Propositioned in Paradise

by Penny Jordan

  Was this it?

  ‘Where do you want to go?’ Malik asked. His voice was a low growl that reverberated right through her.

  ‘I don’t know. I only arrived in Rome yesterday. I’m as newbie as they get.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Do you recommend anywhere?’

  His faint smile felt like a promise. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know the city, either. I only arrived yesterday as well.’

  ‘We’re both of us newbies, then.’ Although newbie didn’t seem the right word to describe this man. Powerful, assured, experienced were more apt. He was miles above her in every regard.

  ‘How did you end up at that party?’ Malik asked.

  Gracie wrinkled her nose in a grimace. ‘I met that guy with the beers while I was sightseeing. He invited me along, and I thought I might as well go.’ She’d been both excited and nervous about diving into a strange and sudden social life, but this was better by far. ‘How about we go to a café?’ she suggested. ‘Get a proper drink?’

  His eyes glinted with humour. ‘I thought you weren’t thirsty.’

  ‘I’m not,’ she agreed blithely. ‘But we need to go somewhere, don’t we?’ His gaze held hers and she felt a new heat bloom in her belly at the undisguised desire she saw there. Suddenly she was imagining all sorts of places they could go. All sorts of things they could do…

  Which was ridiculous, considering the limits of her experience. And she barely knew this man. She wasn’t going to be that stupid, not on her first day in Europe. And yet Gracie couldn’t deny the attraction was there, amazingly on both sides, sparking between them. What would they do with it?

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ Malik murmured. His fingers tightened on hers and he drew her down the pavement, towards a café near the Trevi Fountain, the Palazzo Poli providing a magnificent backdrop.

  The pavement café was buzzing with people, but after Malik had a murmured word with the maître d’ they were led to a private table tucked in the back with an unobstructed view of the fountain.

  Gracie sat down, revelling in the moment, from the fountain lit up from underneath the water, its surface shimmering with lights, to the magnificent palazzo to the even more magnificent man sitting across from her, his silvery-grey gaze fastened on her. She felt as if she had champagne bubbling through her veins, as if every nerve ending was tingling with anticipation.

  What was it about this man that made her so excited, so eager? Admittedly he was far more handsome than anyone else she’d so much as said hello to, but it was more than that. She felt an understanding with him, an affinity that went beyond a basic attraction to a sexy and desirable man. Or was she simply caught up in the romance of it all? Two days ago she’d been picking at an overcooked hamburger at a family barbecue in dreary Addison Heights and now she was sitting in a café in Rome, swept away by a gorgeous stranger who had, if she’d heard correctly, just ordered a bottle of champagne.

  ‘I love champagne,’ she said impulsively. She’d only had it a couple of times but it had always felt like a decadent treat.

  ‘Good. It seemed appropriate to celebrate.’

  ‘What are we celebrating?’

  His gaze didn’t leave hers, the heat and intent in it undeniable. ‘Meeting.’

  ‘We’ve barely met,’ Gracie protested with a breathless laugh. Being the unswerving focus of his attention made her feel unsteady, overwhelmed, as if she could topple off the tightrope at any moment. She was nervous but she was so alive. ‘All I know is your name.’

  ‘And where I live.’ Malik spread his hands. ‘But ask me anything you wish.’

  ‘Anything?’

  His eyes blazed into hers. ‘Anything.’

  Of course she couldn’t think of anything then. Her mind was blank, spinning, her body responding to his, her insides coiled so tightly she felt as if she might snap or explode. She had no room to process anything else.

  ‘Umm…’ She let out a self-conscious laugh as a blush swept over her. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Twenty-two.’

  Twenty-two? He seemed so much older, much wiser and more sophisticated, than she was. He possessed an innate authority, almost an arrogance that both attracted and fascinated her. Had he been born with it, or had he cultivated it? And what on earth did he see in her?

  ‘How old are you?’ he asked, and she smiled in semi-apology.

  ‘Nineteen.’

  ‘And you said you are going to college?’

  ‘Yes, in September, to study special needs education.’ She’d be heading to Illinois State like everyone else she knew, but at least she was going to live a little first.

  Ink-black eyebrows snapped together as he frowned at her. ‘Special needs? I am not familiar with this term.’

  ‘Children with learning difficulties and disabilities,’ Gracie clarified. ‘My little brother Jonathan has Down’s syndrome and he benefitted so much from good teachers and support. I want to be able to provide the same for other children.’

  ‘That is admirable, to serve for your family’s sake,’ Malik said quietly. ‘I feel the same.’

  ‘Do you?’ A dart of pleasure, as well as something deeper, went through her. ‘What…what do you do?’ The question felt awkward; she knew basically nothing about him. She didn’t even know exactly where Alazar was. The Middle East, he’d said.

