She had a mental image of him storming the ramparts of her castle and it seemed like a good idea to pull up the drawbridge and shut the gate. ‘So let’s get back to your marital status,’ she said, needing back-up support to hold the barriers in place.
‘I have not yet taken a wife,’ Zageo answered, undermining Emily’s defensive plan.
Feeling decidedly miffed by this, she remarked, ‘I thought sheikhs could take as many wives as they liked. You’re a late starter aren’t you?’
‘I believe the right choice of wife in any culture deserves deep and serious consideration, given the intention of a lifelong commitment and the resulting alliance with another family.’
‘Nothing to do with love, of course,’ she tossed off flippantly.
‘On the contrary, I have observed that compatibility tends to breed a more lasting love than the rather fickle chemistry of being in love.’
She pounced on what seemed like a beacon of relief from any sexual pressure from him. ‘So you don’t think giving in to chemistry is a good idea.’
‘It is not something I would base a marriage on, Emily, but for a time of pure pleasure—’ his eyes positively glittered with white-hot sexual invitation ‘—I think giving in to chemistry is a very sweet and satisfying self-indulgence, to be treasured as something uniquely special to the man and woman involved.’
Emily had to suck in a quick breath to stop an imminent meltdown in her bones, brain and other body parts she didn’t want to think about. ‘I take it you’re not a virgin then,’ she shot at him, mocking the value that had apparently been put on her virginity.
At least it temporarily interrupted the bolt of heat from his eyes, making him blink, then triggering a rippling peal of laughter, lessening the scary tension in the room and leaving Emily feeling slightly safer.
‘I have not foresworn the pleasures of the flesh…no,’ he eventually drawled, his eyes dancing an all too overt anticipation of pleasures she might provide, which did away with any sense of relaxation.
Emily drew in a deep breath and expelled it in a long, slow sigh, desperate to reduce the seesawing inner apprehension which made thinking nimbly very difficult. She felt stripped of any clothing armour and he’d just ripped off the mental armour she’d tried to put in place. Somehow she had to keep her mind at battle readiness because the fight for freedom would probably be lost if she let herself be distracted by this man’s insidious promise of pleasures, which his eyes said were hers for the taking if she co-operated with what he wanted.
The big problem was he was the kind of man who’d tempt any woman into wondering how it might be with him…if, indeed, he would deliver amazing pleasure. Probably it was The Arabian Nights thing again, messing with her mind, making her think of Omar Khayyam’s poetry expressing regret for the fleeting sweetness of life and love, which, in turn, tapped into the lingering emptiness of missing Brian, all contributing to her feeling of why not experience this man?
A harsh strain of common sense insisted it would compromise her whole situation if she did. ‘I have to be here for Hannah,’ she muttered, savagely reminding herself of her prime motivation.
‘There cannot be any urgency about this meeting with your sister or you would not have chosen to come by yacht,’ Zageo pointed out.
‘Even by sailing, I figured I’d make it here by about the same time as Hannah. And I preferred to save my money.’
His mouth curled into a mocking little smile. ‘Staying at The Salamander Inn does not equate with saving money, Emily.’
He was still doubting her story.
‘I didn’t say I was going to stay there,’ she reminded him.
‘Where did you plan to stay?’
‘If Hannah wasn’t here already, I intended to find a place that suited my budget while I waited for her.’
‘Then you should have no problem with accepting my hospitality while you wait for your sister’s arrival in Zanzibar,’ he said silkily. ‘That would undoubtedly suit your budget best. No cost whatsoever.’
‘Oh, right!’ Emily mocked back before she could stop her tongue from cutting loose on him. ‘And I suppose you’ll expect me to belly-dance for you every night!’
His elegant hands performed their graceful invitational gesture. ‘If you feel you should recompense me in some way, by all means…’
‘What if Hannah is at the inn already?’ Emily cut in, hating the sense of being helplessly cornered, and feeling that Sheikh Zageo bin Sultan Al Farrahn was enjoying himself far too much at her expense!
‘That can be checked immediately.’
He leaned forward and picked up a mobile telephone from the table. The modern means of communication again struck Emily as odd in this setting but the evidence of its use all around the palace assured her that life in the twenty-first century was not excluded here. Unfortunately most of the one-sided conversation she subsequently listened to was not in English. Of all the words spoken, only the name, Hannah Coleman, was recognisable.
Emily literally sat on the edge of her seat as she waited, hoping for news that would validate her story, as well as assure her of Hannah’s safe arrival. ‘Well?’ she prompted anxiously, once the call connection had been ended.
The dark eyes targeted hers with riveting intensity. ‘Your sister is not at the inn. Nor has there been a booking in her name.’
Disappointment warred with doubt as to the truth of what she was being told. ‘How do I know you’re not lying?’ burst from her tongue.
His face tightened forbiddingly. ‘Why would I lie?’
Even to her overstrained mind, to get me into your bed sounded absurd, given his extraordinary good looks and incredibly wealthy resources.
Zageo’s dark eyes blazed with angry suspicion as he pointed out, ‘It is you, Emily Ross, who has cause to concoct many lies in order to paint yourself as an innocent victim.’
‘I swear to you on any amount of bibles or Korans or whatever carries weight in both our worlds, I’ve told you nothing but the truth.’
One black eyebrow arched in sceptical challenge. ‘Where is your sister coming from?’
‘Zimbabwe.’ Realising she now had to explain more, Emily offered, ‘You must know about the political problems in that country. It’s world news. Everyone knows. Hannah’s husband is trying to hang onto his farm, but he wants her and the children out while he…’