Sabrina smiled triumphantly. They had liked her! She threw back her head, her flaming, waist-length mane a tousled glory, and her emerald eyes radiant. “Happy birthday, Alex Ben Raschid,” she said breathlessly. “Princess Rubinoff sends her regards and a message. She said to tell you that she’s kept her promise.” Then, as her eyes met his, she flinched involuntarily and lowered her eyes hastily.
Ben Raschid’s eyes were alive with barely controlled rage and something else that filled her with bewilderment and alarm. She leaped gracefully to her feet, and amidst the still applauding guests ran lightly to the door of the ballroom and into the hall.
She had reached the front door before she realized she had completely forgotten her cape and slippers. What on earth was wrong with her? she wondered crossly. Ben Raschid hadn’t spoken even one word to her and she was in a perfect panic over that stormy, yet enigmatic look. Perhaps the man had indigestion, for heaven’s sake!
“You were a complete triumph,” Donahue announced behind her. “You should have seen the expression on Alex’s face while he was watching you dance. I’ve never seen anything like it!”
Neither had she, she thought uneasily, as with a feeling of relief she turned around to face him. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Donahue,” she said quickly. “I really do have to leave now. I wonder if I could trouble you to get my cloak from the ballroom while I go to the library and get my slippers?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Alex Ben Raschid said as he entered the hall, her white velvet cloak draped over his arm. He put it over her shoulders, carefully lifting her hair so that it flowed down her back in fiery contrast to the snow white velvet. His action had an odd intimacy to it, and Sabrina felt a little tingle of shock that was out of all proportion to what should have been her reaction to a courteous gesture. “You go on back to the ballroom and enjoy yourself, Clancy. I’ll take care of Miss Courtney.”
“I’m sure you will,” Donahue said obliquely, as he turned back to the door of the ballroom.
“No, really, I don’t need any help,” Sabrina protested, feeling once more that tiny shudder of panic at the thought of being alone with Ben Raschid. “Please go back to your guests. I’ll just go to the library and phone for a taxi.”
“And get your shoes,” Ben Raschid added, his gaze lingering on her bare feet peeping from beneath the cloak. “It’s really a shame to cover them. I’ve always thought feet were the ugliest portion of the human anatomy, but yours are quite lovely.” He glanced up at Donahue, who’d paused at the door at Sabrina’s words. “I think I can be trusted to find Cinderella’s lost slippers, Clancy. But you might make yourself available in about forty-five minutes to drive her home.”
Donahue nodded with an expression of mild surprise on his face and disappeared into the ballroom.
Forty-five minutes? “No one needs to drive me home, Mr. Ben Raschid,” she said hurriedly. “I can take a taxi as I intended. I really think you should return to the party.”
The man was completely ignoring her, his hand beneath her elbow propelling her swiftly to the library. He shut the door behind them with a decisive click.
He leaned against it, his eyes on her face. “I assure you that the party will wait,” he said softly. “Though I’m not sure at the moment if I can.” His hand reached out and touched the curve of her cheek. “Your face is really exceptional, do you know that? Those slightly tilted green eyes, that delicate, fragile bone structure are fascinating as hell.”
She moved away from his hand, not wanting him to know how disturbing she found it, and laughed lightly to reinforce that effect. “So I’ve been told. My rather exotic look was one reason why Joel hired me.”
“Joel?” Ben Raschid asked, his dark eyes flickering. “Who the hell is Joel?”
“Joel Craigen, my boss,” Sabrina said. “He owns Noveltygrams Incorporated. Did you think this was a one-shot fling on my part? I do this all the time.”
“I don’t believe I was thinking at all,” he said slowly, his face darkening. “Not from the time I saw you standing in the doorway looking like a barefoot nun. Do you mean you dance for other men like that?”
Sabrina frowned in puzzlement. “Of course I do,” she answered. “The bellygrams are very popular. I have at least one assignment a day, sometimes two or three. It’s what I do for a living.”
