Fury flashed in Rafiq’s gaze before it hardened. “Did anybody witness that assault? Did you report him?”
“No one saw since it happened so fast. He’d already been sitting beside me, pumping me up with compliments until I fell asleep.” She shook her head. “I tried to tell my manager, but she told me not to make waves, that I was brand new and couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity. She told me…I must have imagined it, if I caught her drift.”
The harsh words flowing from Rafiq’s lips were in Arabic, so Holly wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, but judging by his savage expression and tone, she guessed them to be curses.
Did it really upset him that much? The idea momentarily stunned her. Then again, it had upset her at the time until she’d realized it wasn’t all that uncommon in the industry. Many things that should’ve been appalling were actually quite commonplace.
“I’m sorry, Holly. That must have been terrifying for you.”
It had been, but even more so it was frustrating to realize her back was against the wall. Of course she could’ve reported it to the authorities, but it would have been her word against the designer, and her career would’ve been in the toilet. And she and Andrew had desperately needed the money.
Rafiq lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss against the inside of her palm. “How old were you, habiba? When you started your modeling career?” he asked quietly.
“I’d just turned eighteen.” She’d been so young. And so pitifully naïve. “I was discovered in a mall at seventeen and they wanted me to start then, but my brother insisted I wait until I was legally an adult.”
“At least he had enough sense to make that stipulation.”
Holly bit back a sigh. Why did he have to destroy such a nice, sweet moment with a jab at her brother? “I know you don’t agree, but Andrew has always kept my interests foremost in his mind. He’s actually quite protective of me.”
“Not nearly enough.” His gaze darkened and his hand tightened around hers. “But then, perhaps our idea of being protective is different. Had you been on my plane that day, you never would’ve found yourself in such a terrible situation.”
The image floating through her mind had a bit more of the tension easing from her muscles and a smile sliding across her face. “How chivalrous. Sheikh Rafiq Hakimi, air chauffeur to the modeling world.”
Her heart tripped at his soft husky laugh and the way his eyes crinkled around the edges. He really was striking, especially when he laughed and smiled, which seemed so rare. It erased the more sinister impression his scar could leave.
“Chauffer to the beautiful models of the world, hmm?” He grimaced and traced a finger over the lines in her palm. “I don’t think I would have had the patience to deal with such high-maintenance women, Holly.”
Why was he still holding her hand? More so, why was she letting him? But there was no desire to pull away, not with the way everything had gone all warm and soft inside her. The way she felt like an invisible bond linked them together for the moment. There was no anger or accusations. It felt…it felt exactly like it had the first time they’d met, when she’d been so utterly charmed by him.
He seemed to be waiting for her reply. Knowing she couldn’t let that remark about high-maintenance models slide entirely, she gave him a reproachful look. Then she ruined it by laughing.
“They’re not all high-maintenance, Rafiq. A few of the most down-to-earth women I know work in the fashion industry.”
Some of the lightness faded from his demeanor and his expression again turned grim. “And some of the most vile men, it would seem as well.”
Yes. She couldn’t deny it. Her gaze shifted to the flight attendant, who’d returned carrying a tray of food, which she set on the table in front of them. Holly noted the other woman didn’t look at Rafiq, and her hands seemed to tremble as she set down the cups of tea.
Interesting. Her brows drew together and she watched with mild curiosity as the woman disappeared again. “I’m surprised you would hire someone who fears you.”
Rafiq gave an indifferent shrug. “Many people fear me.”
“But once they get to know you, surely they change their mind?”
His gaze turned hooded and he released her hand to dish them each up a small plate of food. “Is that what you would prefer to think?”
“I…I just assumed,” she trailed off. “I don’t think you’re as mean and scary as you’d like people to believe, Rafiq.”
He didn’t look away, just held her gaze. “Never assume, Holly. And whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. I’m not, and never will be, a ‘nice guy.’”
No, he probably wasn’t. Her stomach sank as she accepted the small plate of food he’d handed her. The light mood that had momentarily settled had once again disappeared, leaving a heaviness in its place.
“Your fear of flying seems to have momentarily subsided.”
Rafiq’s calm observation made her blink in dismay. He was right. Usually she was tense and nauseated the entire duration of a flight, but somehow Rafiq had managed to distract her enough to not focus on it. And even now that he’d reminded her where she was, there was no debilitating fear. Just the slight heaviness in her stomach, but that had more to do with his warning he wasn’t a nice guy.
“Eat,” he murmured and met her gaze. “You’ll need your energy for later.”
Holly lifted her fork, not fearing the flight nearly as much as what would happen once they were in Monaco.
Chapter 7
As the limo slid smoothly through the light midday traffic toward Monaco, Rafiq knew he should be focusing on the files on his lap instead of the woman who sat across from him.
Despite her phobia of flying, Holly had done quite well the remainder of the flight until the plane landed. Perhaps the trip had exhausted her mentally, because she’d fallen asleep shortly after climbing into the limo. Now she lay half curled in her seat, her head against the leather and her eyes closed.
