.”
She waved her left hand at him. The large diamond there glittered like a dime-store bauble. But he knew the oversize solitaire was very real. He should know. He’d paid for it.
“You’re going to have to change your mind about me, my love,” she said. “After all, we are engaged.”
Khalil turned away from her and stared out the window. As much as he wanted to ignore her words, he could not. “I don’t want to marry you,” he growled. “I’ve never wanted you.”
“But you are a prince, and therefore marry for duty and country, rather than personal feelings. I’m your duty, Khalil. I’m your destiny.”
He spun back to face her. Rage boiled inside of him. Rage and anger and frustration because there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to fix the problem.
Amber leaned against the sofa and smiled at him, her lovely cat smile exposing small, white, straight teeth. Behind those perfect features and that incredible body lay the heart and soul of a snake.
He knew the truth about her—that when she was in El Bahar she played the dutiful daughter, but when she left her country and family behind, she transformed. Out in the world, Amber was a hedonist. She’d taken her first man when she was thirteen. Since then her conquests had grown in number. He’d heard her called a beautiful whore, and he wasn’t sure he could find it in himself to disagree with the assessment.
She pushed away from the sofa and walked toward him. “I will have you,” she whispered. “You will marry me, and then you will bed me. I will be your wife.”
“Never.”
She laughed. “Break the engagement? I think not. After all, you’d have to give a reason. What would you say?”
“The truth.”
She laughed again. “Ah, that. You would go to my father, the prime minister of El Bahar, and offer him proof of my wild ways. You would taunt him with the facts, telling him that his favorite daughter, the very jewel of his life, was a great seducer of men? I don’t think so.”
Her brown eyes twinkled at the thought. “How sad he would be. That great statesman, a true leader and advocate of the people brought down by a wayward child.”
Khalil ground his teeth together. He wanted to deny all that she said, but he could not. Amber was right—lif he, Khalil, told her father the truth about his daughter, the man would be destroyed. Ancient El Baharian custom demanded that the father take responsibility for the sins of his children. Aleser would resign as prime minister, and El Bahar would lose a great man. The choice was simple—his silence for his country’s future.
“I have money,” he said.
She dismissed him with a wave. “I have money, too, Khalil. What I don’t have is a title. I wish to be a princess.”
“What about queen?” he asked. “I would have thought that was more to your liking.”
She looked thoughtful. “It’s something I’ve considered, but I’m afraid that’s not an option. You see, I’ve already been with your brother.”
He froze. Not out of anger—at this point he didn’t give a damn about Amber’s bedmates—but in shock. Malik?
“It was after he lost his wife,” she said. She put her hands on her slender waist, then ran them down her hips. “He was so very sad, and he’d been drinking. I was alone, and one night I thought we could make each other feel better. He was very impressive.” Her gaze dropped to his crotch. “I’m hoping it’s a family attribute. Shall we see if we are as well-matched?”
Disgust with her curled in his stomach.
She moved closer. “Why wait? We will be married soon enough. In time I’ll have sons, Khalil. Your sons. And then you can deny me nothing.”
Coldness swept through him. It chilled him to his bones, then froze his soul. Resolve steeled his spine. He would not marry this woman. Somehow he would find a way to keep Aleser in office and avoid bedding this witch of a woman.
“Get out,” he told her. “I have no use for a whore this night.”
Her expression of good humor slipped a little. “Be careful,” she warned. “I’m a formidable enemy.”
“As am I, Amber. You believe you can say or do as you wish because I am trapped, but you are wrong. Know this.” He took a step toward her. “I will face down the devil himself before I marry you.”
“Yes, but will you destroy El Bahar?” she asked as she moved to the chair by the front door and retrieved her wrap. “You see, Khalil, the devil isn’t the problem. You are your own worst enemy in this. You’re a dutiful prince. You adore your people and your country. You would die for them.” She laughed. “You would even marry me for them. So you see, I have nothing to fear.”
She gave him a mocking bow, then left. Even as she closed the door, he could hear the light sound of her laughter.
He swore long and loud into the silence. Anger, no rage, raced through him, propelling him back to the window. He curled his hands into useless fists and wished to be anywhere but here.
He would not marry her. He swore by his honor as his father’s son he would find a way out of this dilemma. But how? Did Amber have him so neatly trapped that there was no escape?
