Mills & Boon Modern Romance Collection: February 2015. Кэрол Мортимер
she hissed between clenched teeth as the photographers turned their lenses towards them. ‘Surely it’s not a good idea to—’
‘Don’t presume to give me advice on appropriate behaviour.’ His whisper cut like a blade. His grip tightened almost to the point of pain and Jacqui sucked in a shocked gasp.
Instantly Asim’s hold relaxed but the angle of his jaw spoke of trouble, of fury barely contained.
‘I need to see Samira.’ Jacqui turned her head. ‘She did so well but she needs—’
If his voice had been dangerous before, it was lethal now. ‘Never presume to tell me what my sister needs.’
A glacial chill crackled down Jacqui’s backbone.
He paused and drew in a mighty breath that lifted his impressive chest, reminding Jacqui of the latent power in his big form. A power he carefully leashed when they were together. She sensed he was on a knife-edge of control and anxiety feathered through her.
Asim wasn’t a violent man. But she’d never seen him like this. Even his controlled pace spoke of barely contained ire.
They left the royal enclosure, passed the guards and entered the passageway that led into the palace then wound confusingly. Still he didn’t speak and with each tap of her heels Jacqui’s tension screwed to breaking point. She should say something, explain, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
They emerged in a garden surrounded by a pillared arcade. No lights shone but the moonlight revealed the old harem courtyard. A breeze whispered through the leaves of a climbing vine, making a desolate sound.
There to the left was the chamber where she’d woken from her nightmare to discover Asim standing over her.
It seemed a lifetime ago.
Asim swung her to face him. In the silvery light he looked as grim and forbidding as an ancient idol awaiting a blood sacrifice.
Jacqui swallowed and met his eyes. She’d known this would be tough. Keeping tonight’s plan a secret had weighed on her conscience, but Samira had been insistent she needed to do this her way, not Asim’s. In the end Jacqui had banked on the fact Asim would be so happy seeing his sister emerge from seclusion that his anger would be short-lived.
How wrong she’d been.
‘I was warned against you, you know.’ The words were a sliver of sound on the night air, slashing through her neat justifications.
‘Warned?’ Jacqui frowned, thrown by the change of subject. Wasn’t this all about Samira?
He didn’t let her go, just stood toe-to-toe, staring down at her as if he wished he’d never laid eyes on her.
She felt bruised by that look, her heart thundering in distress.
‘You don’t think your presence in the palace or my bed is a complete secret, do you? From the first I’ve had advisors warning me against you. Not least my press secretary. He said you’d cause trouble.’
‘Now hang on there.’ She stiffened. Asim’s press secretary had been part of Samira’s problem. ‘I haven’t caused any—’
‘Really?’ His head reared back, lips curling disdainfully. ‘I should have known better. So what’s your excuse? Are you saying you didn’t inveigle your way in here by playing on the sympathies and grief of an old lady?’
Jacqui’s breath hissed in. ‘No!’
‘That you had no compunction using any tactic you could to get close to us? To me and my sister, particularly my sister?’
Abruptly he released her and stepped back, his expression sharp and accusing.
Something cracked open inside her and she knew pain would follow as soon as the shock wore off. Jacqui had expected concern over their tactics but not this!
‘Did you think my staff wouldn’t discover it was you who persuaded Samira to approve the press passes for those vultures?’ His face thrust forward into her space, his demeanour intimidating. ‘You think no one heard you promising him an exclusive interview?’ Asim shook his head and Jacqui could have sworn she read regret on his grim features, not simply anger.
He lifted one hand and swiped it down his face, as if rubbing away an unpleasant sight.
The sight of her?
Hurt warred with indignation as Jacqui stared, disbelieving, at her lover. The man she’d grown closer to than anyone else in her life. Something crumpled inside.
How could he speak to her like this after what they’d shared?
What, sneered a tiny voice, sex? You think that makes you special to him? How many women do you think he’s had? You’re just a novelty.
Correction: were just a novelty.
She gasped as pain sliced deep. Her chest heaved and her head spun from lack of oxygen.
‘Samira and Rania trusted you.’ Asim’s voice had lost that pulse of terrible anger. Instead it sounded hollow, like the aching void that opened up inside Jacqui’s chest. ‘And I let them. I encouraged them.’
He shook his head. ‘So tell me, Jacqueline, what’s your excuse? Money? They’d pay a pretty sum for a scoop. Or was it a chance to get back into reporting? Have you had enough of your self-imposed exile from the media?’
Jacqui opened her mouth but no words emerged. It felt like something had broken inside. It took all her strength to stand there, facing him.
She firmed her lips. What was the point, explaining herself when he’d already judged her?
With anyone else she would have tried, but with Asim... He of all people should know her well enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. She’d trusted him, reached out to him as she never had to anyone.
Piercing regret filled her and she knew that soon it would be replaced by anguish. Oh, she could give him the explanation he said he wanted, but should she have to? What was the point? She felt battered in places she couldn’t even name. Places deep within.
Finally she shook her head.
‘Nothing to say? You surprise me.’
Yet still he lingered, hovering like some great, dark cloud about to swoop down and engulf her. As if he actually wanted her to persuade him.
When she remained silent, her gaze fixed on a point over his shoulder, he finally moved.
‘Later,’ he warned in a low growl. Then he marched away into the night.
* * *
Asim returned to the celebrations, accepting compliments and congratulations. Yet he acted on autopilot, his mind on the woman he’d left in the harem.
He’d waited for her to convince him there was some error, that her blatant betrayal of trust was a mistake. He’d wanted her to persuade him.
Even with the evidence of his eyes and the reports of his staff he hadn’t wanted to believe she’d betrayed them.
He’d wanted to believe in her.
A flash of light filled the air, a thunderous explosion that turned heads and made bystanders jump. Asim whipped his head around, relaxing when he realised it was one final sally from the pyrotechnics.
But with the realisation came something else. Something disquieting.
Only now with a cooler head did he recall a detail he hadn’t registered before. When he’d approached Jacqueline and the reporter, he’d been intent on their words, on what secrets she might give away. Now memory conjured up her tight, defensive stance, the way she’d flinched at the fireworks.
She had a fear of sudden loud noises. She’d admitted it herself, and he’d seen it the day they’d turned a corner in one of