His reaction to Holly’s near incapacitating fear on the flight left him a bit uneasy. All animosity and ulterior motives had vanished, and he’d been assaulted with the need to ease her suffering, to calm her and comfort her. If she hadn’t been so deeply terrified, he might have tried to move her onto his lap and hold her in his arms. He’d been sorely tempted to but feared moving her at all would’ve only heightened her anxiety.
When she’d recounted her story, he’d been struck with a fury so potent he’d wanted to hit something. He wanted to seek out the bastard designer who’d tried to take advantage of her and act like the savage beast half the world thought him to be.
Her story had surprised him. Didn’t fit at all with the image he’d formed of her—a manipulative woman who knew exactly how to get what she wanted, even if it meant using her body to acquire it.
He hadn’t expected her to be so honest when he’d asked how often she’d traded her body for advancement in life. Whenever I needed to. He’d been prepared for another round of defensive lies.
And then her following offhand comment: So if you thought you were special… Of course he’d lied to her, because for that week he had let himself believe he was special and she’d seen beyond the scarred, bitter sheikh.
But no, that would have been a little too akin to a fairy tale. And he was not one to believe in them.
Holly stirred, making a soft noise of distress in her sleep. Her brows drew together in a frown before relaxing again a moment later.
Rafiq stared at her, unable to look away and hating himself for it. She’d been so young when she started modeling—was still young, and achingly beautiful. Her long lashes rested against creamy white cheeks. Lips that were so lush and full were parted slightly in sleep.
His attention slid lower to the lavender silk top clinging to the gentle swells of her breasts. He remembered those breasts and how they’d just barely filled his hand but were more than a mouthful. He remembered the way she’d cried out with pleasure when he’d teased the tips
with his teeth.
Rafiq slammed his eyes closed and drew in an unsteady breath. Already his body stirred with the need to possess her. He’d not had the pleasure of taking her that night two years ago as intended, but before they left Monaco he would know what it felt like to be inside her. To have Holly’s legs wrapped around his waist and her nails dragging up his back.
And he would know, without a doubt, that she was not acting this time around. He would take pleasure in her ultimate surrender, listen to her breathy pleas.
He opened his eyes again to watch her. As if she sensed his gaze, Holly’s lashes fluttered upward to show her blue eyes, drowsy and disorientated. They landed on him and a hint of agitation flickered and then it was gone.
“Did you think it was just a bad dream, habiba?” It pricked that her first reaction at seeing him would be anxiety. “That you would wake up in your own bed and not find yourself forced to be my mistress?”
She sat up straighter and ran a hand through tousled sable hair. “We both know I’m not your mistress. Not in the literal sense of the word anyway.”
He gave an unconcerned shrug. “A mere technicality.”
The rest of the sleepiness faded from her eyes, replaced with familiar fiery defiance as she looked away, crossing one leg over another. His gaze was immediately drawn to the expanse of flesh she’d revealed.
“How far are we from Monaco?”
“Ten minutes at the most.”
“And what exactly are we here for, anyway? Do you know how long we’ll be staying?”
“We’ll stay for as long as needed. I have meetings with an investor.” He offered a small shrug. “You simply need to be seen with me when the occasion calls for it and look stunning.”
She turned back to look at him. “You do realize I’m not actually a model now. I don’t have a wardrobe that will fall into the ‘stunning’ category, and my nails haven’t had a manicure in months—”
“You’re absolutely beautiful, Holly, and let’s not pretend otherwise.” He frowned. Why did she try to downplay her looks? Did she fish for compliments? “You’ll find a new wardrobe awaiting you in Monaco. Manicures, pedicures, whatever else you need can be arranged.”
Her mouth parted in dismay, her cheeks tingeing pink. “Rafiq, I can’t possibly afford any of this.”
“You have no need to. I will pay for them. It is all part of the mistress agreement, of course. And I am well aware of your financial situation. You would have been left penniless, had I accepted your money for your brother’s freedom.”
Her chin lifted. “It didn’t matter. I would have done it anyway.”
“I have little doubt otherwise. Even if it meant giving up your chance at attending college, no matter that you’d already enrolled. Your brother gave up his education for you, so why shouldn’t you do the same? Was that your reasoning?”
Anger flashed in her eyes and she stiffened. “Is there any part of my life you have not investigated?”
“I find it better to know my enemies, Holly.”
For a moment she was silent, and he must’ve imagined the hint of hurt in her expression as she once again looked out the window of the limo. “From enemy to mistress? So extreme, don’t you think?”
“You know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” He set the files down on the seat and moved to sit beside her on the other side of the limo. “How much closer can I get than having you in my bed, habiba?”
He noted the shiver that ran through her slender body, but she did not turn to face him. “Go to hell.”
“Undoubtedly I will, but for now I think I’ll enjoy all the sin that will take me there.”
“Not with me, you won’t.” She tried to scoot away, but she was already against the door.
He cupped her cheek and turned her head around to face him again, heard her breathing hitch and saw the mix of panic and awareness in her eyes. “Why do you fight what is between us?” he challenged softly, his mouth just above hers. “Why does your mind deny what your body clearly wants?”
