by Olivia Gates
But contrary to looking offended and alienated, he seemed elated. “How can you even think that a name that means one’s very heart and mind and soul is stupid? And beyond its evocative meaning, its very sound is exquisite—refined, flowing, feminine. Surely you know you more than live up to it, in every way?”
Did this guy have an advanced degree in flirtation? If there were some championship in it, he must hold the title. But was he flirting? It felt as if he meant every word.
Of course you’d like to think that, idiot.
And then what would she do with his sincere admiration? He was so out of her league and this was so transient that even letting herself feel good about it—if she could feel anything in her agitation, that was—was pointless.
Then he added to her agitation. “So, Janaan Latimer, now our appointment has become irrelevant, I can think of nothing better than to escort you to an early lunch.”
Jay gaped. This—this god was asking her out to lunch?
OK, so he was telling her he was taking her to lunch, but it amounted to the same thing. And she was certain he hadn’t intended to take the man he’d thought he’d meet out to lunch.
So was it because the unusual circumstances had broken the formality with which he would have received her had things gone to plan? Or was it that he wanted to prolong their time together as his eyes were telling her, as his words corroborated?
And just what was it with her today?
He was just being courteous, and she was constructing intricate delusions on what she thought she saw in his eyes, heard in his words. She’d been having what she could only call a breakdown of sanity since she’d laid eyes on him!
She shook her head to dispel the feeling of sinking deeper under a spell, his spell. “Thanks for the generous offer, but I have to decline. And I don’t see why our appointment has become irrelevant. We can still have the interview. We can even have it here. If you’ll just ask me what you intended to, then let me take a taxi back to my hotel, I’d be most grateful.”
Malek stared at Janaan as if she’d started talking in a language he’d never heard before.
She’d just refused him.
He’d invited her to lunch and she’d refused him.
So he hadn’t exactly invited her, he amended inwardly. He’d stated his desire to have her company, his intention to have it, not for a second thinking there was any possibility of her turning him down.
But she had. Not only that, but she’d done it with such an adorable mixture of resoluteness, hauteur and shyness that it was all he could do to stop himself from reaching out and hauling her into his arms. Which would be crazy.
But with every passing second it seemed less crazy, was becoming all he could think of doing … Ehda ya rejjal.
His self-rebuke to calm down wasn’t all that brought the overpowering urge under precarious control. Just the thought that he might distress her in any way—though he was certain she hadn’t feared him for a second—was enough to leash him in.
He still couldn’t stop himself from leaning closer into her aura, watching her, greedy for her every nuance as he murmured, “We’ve already discussed the impossibility of me leaving you here, or anywhere else. And we can conduct our interview all that much better over a meal cooked with passion and to perfection and served with all the charm and cordiality of my kingdom. As you’ve already pointed out, you’re a guest in my land. Let me show you how valued you are, let me give you a welcome worthy of you.”
He marveled at her reaction, at its explicitness. He could feel his every word’s impact on her, could sense her reeling, struggling to right herself. He was certain she was fighting the urge to blurt out an acceptance, was convinced she’d delivered her first refusal as an involuntary conditioning not to accept a man’s overtures at once. Yet from her reaction it was clear she hadn’t thought he’d press her, was flailing now that he had.
He was incapable of doing anything else. He had to have more of her. She had to accept. And any moment now, she would.
She inhaled a deep breath. He did, too, held it, waiting for the words that would assure him of more time with her.
“That’s very generous of you,” she started, a delightful wobble making a heart-tingling tremolo of every second syllable. Yes. Her next words would be the craved acceptance. “But I again insist on concluding this now.” What? “I am a guest in Damhoor only in terms of being new here, but I’m not here as a tourist. I’m here to work. So if we can just get down to business, this would be the only welcome I’d appreciate.”
Anticipation whooshed out of him, frustration rushing in to fill its void, shooting to unknown levels.
No one had ever refused him before. Not once, let alone twice. Certainly never a woman. It was he who refused women’s offers, had never been interested enough to make any himself.
Now he was, and he’d offered, twice, and twice she’d turned him down.
It had to be his offering skills. They were non-existent. He’d better develop some. Fast.
But until he got his bearings, found out how she could be approached, her reticence overcome, he needed time and. Wait!
She had just given him the key to securing that time, far longer than what the most leisurely lunch could have afforded him.
He smiled down on her. “So you’re interested in getting down to business, eh? How about we bypass the interview and head directly to where business is conducted? Surely you wouldn’t refuse me escorting you to your new base on Damhoorian soil.”
She blinked. “What …? Where do you mean?”
“GAO’s newly opened base of operations in the kingdom. As I understand it, you signed up in the old office. I think you’ll be very interested to see the new facilities and go over the specifics of GAO’s expanded mission in the region.”
She stared at him, a dozen emotions struggling for dominance over her expressive features. Chagrin, interest, frustration, curiosity, agitation, bashfulness. He was interested in one in particular right now. Capitulation.
