The Sheik & the Bride Who Said No

He raised one eyebrow and waited. She shifted in her seat. Okay, yes, maybe she wouldn’t mind knocking his socks off with her accomplishments, but she didn’t like that he’d guessed.

“Come, Daphne,” he said, moving closer and focusing all of his considerable attention on her. “Tell me everything. Did you finish college? What have you been doing?” He picked up her left hand and examined the bare fingers. “I see you have not given your heart to anyone.”

She didn’t like the assessment, nor did she appreciate the tingles that rippled up from her hand to her arm. He’d always been able to do that—reduce her to pudding with a single touch. Why couldn’t that have changed? Why couldn’t time away have made her immune?

“I’m not engaged, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “I’m not willing to discuss the state of my heart with you. It’s none of your business.”

“As you wish. Tell me about college.”

She clutched her champagne in her right hand and thought about swallowing the whole thing in one big gulp. It might provide her with a false sense of courage, which was better than no courage at all.

“I completed my degree as planned, then went on to become a veterinarian.”

He looked two parts delighted, one part surprised. “Good for you. You enjoy the work?”

“Very much. Until recently I’ve been with a large practice in Chicago. My first two years with them I spent summers in Indiana, working on a dairy farm.”

She couldn’t remember ever really shocking Murat before, so now she allowed herself to enjoy his expression of astonishment. “Delivering calves?”

“Pretty much.”

“It is not seemly.”

She laughed. “It was my job. I loved it. But lately I’ve been working with small animals. Dogs, cats, birds. The usual.” She took another sip and smiled. “If your father needs any help with the cats he should let me know.”

“I will be sure to pass along your offer. Chicago is very different from Bahania.”

“I agree. For one thing, there aren’t any words to describe how cold that wind can be in the winter.”

“We have no such discomfort here.”

That was true. The weather in paradise was pretty darned good.

“You’re not very close to your family,” he said.

Daphne nearly spilled her champagne. Okay, so it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she didn’t fit in with the “real” Snowdens, but she was surprised Murat would say something like that so blatantly. After all…

The light went on in her head. “You mean I live far away,” she said.

“Yes. They are all on the East Coast. Is that the reason you chose to settle in Chicago?”

“Part of it,” she admitted. “I handle the constant disapproval better from a distance.”

“Aren’t your parents proud of what you have accomplished?”

“Not really. They keep waiting for me to wake up and get engaged to a senator. I’m resisting the impulse.”

She spoke with a casualness, as if her family’s expectations didn’t matter, but Murat saw the truth in her blue eyes.

Pain, he thought. Pain from disappointing them, pain from not being accepted for who and what she was. Daphne had always been stubborn and determined and proud. From what he could see, little had changed about that.

Her appearance had been altered, though. Her face was thinner, her features more defined. Whereas at twenty she had held the promise of great beauty, now she fulfilled it. There was an air of confidence about her he liked.

She leaned forward. “I’ve spent the past couple of years studying pet psychology.”

“I have not heard of that.”

She smiled again, her full lips curving upward as if she were about to share a delicious private joke. “You’d appreciate it. The field is growing rapidly. We’re interested in why animals act the way they do. What set of circumstances combine with their personality to make them act aggressively or chew furniture or not accept a new baby. That sort of thing.”

He couldn’t believe such information existed. “This is what you are doing now?”

“I’m getting into it. I’ve learned some interesting things about dealing with alpha males.” She tilted her head. “Maybe I could use the techniques to tame you.”

“Neither of us is interested in me being tame.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“I do.”

“You’re certainly sure of yourself.”

“The privilege of being the alpha male.”

She continued to study him. Awareness crackled between them. He could smell the faint scent of the soap she’d used and some other subtle fragrance he associated only with her.

Wanting coiled low in his gut, surprising him with both its presence and its intensity. After all this time? He’d always wondered what he would feel if he saw her again, but somehow he’d never expected to have a strong need to touch her, explore her, take her.

He wanted to lead her into one of the many harem bedrooms and make her shudder beneath him. Funny how so much time had passed and the desire hadn’t gone away.

“You’re looking very predatory,” she said. “What are you thinking?”

“I was wondering about your art. Do you still make time to do your sculptures?”

She hesitated, as if she didn’t quite believe that was what he’d been thinking, then she answered.

“I still love it, but time is always an issue.”

“Perhaps I should provide you with clay while you are here. You can indulge your passion.”

“How long do you intend to keep me in the harem?”

“I have not yet decided.”

“So we really do need to talk about Brittany.”

Just then the large golden doors opened and several servants walked in pushing carts.

“Dinner,” he said, rising to his feet.