He paced to the door, then returned to the window. Frustration built inside of him. Could he tell his father privately? Would the king believe him without proof? Khalil shook his head. If he had proof of Amber’s true nature, the king would feel obligated to go to his good friend, Aleser, and tell him about his daughter. As far as Khalil could see, all roads led to disaster.
He had paced for nearly an hour when the phone rang. The sharp sound startled him. He crossed to the instrument on the desk in the corner and picked up the receiver. As he did so, he heard Dora’s voice.
“Hello?”
Khalil was about to hang up when a man said, “Dora, it’s Gerald. Where the hell have you been?”
Chapter Four
Khalil heard Dora’s sharp gasp over the phone. He had the brief thought that he shouldn’t listen, then dismissed the idea of hanging up. He was curious about Gerald. The man had behaved inappropriately and was a fool. Dora wasn’t especially beautiful, but she was a good worker and he, Khalil, liked her.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“When you canceled the caterer, you left them a phone number. Now tell me what the hell you think you’re doing? You’ve completely canceled the wedding. How dare you do that without speaking with me first?”
“How dare I cancel the wedding? You’re the one who had his hand up a married woman’s skirt, and you want to know how I dare anything? You’re an insensitive cad, Gerald. Do you even know what time it is here?”
“It’s a little after ten. What of it?”
“It’s after one in the morning. I’m in New York. But as you never dial your own phone, you probably wouldn’t recognize the area code.” She sighed. “Not that any of this matters.”
“You’re damn right it doesn’t matter,” Gerald growled. “I don’t care if you’re in New York or Zimbabwe. You get your fat ass back here by the end of the week. Do you hear me?”
Khalil tightened his grip on the phone. Dora’s cry of pain was barely audible, but he heard it.
“No,” she managed, although her voice was a little shaky. “The engagement is over. I can’t believe I was so stupid about you. You’re nothing but a faithless jerk, and I was a moron to think you were more. I’m glad you’re out of my life.”
“You don’t know how I wish I could stay out of it, Dora, but I can’t. Mr. Greene wants to know where you are. However much either of us would like to end it right now, we can’t.”
She sniffed. “That’s where you’re wrong. I have ended it.”
“The hell you have. What am I supposed to tell Greene?”
“How about the truth? How about telling him the only reason you said we were getting married was that you’d gotten caught? Why don’t you tell him that in addition to trying to sleep with me, you’ve also been doing it with Glenda and Lord only knows who else?”
“I wi
ll not lose my job because some dried-up old virgin gets cold feet.”
Khalil found himself wondering how Gerald would look after several encounters with a horsewhip.
“You always were an expert at sweet talk,” she said sarcastically. “Go to hell, Gerald. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“I’ve been to hell,” he countered. “I went there every time I thought about having to make love with you. Did you ever wonder why I never tried? I was actually grateful old man Greene caught us that first night because there was no way I was going to do anything with you. You’re already an old woman, and you’re barely thirty. You were born a virgin, and you’re going to die one. No man in his right mind is ever going to want you. I’d like to—”
Khalil heard a click and knew that Dora had hung up the phone. He replaced his receiver as well, then stood in the silence of the living room. From there he could hear the faint sounds of Dora’s sobs. Her pain was as tangible as the furniture in the room.
He shifted uncomfortably. Until this moment, he’d not thought of his temporary assistant as a real person. She was efficient, intelligent and humorous. He’d enjoyed working with her. He’d known she was alive, but he’d not realized she was someone with hopes and dreams, someone with a spirit, someone now bleeding from the inside.
“We’ve both had a hell of an evening,” he muttered. He’d had to deal with Amber’s threats while she’d been tormented by Gerald. A grim smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Perhaps he would fix Gerald up with Amber—the two deserved each other.
He crossed to the bar at the far end of the room. He needed a drink. But instead of pouring cognac into the snifter, he paused. An idea formed. It was ridiculous and insane, as was he for even thinking it, but once the idea formed, it wouldn’t go away. He set the bottle back on the bar and moved toward the hallway.
There, the semidarkness swallowed him. As he walked, the sounds of Dora’s cries were more audible. Gerald hadn’t just rejected her, he’d stripped her of the last of her woman’s pride. Perhaps he’d tapped into some secret fear she had of not being pretty, or desirable, or whatever it was that worried thirty-year-old virgins.
The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 4