When he judged it had overridden all other reactions, he whispered his challenge, “So what will it be, Janaan?”
She gulped, another rush of peach staining her velvet cheeks. Then she finally sighed. “Oh, all right.”
Her muttered concession was the most welcome thing he’d ever heard in his life. It was also the last thing she said. At least the longest. He only managed to get monosyllables out of her from then on. He was certain it was her way of showing him how angry she was that he’d cornered her, that she’d succumbed to his maneuvers. He was also certain anger was a mere impurity tainting her real emotions, all hot and eager and overriding.
He got to her as badly as she got to him. And the best and unprecedented thing was that it was him who got to her, not who he was.
He knew she had no idea who he was as she was treating him with no deference at all. Even after she’d found out he was someone important, at least to her, she’d remained as painfully, delightfully forthright as she’d been from moment one. He doubted she’d change her tune even when she found out exactly who he was. This was another unprecedented occurrence that he.
“Is this it?”
Her subdued yet awed question brought him out of his elated musings.
And, indeed, their destination was in sight. The sprawling establishment erected to serve the joint efforts of GAO and his kingdom’s Ministry of Health.
Its sight somehow brought reality and full wakefulness descending on him with a flat-fisted thump.
What in Ullah’s name had he been thinking, feeling—doing?
What did he think he was about to do?
He should drop her off, give orders for her to be given every courtesy and service as long as she stayed in Damhoor and make sure he never saw her again.
CHAPTER THREE
“IS SOMETHING WRONG?”
Malek saw Janaan’s clear blue eyes clouding with confusion, and wondered how to answer her.
“Everything is wrong
” didn’t appeal as a reply. Even though it was the only answer. The truth.
If he’d succumbed to this lightning-bolt attraction within minutes of meeting her, and now had to exert all his will to keep his hands off her, who knew what he’d be tempted to do if he had her in close proximity for much longer?
The answer to that was certain. And if he’d thought he had enough upheavals to deal with, those certainly paled in comparison with what any level of involvement with her—a foreign woman and a doctor coming to his region in a worthy relief effort—would be. It was out of the question that he.
“OK, I don’t feel the extra head I’ve grown.” Janaan ran both her hands over her head. “But the look in your eyes is making me certain it’s there.”
And he laughed. Ya Ullah, that was all he needed. To find out she had a sense of humor. One that tickled him so readily.
“It would be more of a good thing in your case.” He barely caught back the hand that longed to mimic her actions and shook his head, attempting to clear it, to shake off the urge. “I apologize for blanking out on you. It seems I’m not fully awake.”
And what he wouldn’t give to blame exhaustion for it all. But he couldn’t. He’d been exposed to many kinds of danger in his life, but nothing compared to the potential hazard of prolonging his exposure to her. Sanity was crying out for him to end this. And he would. He had to.
He dropped her gaze, stepped out of the car the moment it came to a halt, came around to her.
He thought it a terrible idea to touch her again but out of bounds of his will, his hand asked for hers. “Shall we?”
She gave it to him, her own inability to resist surging with her color, her lips trembling as she sprang out of the car at the same moment he gave her a supporting tug. Both actions brought her full against him.
It was only a second before Janaan staggered back, severing the contact. And that second had been enough to tell him that his worst projections were nothing. His body had never roared with arousal like that.
“S-so … w-when did all this get built?”
He looked down at her and his chest tightened with regret. She glowed under his kingdom’s sun, from the inside out. He narrowed his eyes against her radiance more than against the sun, read her attempt to jog him back to reality.
She succeeded in making him aware of their audience. His men, hovering around, waiting for his orders. He turned to them and delivered them. Arranging the end of this magical interlude.
With his plan in motion he felt less guilty, even felt entitled to let his hand run up her exposed arm, wrap around its satin resilience as he steered her inside the building, telling himself that the shudder that engulfed his body was due to the transition from the blistering heat to the interior’s coolness.
He would take this with her, say and do what felt natural. It would be over soon. Too soon. He wouldn’t let the upcoming separation pollute the time he’d allowed himself with her.
He relaxed his knotted brow, smiled down at her. “In delayed answer to your question, the construction was finished four months ago, the rest two weeks or so ago. We’re staffing now.”
Jay was barely conscious of the people in the background or those who were lining up like a welcoming committee ahead. She only had eyes for Malek as she hurried to keep up with his far longer strides. What she couldn’t keep up with was the dizzying succession of expressions on his face. One second he’d looked elated, the next pensive, then harsh, then upset and now, though he was back to being plain overwhelming, she could feel his … conflict. There was no other way to describe what was coming off him in waves. What was going on inside that mind of his?
As if she’d ever find out. Or should want to. He was probably only regretting his behavior, which he’d explained the reason for. Lack of sleep made people do and say things they didn’t mean. Now he’d rush her on a tour because he’d committed himself to it then he’d drop her in GAO’s lap and head to his bed at last.