He uttered a brief, obscene expletive that caused her eyes to widen with shock. “That will have to change,” he said grimly. “Why the hell don’t you go out and get a respectable job?”
“Respectable!” The word was a cry of indignation. “I don’t think any of your guests found anything objectionable about my performance.”
“None of the men at least,” he snapped. “They were eating you up with their eyes. That dance was supposed to arouse every man in the room to fever pitch. You can’t argue with that.”
“I don’t have to argue anything at all,” she said, fuming. “Not to you. I’m sorry you didn’t approve of Honey’s gift, Mr. Ben Raschid, I’m sure she’ll be very disappointed. But as for myself, I couldn’t care less what you think!” She turned and marched over to the leather armchair where she’d stepped out of her shoes. “I think I’ll say good night now. I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your more respectable guests.”
“Dammit, I didn’t say you weren’t respectable,” he said, following her across the room, his face stormy. “It’s your occupation we were talking about, and I have every intention of making sure you care what I think from now on. Why do redheads have to be so vol—” He broke off as his gaze fell to the portrait on the chair. “Where the hell did this come from?”
“I brought it with me,” Sabrina said tersely, thrusting her feet into her ballet slippers. “It’s your gift from Prince Rubinoff. I hope you like it better than you do his wife’s.”
“It’s quite good,” he said absently, as his gaze flicked back to Sabrina. “And Honey’s present is also an enormous success. I couldn’t be more pleased with her good taste. The wrapping is absolutely fantastic, and I can’t wait to discover what’s in the package.”
“You’ve already received your gift,” Sabrina snapped. “You seem to be under the misapprehension that the Princess contracted for more than just a dance for you.” She moved toward the executive phone on the massive mahogany desk. “She bought my artistic services, not my body, for your delectation.”
She reached out a hand to pick up the receiver but he stopped her by placing a swift hand over hers. “No,” he said softly, a glimmer of steel beneath the satin of his voice. “I said that Clancy will take you home. I won’t have you taking a taxi while you look like something out of an erotic dream. I’d take you myself if this party weren’t more business than pleasure.”
“You won’t let me?”
“I won’t let you,” he repeated calmly. “Now, why don’t you relax and humor me. It will save a good deal of wear and tear on your nerves. I’m not letting you out of here until I get you to answer a few questions. I’m curious why Honey sent you to me.”
“But you know why she sent me,” Sabrina answered, puzzled.
“Yes and no,” he said absently, his eyes intent on her face. “I wonder if she really succeeded in her quest after all this time.”
“Quest? I don’t understand any of this.”
“I know you don’t, Sabrina,” he said, smiling with a sudden warmth that was dazzling after the guarded somberness that had preceded it. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to make sure that everything will be quite clear to you very soon.” He removed his hand. “Are you going to indulge my whim, pretty houri?”
“Do I have any choice?” Sabrina asked tartly. Her hand felt oddly lonely without the warmth of his covering it. Why was that, when his touch had so disturbed her? “Are you always this autocratic, Alex Ben Raschid?”
“So they tell me,” he drawled, mockingly. He leaned easily against the edge of the desk. “It will be practically painless, I promise you. Just give me all the
details of your lurid past and I’ll be more than happy.”
“I doubt it,” Sabrina said shortly. “My background isn’t all that entertaining.” Then, as he continued to wait patiently with that same enigmatic smile, she said resignedly, “I’m twenty-three years old. I was born and raised on a small ranch in the Rio Grande Valley not far from Corpus Christi. I’m an only child and both my parents died in an auto accident when I was sixteen. I attended the University of Houston for two years as an art major before I was forced to drop out and go to work. I’m self-supporting, hard-working, and independent.” She cast him a glowering look. “And just as respectable as you, Mr. Ben Raschid.”
“Alex,” he prompted, with a grin. “And I’m sure you’re a great deal more respectable. I’ve had a hell of a lot more years and opportunities to arrive at my present state of dissipation. This is my thirty-fifth birthday, you know.”
She nodded impatiently. “Honey told me. Now that I’ve told you my entire life history, may I please leave?”
