The Sheikh's Reunion Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs 4) (10 page)

They were in the study that Rafiq used whenever he was visiting his parents for anything longer than a day or two. The room was moderately sized compared to the palatial expanses of most of the rest of the palace. But, more importantly it had once been Rafiq own room as he had been growing up in the palace. Now, it was an office, albeit a sparsely furnished one. Rafiq didn't sleep here anymore. He had his own suite on the other wing of the palace. It was usually kept ready for him in case he had to stay over.

Rafiq gazed down at the sheet of paper that Mia had laid in front of him. He saw the signature authorizing the transfer of a substantial sum from the investment account. The signature was Sayid's. No doubt about it. But, why had Sayid transferred such an amount without telling Rafiq? Usually all such transactions had to be subjected to a joint authorization.

But, this one was different. And Rafiq didn't recognize the destination account. Something wasn't right, and Mia had found the evidence within a set of documents she had hastily grabbed on the way out to the airport in London.

Mia's expression was serious as she gazed across the desk at Rafiq. "I think that's pretty conclusive," she said. "Although there will undoubtedly be corroborating documents in your head office in Qazhar City. I assume I'm right in saying that?" she asked.

Rafiq nodded. "Yes. We can go there tomorrow, if you like."

Mia stiffened in her seat. "I'd prefer to do that myself."

Rafiq squinted at her. "I can come with you, if you like," he offered.

Mia shook her head. "I don't think that's necessary. I'm sure the people in your office can help me find what I need. Especially if you give me permission."

"You make all this sound so easy," Rafiq said.

"It's simply business, Rafiq. Paper trails."

"But, where will the trail lead?"

Mia shrugged. "I don't know. But, once we have the documents that confirm what we suspect, we should consider speaking with Sayid."

"And what do we suspect?" Rafiq asked.

"That's what we'll find out tomorrow. Or rather, what I'll find out."

"You insist on going alone?"

"With your permission, of course"

"You don't need my permission for anything."

"Strictly speaking I don't, but it would be nice if you would be helpful."

Rafiq stood and came around the side of the desk, taking up a position directly in front of the seated Mia. He gazed down at her, taking in the sight of her luscious curves, feeling a tension twist inside himself.
 

For her part, Mia peered up at him, holding her gaze on him, defiantly meeting his eyes. Her blue eyes seemed to shimmer. There was a momentary challenge on her face, as if she knew what he was doing, as if she understood the move he had made and what that meant.

"I want to be helpful to you, Mia," Rafiq murmured. He saw her eyes widen subtly, saw her bottom lip become suddenly fuller and more moist. He saw her swallow, but she still refused to shift in her chair, denying him the victory of seeing any kind of unease in her.
 

He loved it when she defied him, pushed him back, forced him to wait. And, she was doing that right now.
 

"I appreciate everything you're doing, Rafiq. But, it's best that I clarify the situation myself. Just to make sure you aren't implicated in any wrongdoing.

She must have seen his brows rise in surprise, because she hastily sought to qualify what she had just said. "Not that I believe for one moment that you are involved in any way. After all, it is your own money."

"But, why would Sayid do anything untoward?" Rafiq asked. He gripped the side of the desk, the tension racing down to his hands. He gritted his teeth and glanced at Mia. She would find the answer to all of this. He was sure of that, had faith in her abilities.

Mia rose quickly, catching Rafiq unawares. She faced him, and for a moment she held his gaze. He could have given in to the sudden urge to reach over and wrap his arms around her waist, drawing her hard against him, feeling the smooth fabric of her blue dress against the skin of his hands.
 

He wanted to have her close enough to him so that he could inhale the sweet aroma of her perfume, as well as her natural scent. The heat in the room had caused her to perspire and he had already caught a hint of her natural scent, and it had merely triggered a visceral reaction in his body.

Mia paused, her eyes meeting his, and her right hand went casually to her hip. She adopted a playful pose and dragged her gaze away from him, peering around the room, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the place where Rafiq had grown up.

"So, this used to be your own room," she said.

Mia turned and took a few steps away from Rafiq. His gaze wandered appreciatively down her back. The reverse of her dress was as low cut as the front. He could see her elegant neck and the beautiful curve of her shoulders, her spine a wondrous line that just called out for him to run his finger down its length. She moved so smoothly, as if she was completely unaware of his gaze. But he knew that was a lie. He knew she was conscious of his penetrating gaze.
 

But it didn't seem to trouble her at all. Had she already decided that Rafiq could be held at bay, that the defences she had constructed would hold?