This explanation somehow put her at ease. Confusion agitated her. But knowing the whys and wherefores of all this, that it would be over soon, made her equilibrium, and another form of spontaneity, resurface. She felt she could allow herself the luxury of basking in his presence for as long as it lasted.
She looked up at him, fighting the urge to reach up and brush back the lock of hair that had slipped down his forehead, to run her palm over the darkness roughening the satin of his chiseled cheeks and jaw, and smiled her pleasure at just being near him. “And how are the staffing efforts going?”
Tension and weariness drained from his eyes as his smile widened to match hers. “With you here? Spectacularly.”
She giggled. Why not let herself feel good about the incredible things that kept spilling from his spectacular lips?
He chuckled, too, gave her a conspiratorial glance. “Don’t look now, but it seems all existing staff have come out in force to welcome you.”
Her lips twisted. “Yeah, right. They’re standing on attention for their commander-in-chief’s surprise inspection. Quaking in their shoes, no doubt.”
His mock-hurt look was simply delicious. “You don’t think it possible they’re just thrilled to see me?”
“You know what? From their smiles, I bet they are.” And who wouldn’t be? she added inwardly.
“Tell you what …” A gentle tug turned her to face their reception party. “Let’s get the introductions out of the way so they get back to their work and we get on with our tour.”
For the next fifteen minutes they did just that. Jay counted fourteen different nationalities among the GAO volunteers, in addition to the Damhoorians, in every medical and administrative position, about a hundred in all. But a place that size would need thirty times more personnel to run it. Not that she was sure just what this place was supposed to be.
After a gracious command from Malek made everybody rush to leave them alone, Jay fell into step with him as he took her on a thorough tour of the premises and facilities.
And if she’d been impressed by its sheer size from the outside, she was flabbergasted now. She’dnever seen anything this comprehensive. It was far more than a medical complex. The diagnostic and treatment sectors, once staffed, could easily deal with mass casualty situations. Supplies, warehousing, food services andhouse-keeping could keep up with an army’s logistics and supply chain in a year-long war. The teaching and training facilities in all fields could spawn legions of highest caliber medical and administrative professionals. The research sector had all the promise of being at the cutting edge in science and healthcare. The administrative and managerial sectors could probably run a country, and so could the seamless mechanical, electronic and telecommunications systems. This place was a mind-boggling triumph of ambition and efficiency.
It was only confusing that GAO had built it in Damhoor, where the average citizen had an income to rival that of the richest countries in the world and a comprehensive medical insurance.
They were now in the last section, diagnostics, and he gave her another comprehensive summation of its capabilities. Then he spread his formidable arms, stretching his black shirt across his expansive chest, like a magician inviting applause.
Stunned hunger at his power-laden grace was probably what stopped her from clapping. She couldn’t believe how entertaining he’d made the technical data he’d inundated her with.
His grin, this amalgam of teasing and enjoyment wrapped up around a core of unadulterated maleness, flashed at her. “I hope I haven’t overloaded and crashed your system.”
“So this was your plan, huh? To make me sorry for insisting on getting down to business by immersing me in a vat of it.”
He pouted. “I’d never want to make you sorry. But you’re such an informed listener that I got carried away. The desire to brag was also something I couldn’t apply brakes to.” He stopped before they reached the exit doors. “But seriously, have I bored you?”
Jay didn’t think it wise to inform him he was probably
genetically incapable of being boring. That she’d be an avid listener to him reciting the Yellow Pages.
Instead she smirked. “As if I’d tell you if you had.”
“Oh, you would. I believe that you of all people would whack me over the head with your candid opinion, no matter what.”
“Gee—I was that rude earlier, huh?”
“You only said what you thought. And then you were rattled from the accident, you were fighting for your driver’s life, and you were maybe a little frightened you’d fallen into some depraved man’s clutches.”
“Two out of three there, pal.” One of his eyebrows went up and her heat shot in the same direction. She was really forgetting who he was. Who she was. Somebody gag and sedate her.
“Care to elaborate?” he prompted.
“Uh—just that I wasn’t scared of you for a second.” His eyes flared at that, with something akin to—pride? Satisfaction? Giving up on trying to interpret his expression, she went on, “Maybe stupid, but there you go. And listen—about that last crack. I have this social deficiency syndrome and it’s complicated by a severe case of verbal communication atrophy.”
“Don’t apologize,” he admonished. “I loved it. Even if I didn’t, you still shouldn’t apologize. Never apologize, Janaan.”
Oh, God—the way he said her name!
“Uh, I’m not apologizing, actually,” she mumbled, feeling a strange elasticity in her knees. “Just confessing my condition.”
His eyes crinkled. “I hope it’s incurable.”
“You don’t need to hope too hard. It probably is.”
His look as he led her out of the building was mystery itself. But it was the lines of tiredness that stamped his heart-stopping beauty that made her heart, and hands, itch, wanting to soothe them away.
She barely noticed they were approaching his convoy. She only felt his gentleness as he once again seated her in his car, in the blessed welcome of cool darkness and his proximity.