Why indeed? Holly bit back a manic giggle as she struggled to control the runaway gallop of her pulse. How easy would it be to simply give in to Rafiq? To allow them to become lovers? But she struggled to reconcile the gentle person on the plane with the man in front of her now.
The plane ride, which should’ve been emotionally trying, had actually been one of the most enjoyable moments in the past few days. Rafiq had been charming, so completely sympathetic and gentle with her.
And then she’d woken up in the limo to find his heavy stare on her, had realized immediately the animosity was back. It seemed he enjoyed tormenting her as if she were an ant under a magnifying glass.
But with him so near, she couldn’t tear her gaze from the sensual curl of his lower lip, struggled with the temptation to lean forward and press her mouth against his. It was hard to remember why she hated him when he was so close she could smell the spiciness of his soap. See the flecks of stubble on his chin that she could just imagine on her heated skin as he kissed his way down her body.
“Please, Rafiq,” she begged huskily. “We aren’t in public right now. The window is up between the driver. There’s no need for this pretense.”
His gaze, already heated, darkened with an emotion that wasn’t quite violence. “It never has been, nor ever will be a pretense on my part. You are the lone skilled actor between us.”
She tried to look away, but his strong fingers that were curled around her chin held her immobile.
It was never an act. The words of protest died on her lips as his mouth covered hers, and then her only thoughts were of the intoxication of his kiss, the way her heart seemed ready to take flight, and how much she wanted more.
Rafiq’s tongue slid into her mouth to demand her response, teasing her and tormenting her into a need only he could bring forth. His hand curved around her hip, angling her back against the soft leather of the seat so that his body came to rest half on top of her.
Every nerve ending inside her sparked to life, tingling with the sensation of having his hard, muscled body pressed so intimately against hers. A moan fled past her lips as she buried her hands into the softness of his hair, holding him close. His hand on her hip skimmed upward, over her ribcage and toward the swell of her breast.
She should stop him, even if the driver couldn’t see through the tinted window and they were completely alone. She knew she should put an end to this.
But when Rafiq cupped her breast through the silk blouse she cried out, her hips arching off the seat to press against his. The movement brought her into sharp contact with the proof of his arousal. The realization of his size and the intimacy of their position set her body on fire and made the sensitive flesh between her legs ache.
Rafiq lifted his mouth from hers to look down at her, his eyes burning with desire and need. He eased up her silk top and she couldn’t have stopped him if she wanted to. First her stomach was exposed, and then the satin cups of her bra. “Holly,” he muttered thickly. “I must see you again. Taste you.”
He tugged first one cup and then another from her breasts, until they were bared for his observation and the air-conditioned limo.
Holly just barely stopped herself from lifting her hands to cover herself as her nipples tightened further under his hungry gaze.
Rafiq’s groan was low and guttural as he traced his fingers over the swells. “So beautiful. You are so very beautiful, habiba.” And then he lowered his head and gently took one tight peak into his mouth.
Oh God. Holly’s grip in his hair tightened as pleasure rocketed through her. She closed her eyes and whimpered as each pull from his lips sent a stab of pleasure straight between her legs. Her legs moved restlessly, seeking a release she knew she was still so far from.
Rafiq lifted his head momentarily to murmur soothing words in Arabic, his fingers tracing over her body before his mouth captured her nipple on the other breast. Heaven help her, but there was noth
ing on earth that felt as amazing. Blind with passion, with need, she dragged her fingers from his hair to the curves of his face. Feeling the ridges and the stubble—
Holly gasped as her wrist was ruthlessly manacled and pinned against the leather seat. Her gaze flew to Rafiq’s and shock swept through her at the savagery that had replaced the heated desire in his eyes.
“Rafiq?”
“Do not touch it,” he ground out.
Touch it? It took her a moment to realize what he meant. His scar. Holly hadn’t even realized where her fingertips had strayed; she’d simply been touching him. Discovering him.
Unable to breathe, she struggled for words. “I wasn’t. I just…”
The limo slowed and Rafiq released her. “We’ve arrived at the hotel.”
She fumbled to sit up, tugging at her bra with unsteady fingers. Rafiq brushed her hands aside and eased her back into her clothing before she could protest, as if she were helpless.
What had happened? He’d become like a wounded animal the moment her fingers nearly grazed his marred flesh. Snarling and defensive. And vulnerable.
A small ache of sympathy bloomed inside her and she swallowed hard, knowing he would resent her for it.
“There will no doubt be paparazzi when we arrive,” Rafiq said tonelessly, as if they hadn’t nearly just made love in the back of a limo.
“How do they even know of our arrival?”
“I had my assistant send a tip to the media outlets with the information.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave a slight smile. “And of course it was discreetly mentioned that you would be my companion.”
Of course. How ironic that the man who’d withdrawn from the public eye now sought it openly.
The limo came to a complete stop and Rafiq moved away once more.
“And here we go.”
Sunlight poured into the limo as the door was opened a moment later. Rafiq climbed out first and turned to offer his hand. Swiping her tongue across her mouth, Holly gave herself a quick mental pep talk before taking his hand and sliding out of the limo after him.
Beauty and the Sheikh Page 7