  ‘I assist my grandfather,’ Malik answered. He sounded as if he was choosing his words with care. ‘With his various duties and responsibilities. He is…a man of some significance in Alazar.’

  ‘Oh.’ Perhaps that explained Malik’s dignified bearing. What was his grandfather? Gracie wondered. A diplomat? A businessman? A sheikh?

  A giggle nearly slipped out at that thought; she felt as if she’d fallen down a rabbit hole into an alternative universe of romance and adventure.

  And champagne, for the waiter was bearing down on them with a dusty, expensive-looking bottle and there was no opportunity to ask questions as he popped the cork with a flourish and then poured them two frothing glasses.

  ‘What shall we toast to?’ Malik asked as he handed Gracie her glass.

  Her mind emptied yet again. ‘To the future,’ she finally suggested, and then added recklessly, ‘to our future.’

  Malik’s mouth curved and with his gaze not leaving hers he raised the glass to his lips. ‘To our future,’ he repeated softly, and drank.

  Gracie followed suit, the bubbles zinging through her, tickling her nose and throat and making her want to laugh. The whole situation made her want to laugh—it was so incredible, so unbelievable. Then all laughter died as Malik lowered his glass and said in a low growl of a voice that pulsed with intent, ‘Do you feel what I do?’

  Gracie’s heart bumped in her chest like a suitcase down a flight of stairs and her hand was unsteady as she returned her glass to the table, barely touched. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I think I do.’ Even if it was crazy.

  Malik laughed softly. ‘I wonder if I am being fanciful. I do not even know you.’

  ‘No…’

  ‘And yet we have this chemistry.’

  ‘A connection.’

  Malik stared at her for a moment and Gracie tensed. Had she presumed…? ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘A connection.’

  * * *

  Malik had barely touched the champagne but he felt awash in it, every sense awakened and buzzing with life. When had he last felt this excited, this energised, this hopeful?

  The answer, Malik knew, was never. And yet…

  His gut tightened with apprehension. He knew that what he was experiencing with Gracie was temporary, only for a night, if that. His life was not his own to control or decide; it hadn’t been since he was twelve, taken from the school room, from his books and model airplanes and the simple life as the second, the spare, thought to be unnecessary. His grandfather’s face had been hard, his voice harsh, as he’d explained. Azim is gone. You are heir now. Malik had barely been able to grasp his grandfather’s meaning, and yet in that one momen
t his life had completely changed. He’d gone from being a shy, bookish boy who had been left to his own devices to becoming the future Sultan, in the limelight, under the lash, closed off from all the things he’d enjoyed, deprived of the people he’d loved.

  But after ten years of resolute duty, surely he could have one evening. One woman.

  He leaned forward, needing to touch her, to feel her. Her skin was soft under his hand. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  Heat flared in her eyes. ‘And go where?’

  ‘Anywhere.’ He didn’t care; he just wanted to be with her.

  ‘We could throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain.’ She shrugged, her hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes alight as her generous mouth curved in a smile that invited him to share in her joy and exuberance. ‘Let’s live a little.’

  Which was exactly what Malik wanted to do—all he could do. Live—a little.

  ‘All right,’ he said, and rose from the table. He paid for their champagne before heading out into the night, Gracie’s hand encased in his. He didn’t want to let her go until he had to.

  The plaza was full of people and music, and yet it felt as if they were in their own world as they walked by the fountain shimmering with lights.

  ‘Do you know the tradition?’ Gracie asked, her eyes full of mischief, and Malik shook his head.

  ‘You’re meant to stand with your back to the fountain and throw a coin from your right hand over your left shoulder.’ She mimed doing so, her arm reaching over her head in a graceful arc, and Malik enjoyed watching her.

  ‘And then what happens?’

  She turned around, smiling at him impishly. ‘Then you’re meant to return to Rome. But there’s another tradition…’ She stopped, biting her lip.

  Intrigued, Malik arched an eyebrow. ‘Another?’

  ‘That you throw three coins in the fountain,’ she explained, her voice low. Her face had turned fiery and she couldn’t meet his eye.

  ‘Three? What for?’

  ‘One to return to Rome, two for a new romance, and three for marriage.’ She laughed, the sound a little forced. ‘Silly, isn’t it?’

  Deliberately Malik reached into his pocket. Gracie watched him with wide eyes as he turned so his back was to the fountain, and then threw a coin over his head. It landed with a distant splash. Malik threw in another coin. Gracie sucked in a breath.

  His heart began to thud as he turned back to face her; she was staring at him, waiting. And so Malik did what he’d been wanting to do all evening. What he’d been needing to do.

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her.

  Copyright © 2017 by Kate Hewitt

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  ISBN-13: 978-1-488-03078-9

  PROPOSITIONED IN PARADISE

  Originally published as EXORCISM by Harlequin Mills & Boon in 1985

  This edition published 2017

  Copyright © 1985 by Penny Jordan

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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