Rose swallowed, the champagne tasting suddenly bitter in her throat. And then swallowed again as those onyx eyes were levelled in her direction and then narrowed, so that only a night-dark gleam could be seen through the thick, black lashes.
And with a slow and predatory smile, he began to move.
Hes coming over, Rose thought, her hands beginning to shake with unfamiliar nerves. Hes coming over here!
The gloriously dressed women and the morning-suited men parted like waves before him as he made an unhurried approach across the ballroom of the Granchester Hotel, his regal bearing evident with every fluid step that he took. There was a dangerous imperiousness about him which made him the focal point of every eye in the ballroom.
Rose felt her throat constrict with a sudden sense of fear coupled with an even more debilitating desire, and for one mad moment she was tempted to turn around and run from the room. An escape to the powder room! But her legs didnt feel strong enough to carry her, and what would she be running from? she wondered ruefully. Or whom?
And then there was time to think of nothing more, because he had come to a halt in front of her and stood looking down at her, his proud, dark face concealing every emotion other than the one he made no attempt whatsoever to conceal.
Attraction.
Sexual attraction, Rose reminded herself, with a fast-beating heart.
It seemed to emanate from him in almost tangible waves of dark, erotic heat. He wanted to take her to his bed, she recognised faintly, the cruel curve of his mouth and the glint in his black eyes telling her so in no uncertain terms.
So, he said softly, in a rich, deep voice. Are you aware that you are quite the most beautiful woman at the wedding?
He sounded so English and it made such an unexpected contrast to those dark, exotic looks, thought Rose. She forced herself to remain steady beneath the dark fire of his stare and shook her head. I disagree, she answered coollyunbelievably coolly, considering that her heart was racing like a speed-train. Dont you know that the bride is always the most beautiful woman at any wedding?
He turned his head slightly to look at Sabrina in all her wedding finery, so that Rose was given an unrestricted view of the magnificent jut of his jaw and the aquiline curve of his nose.
The voice softened unexpectedly. Sabrina? he murmured. Yes, she is very beautiful.
And Rose was unprepared for the sudden vicious wave of jealousy which washed over her. Jealous of Sabrina? One of her very best friends? She sucked in a shocked breath.
He turned his head again and once again Rose was caught full-on in the ebony blaze from his eyes. But then so are youvery, very beautiful. The mouth quirked very slightly as he registered her unsmiling reaction. What is the matter? Do you not like compliments?
Not from people I barely know! Rose heard herself saying, with uncharacteristic abruptness.
Only the merest elevation of a jet eyebrow which matched the thick abundance of his black hair gave any indication that he considered her reply offhand. It was clear that people did not speak to him in this way, as a rule.
He gave an almost regretful smile. Then you should not dress so fetchingly, should you? You should have covered yourself in something which concealed you from head to foot, he told her softly, jet eyes moving slowly from the top of her head to the tip of her pink-painted toenails. It is all your own fault.
Even more uncharacteristically, Rose felt colour begin to seep heatedly into her cheeks. She rarely blushed! In her job she dealt with high-powered strangers every single day of her working life, and none of them had had the power to have her standing like this. Like some starstruck adolescent.
Isnt it? he prompted, on a sultry murmur.
Rose blinked. She had dressed up, yesbut it was a wedding, wasnt it? And every single other woman in the room had gone to town today, just as she had.
A floaty little slip-dress made of sapphire silk-chiffon. The same colour as her eyes, or so the cooing sales assistant had told her. And flirty little sandals with tiny kitten heels. Shed bought those in a stinging pink colour, deliberately not matching her dress. But then matching accessories were so passéeven the saleswoman had agreed with that. No hat. She hated confining her thick blonde hair beneath a hatparticularly on a day as hot as this one. Instead, she had ordered a dewy and flamboyant orchid from the nearby florists, in a paler-colour version of the shoes she wore. Shed pinned it into her hair, but she suspected that very soon it would start wilting.
Just as she would, if this exotic man continued to subject her to such a calculating, yet lazy look of appraisal.
She decided to put a stop to it right then and there, extending her hand and giving him a friendly-but-slightly-distant smile. Rose Thomas, she said.
He took the hand in his and then looked down at it, and Rose found her eyes hypnotically drawn in the same direction, shocked by her reaction to what she saw. Her skin looked so very white against the dark olive of his and there seemed to be something compellingly erotic about such a distinctive contrast of flesh.
She tried to pull her hand away, but he held tight onto it, and as she drew her indignant gaze upwards it was to find the black eyes fixed on her mockingly.
And do you know who I am, Rose Thomas? he questioned silkily.
It was a moment of truth. She could feign ignorance, it was true. But wouldnt a man like this have been up against pretence and insincerity for most of his life?
Of course I know who you are! she told him crisply. This is the only wedding Ive ever been to where a real-life prince has been acting as best manand I imagine its the same for most of the other people here, too!
He smiled, and as she saw the slight relaxation of his body Rose took the opportunity to remove her hand from his.
Khalim felt the stealthy beat of desire as she resisted him. Whats the matter? He gave her an expression of mock-reproach. Dont you like me touching you, Rose Thomas?
Do you normally go around touching women youve only just met? she demanded incredulously. Is that a favour which your title confers on you?
The beat increased as he acknowledged her fire. Resistance was so rarely put in the way of his wishes that it had the effect of increasing them tenfold. He saw the clear blue brilliance of her eyes. No, a hundredfold, he thought and felt his throat thicken.
He gave a shrug. A little-boy lookthe black eyes briefly appealing. It was a look that had always worked very well at his English boarding-school, especially with women. You took my hand, he protested. You know you did!
Rose forced a laugh. This was ridiculous! They were sparring over nothing more than a handshake! And Khalim was Guys friend. Sabrinas friend. She owed it to them to show him a little more courtesy than this. Sorry. She smiled. Im a little overwrought.
Is it a man? he shot out, and before she had time to think about the implications she shook her head.
What an extraordinary conclusion to jump to! she protested, but the admonishment made no difference.
What, then? he persisted.
Work, actually, she said.
Work? he demanded, as though she had just said a foreign word.
But then maybe to him it was a foreign word. A man like Prince Khalim had probably never had to lift his hand in work. Just a busy week. She shrugged. A busy montha busy year! She sipped the last of her champagne and gave him a look of question. Im getting myself another one of thesehow about you?