Sabrina Philips – The Desert King's Bejewelled Bride (страница 3)

‘Just tell me why you’re here, Kaliq.’ Tamara hugged her soft brown jacket around her and buttoned it up to the neck as if the gesture might encourage him to leave. If he registered the less than subtle hint, the unwavering set of his jaw told her its impact had been about as effective as a pellet gun shot into bullet-proof glass.

Surely he hadn’t come all this way to simply throw her words back at her? Yes, she had told him she could never have dealt with the fame his royal status attracted, but she would have said anything that held an element of truth rather than let him know just how deeply he had hurt her. As she recalled it, he had barely listened anyway. She knew that whatever reason she had given didn’t matter, only that his expression had turned to pure hatred the minute she had shaken her head. So why would it matter now?

‘Patience is a virtue, Tamara. Surely even you are still capable of that one?’

Tamara felt her blood boil in anger. ‘Better to lose virtues than to gain defects, Your Highness.’ She dropped into a mocking bow. ‘You used to at least pretend to respect all people in equal measure. Now I see that only goes for people who obey your every whim.’

Kaliq’s eyes glittered up at her. ‘Then it is lucky you have a chance to make good on your transgression.’

Tamara felt every muscle in her body tense. Surely he hadn’t come to ask her…surely he didn’t think—did he?

He paused with all the superiority of a man who was used to people hanging on his every word. ‘I have come to hire you.’

‘Hire me?’ He made her sound like a power tool he needed for some tricky palace DIY.

‘Do not sound so surprised, Tamara. This is what you do, is it not? Appear however and wherever you are paid to do so.’

His words made her ashamed of the first thing she had felt proud of in years.

He continued, oblivious. ‘Which answers your question as to why I am here.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I want you to model for me.’

‘Model what?’

‘The A’zam Sapphires.’

CHAPTER TWO

THE A’zam Sapphires?

Tamara stared in disbelief at his inscrutable expression, telling herself to keep breathing in and out.

To anyone else it might sound as if she had just been offered the biggest scoop of her whirlwind career—the honour of being asked to model the royal jewels of Qwasir, the most ancient and precious sapphires on earth—but Tamara knew that honour had nothing to do with it. This was about revenge. Because they weren’t just valuable heirlooms, or stones so remarkably blue they had their own shade of Dulux paint named after them— they were the gems traditionally worn when the crown prince took a bride. The jewels she might have worn. For real.

Yes, he knew all about offering what looked like perfection on a plate, but there was no way she was going to agree to play his glorified mannequin. Tamara opened her mouth to tell him as much, but the instant she did the door burst open behind her.

‘Your Highness, Prince A’zam, my sincere apologies—I had no idea you had arrived!’ Henry entered in a whirlwind of half-bowed haste. ‘My assistant has only just informed me—oh, you simply can’t get the staff—I would have sent a car immediately if I had known, forgive me. Please, allow me to get you a drink—’

Tamara shut her mouth again, disquiet rippling through her. Henry had been expecting him? Was he somehow in on this whole preposterous scheme?

Kaliq raised his hand and motioned for Henry to stand up straight. Tamara wished he hadn’t bothered. If he had gone much longer without taking a breath he might have exploded in a frenzy of over-exaggerated gesticulation, and so much the better if he had taken Kaliq with him.

‘No matter,’ Kaliq ground out, his eyes blazing as they trailed Henry’s unannounced path through the door and into her dressing room. ‘As you can see, Miss Weston afforded me the same pleasurable intimacy it seems she grants everyone.’

He turned to her, a damning expression playing across his outrageously sensual mouth. ‘You really must take down that “private” sign and replace it with something more appropriate. Unrestricted access, perhaps?’

Henry grinned, showing two rows of yellowing teeth. ‘Oh, yes, Tamara’s a blessing to work with, not another ice-queen like most models these days, if you know what I mean.’ Henry winked at Kaliq as if they were in some sort of private men’s club and nodded to Tamara as if he had paid her a priceless compliment.

‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Kaliq replied, his words deliberate, sending an ominous chill from the nape of Tamara’s neck down to her tailbone. ‘In fact, I believe Tamara was just about to express her enthusiasm for the news that her next assignment will be working for me.’ He looked at her expectantly, but Henry cut in.

‘And who can blame her? The Jezebel girl modelling royal jewels—how’s that for publicity?’ He grinned smarmily all over his face and for the second time that day, and more vehemently than before, Tamara was overcome with the urge to slap him. So Kaliq had gone through Henry to get to her. This wasn’t—oh, God, this was the shoot in the Middle East that Emma had mentioned in passing and that she had been looking forward to?

‘Actually—’ her voice came out louder than she intended and suddenly both men’s eyes were upon her, one greedily, the other indifferently, as if this was a done deal ‘—what I was about to say is that—honoured though I am that you thought of me, Your Highness, I have no wish to accept your offer.’

If the scene had been drawn in a comic book, by the time Tamara’s sarcastic words had hit the air, steam would have been billowing from Henry’s ever-reddening ears. Oblivious to the atmosphere in the room that spoke of a past of which he knew nothing, he turned on Tamara as if she were a petulant child throwing a tantrum for no reason other than to irritate him.

‘You are contracted to Jezebel Limited and, since His Royal Highness has wisely organised this unique modelling opportunity through the company, I’m afraid your impetuous wants, or in this case won’ts, count for nothing.’

Henry guffawed as if he had made the joke of the year, and looked at Kaliq for approval, which didn’t come.

‘Everyone has a choice,’ she said, her voice low, looking directly at Kaliq. ‘Just because someone expects you to perform a certain duty does not mean you have to fall in line.’

For the first time she saw something like emotion flicker in Kaliq’s eyes. Good, she thought to herself, even if it was nothing more than wounded pride.

Henry moved bullishly towards her. ‘You turn this down and you kiss your contract with Jezebel goodbye, Tamara.’

Kaliq abruptly stood up between them, the sheer size of him forcing Henry to take a step back.

‘Thank you—Henry, is it? I am sure Miss Weston is just a little daunted by the enormity of the task. She is bound to be nervous about the proper behaviour—so unfamiliar to her— that will be required in Qwasir. Please leave us, I will put her mind at rest.’

Consumed with frustration that in one fell swoop Kaliq had branded her devoid of both integrity and the ability to stand up for herself, Tamara watched Henry reluctantly depart. She didn’t bother to listen for the sound of his footsteps walking away, for he viewed every chance of a bigger bonus for himself with even hungrier eyes than he ogled every woman who moved. She knew he would not let her determine one of the most lucrative and high profile deals of his career without eavesdropping, regardless of Kaliq’s dismissal. But she didn’t care. This was not about Henry.

This was about Kaliq, as far too many things in her life had already been. Turning her body back round purposefully, she came up against his with a start. In the split second she had turned away, he had silently homed in upon her like some deadly heat-seeking missile. For all the cover it offered her, she wished she had not primly fastened her jacket, her body now flooding with warmth as the distinctive, spicy scent of him filled her nostrils. Sandalwood. Amber. She shook herself. No, she would not forget her resolve just because his sex appeal was so damned potent.

‘You might have grown used to your position and your wealth ensuring that you have everything you desire, Kaliq, but, I promise you, you will not have me.’

She hadn’t meant it to come out like that. She took a step back, her cheeks growing an even brighter shade of crimson. There was no question of him wanting her. Even then she had been nothing to him but a row of ticks on a checklist of suitable attributes.

‘Come, Tamara, do not pretend that finding yourself in this position is not precisely what you truly desire.’ His eyes blazed with contempt. ‘The display of the royal jewels shall be televised worldwide. There will be dignitaries, royalty, the world’s social elite. Exactly the exposure you crave. There is no need to feign shyness.’

‘I signed a contract to Henry, not to you.’

His jaw tensed. ‘Yes. With your abandonment of morality also went shrewd judgement, it seems.’

‘And yet you are in cahoots with him yourself, to use me in any way that suits you. Are the two of you so different, I wonder?’