“I’m sure you’ve left out all the most interesting bits,” Ben Raschid said dryly. “But I’ve always liked to make a few discoveries on my own. It makes a relationship that much more exciting.”
“This is utterly absurd,” Sabrina said, shaking her head in wonder. “How can I make you understand that I don’t give a damn what you find exciting, or what you want?”
“I think that soon you’ll care very much what I want,” Ben Raschid said softly. “You see, I want you, Sabrina Courtney.”
“This is crazy,” she whispered, her green eyes widening with shock. “Thirty minutes ago you didn’t even know I existed, and now you’re propositioning me?”
“It’s a bit of a shock to me, too,” he said wryly. “I assure you my approach is generally a good deal more subtle.” There was a flicker of anger in the depths of the coal black eyes. “You have an exceedingly odd effect on me, Sabrina, and I’m not at all sure I like it. This is the first time I’ve ever been caught off guard by my response to a woman.”
“Should I apologize?” Sabrina asked caustically. Now that she’d recovered from her first shock at his words she was beginning to feel a rising anger at the sheer arrogance of the man.
Ben Raschid’s brow rose. “Perhaps you should apologize at that,” he drawled lazily. “I’m sure I’m not the first man your little performance has sent into a tailspin. You must be fully aware of your effect on the male libido.” Suddenly the annoyance was gone, replaced by a dark intensity. His fingers reached out to trace the outline of her lips while she stared up at him in shocked amazement. “You have the most provocative mouth I’ve ever seen,” he said huskily. “And your skin has the satin texture one sees only in very young children. I’ve never wanted to possess anything as much as I want you. You’re going to belong to me in every way a woman can belong to a man.”
Sabrina found it hard to breathe and she felt a tingling in the tips of her fingers. She shook her head to clear it of its strange lightness. “And what about what I want?” she asked, steadying her voice with an effort.
“I can make you want me,” he said arrogantly. “Stay with me tonight, Sabrina. You won’t regret it.”
“Yes, I would,” she said quietly. “I have no desire to be one of your conquests, Mr. Ben Raschid. I’m sure you can find someone else who will accommodate you. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“And I want everything to do with you,” he returned lightly. “But I can give you a little time.” His hand reached out to stroke her cheek, seeming to take a sensual pleasure in its satin smoothness. “I’m not going to be able to wait very long,” he whispered, his eyes flickering with that same hot intensity that had frightened her in the ballroom.
“You’ll have to wait forever,” she said tartly. “I don’t intend to be one of your women. There’s nothing about the position that appeals to me, even for the short time you usually keep your mistresses.”
He smiled in genuine amusement. “I don’t think you should count on anything but a very long-term lease. I don’t believe I’ll tire of you easily.” His hand moved to her throat, not caressing, just resting lightly on the pulse point as if to detect the tumult of emotions cascading through her. “A very exclusive contract,” he continued quietly. “No other men in your life or your bed while you belong to me.”
What kind of woman did he think she was, she wondered wildly, caught in a bewildering maze of emotions. He was calmly giving her ultimatums and conditions, and completely ignoring her protests as if it were a foregone conclusion that she would give in to his demands.
His confidence was so complete that she wondered for an instant if her defenses could hold against this man’s determined assault. But she knew they must. It would be like living in a silk cocoon whose strands would eventually strangle any independence or self-respect life might hold for her. She lifted her chin and looked up at him defiantly. “I’ll have as many men as I like, but you won’t be one of them, Alex Ben Raschid.”
His hand tightened on her throat until it was not a caress but a threat, and his dark eyes blazed with anger. Then he slowly released her and stepped back. “I’d better send you home before I decide to keep you here,” he said tightly. “I’d prefer to have you willing.”
“Do you usually go in for slavery?”
One corner of his lips lifted in a flash of humor. “I couldn’t have chosen anyone more suitably dressed for it,” he said dryly. “No, my dear houri, I promised you time to get used to the idea but I’m beginning to regret my forbearance already. I think we’d better get you out of here.” He opened the library door, and then, as she would have passed through it, he detained her momentarily by placing a hand on her arm. “It’s only a reprieve, you know, Sabrina,” he said softly.
She didn’t answer as she sailed past him into the hall.
Donahue was standing by the ballroom door as if in anticipation, and at Ben Raschid’s nod he smiled and came toward them, swallowing the last of his champagne and placing his glass on a passing waiter’s tray.
“Take the young lady home, Clancy.” Ben Raschid met his employee’s eyes meaningfully. “And take good care of her.”
Donahue nodded silently.
Ben Raschid turned to Sabrina. “I’ll be in touch,” he said softly, with an intimate smile.
Sabrina shrugged, feeling more courageous in the public atmosphere of the hallway. “Don’t bother,” she said coolly. “I plan to be very busy.”
There was a choked sound from Donahue that might have been a chuckle, and she could almost feel the anger that emanated from Ben Raschid. “I’ll be in touch,” he repeated, this time menacingly. He turned and stalked back into the ballroom.
“My lady,” Donahue said, with a mocking bow. “Your carriage awaits.”
TWO
NOW THAT THE evening was almost over, Sabrina felt numb with weariness. She leaned her head against the padded headrest of the luxurious Lincoln and closed her eyes. They had almost reached the apartment complex where she lived when Donahue spoke, as if unable to control his curiosity any longer. “Why did you try to make him angry?” he asked.
Sabrina’s eyes flew open, and she made a face. “I didn’t try,” she said dryly. “It seems to come naturally.”
Donahue shook his head. “People just don’t talk to Alex Ben Raschid like that.”
“Perhaps if they did, he wouldn’t be so arrogant. Are you afraid of him, Mr. Donahue?” she asked tartly.
“Hell, no,” he replied promptly. “We go back too far for that. I’ve known Alex since he was a teenager.” There was an element of warning in his sideways glance. “But I can see why it might be wise for a pretty little thing like you to be a bit more cautious. Growing up as heir apparent to one of the richest oil sheikdoms in the world isn’t likely to make any man shy and retiring. Even now he’s one of the most powerful economic figures in the world. When his grandfather dies, he’ll also be the absolute monarch of a country in his own right. It’s only fair t
o warn you that Alex isn’t hesitant about using that power.”
Sabrina sighed tiredly. “Mr. Ben Raschid will have no problem with me; I won’t get in his way. As a matter of fact, I’ll stay just as far away from him as the Houston city limits permit!”
“Or Alex will permit,” Donahue corrected wryly.
“In a day or two he’ll forget I ever existed,” Sabrina predicted confidently. “We don’t belong to the same world.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Donahue said. “I’ve never known him to be so protective of a woman before. Usually he couldn’t care less what his little playmates are up to as long as they’re available when he wants them.”
Donahue turned into the apartment complex and stopped in front of the building she indicated.
“Don’t bother to get out,” Sabrina said, with her hand on the door latch. “Thank you for bringing me home.”
“Sit still, Miss Courtney.” Donahue grinned. “I have my orders. Alex wants you delivered safely to your front door.” He was around the car, gallantly helping her out with mocking panache and following her to the apartment door. He took her key when she withdrew it from the pocket of her cloak and unlocked the door. He said quietly, handing the key back, “Lock the door behind you.”
“I will,” Sabrina promised. “Thanks again, Mr. Donahue. You’ve been very kind.”
“Sabrina, is that you?” Light suddenly flooded the apartment.
“Yes, David, I’ll be there in just a minute,” she called. Turning to Clancy Donahue she said hastily, “Good night.”
“David,” Donahue echoed thoughtfully, scanning the nameplate by the door. “David Bradford, Sabrina Courtney.” He gave a low whistle. “Alex may have more problems than he imagines.”
“Please go,” Sabrina whispered. David could be as curious as a chipmunk. He’d be out here any minute wanting to know who’d brought her home.
The Trustworthy Redhead Page 2