Mia took a few steps across to his bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling, and cocked her head to one side, reading the spines of the books stacked there. He heard her mutter an approving sound as she ran her gaze along the titles.

"I didn't realize you were such a reader, Rafiq," she said.

Rafiq moved away from the desk and took a few steps toward Mia. The trail of her perfume was like a teasing line in the air that he followed like a man entranced.

Mia turned and squinted at Rafiq. "Quite the well-read man, aren't you," she stated.

"Why are you surprised?" he said moving toward her. He saw her gaze flicker hesitantly down the length of his body. There was that approval again, he told himself. The knowledge that she so obviously approved prompted a rush of sensation through his body, firming his resolve.

"And you? What do your tastes run to?" Rafiq asked.

Mia raised a brow. "Are you talking about reading?"

Rafiq was mere inches away from Mia now. She was teasing him again; playing with him in that way she had done so often every time they had been alone in the summer garden back in England. It had aroused him then, and it was having the same effect upon him now.

"Of course I'm talking about reading," he answered.

Mia raised a casual hand and pointed toward his bookshelves. "That's quite a collection of serious books you have there," she said. "I've seen collections like that before. Sometimes rich people like to pretend they're well-read." She cocked her head and raised an inquiring brow. "Just to make themselves look smarter than they are."

Rafiq drew in a deep breath and his gaze flickered to Mia's breasts. He could see her pebbled nipples through the fabric of her dress. Was she aroused by this sparring? Was this her idea of fun?

Rafiq knew he couldn't touch her, knew that if he did he would spoil the delicious tension of the moment. A part of him, deep down in a very dark place, wanted to lift Mia off her feet and carry her over to the desk, lay her down and consume her, show her just what she meant to him. Images of that flashed into his consciousness, threatening to wrench away his self-control.

Mia glanced away, and he was sure she had seen the flush of color that had rushed to his face. How could she not be aware of the tension that was making him firm with a desire that threatened to burst loose with all the consequences that would entail?

Mia moved away from him and he watched her like a man bewitched. The sound of her shoes on the marble floor caused him to glance down at her muscled calves, savoring the delicate turn of her ankles. He felt his nostrils flare. Maintaining propriety was proving to be harder than he had anticipated.

Mia moved over to some shelves behind his desk. There were objects which had special value laid out there. Mia eased alongside the shelves and leaned in, examining the photographs.
 

She picked one up and turned to Rafiq. "Is this you?"

Rafiq moved quickly over and took the frame from Mia. He held it, gazing at it and smiling. It was a photograph of a very young Rafiq sitting proudly atop a beautiful white horse. "That's me when I was ten years old."

Mia reached across and took the framed photo from Rafiq. As she took it from him, her fingertips touched his hand, sending a tingle up his arm. If that was how a simple touch of her fingertips affected him, Rafiq could only imagine how he would react to the touch of other parts of her body. He cleared his throat as images flashed into his mind, images that he needed to hide from Mia.

She glanced at Rafiq and grinned. "You have a very cheeky expression on your face," she said. Her eyes narrowed. "In the photograph, I mean," she added quickly.

"I was a precocious child," he explained.

"More than precocious," Mia replied. "Even then, I can see you were going to be handsome when you grew up," she said.

Rafiq squinted at Mia. "Compliments?" he said with hint of irony.

Mia glanced back to the photograph and shrugged. "I suppose you get your good looks from your father?"

Rafiq shook his head. "I have my mother's eyes," he said. "Or so I've been told."

Mia gazed into Rafiq's eyes as if she were checking for something. "Color? Or expression," she said.

Rafiq gave her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

Mia smiled. "Do you get your eye color from her? Or is it the kind expression in those dark pools," she said.

She was teasing him again. He knew it, and it made him want to seize her and crash his lips down upon her mouth. He needed to show her that there was more than kindness hidden in his depths.

He saw Mia hesitate as she judged the effect of her remark. She quickly placed the photograph back on the shelf. "You haven't told me about growing up here. What was it like?" she asked.

Rafiq sighed. "Just your average wealthy family upbringing," he said trying to introduce an element of his own humor into their conversation.

He saw that she was still serious, that she seemed to really want to know more about him.

"I already told you all about myself," he said defensively.

"When?"

"At your parents' home. During that summer."

Mia frowned. "I don't recall you telling me anything. In fact, you were pretty secretive about yourself."

"I wasn't secretive at all," he insisted. "It was just that you were so young and innocent, I didn't want you to know all the sordid details about myself," he said with a devilish grin.

"Sordid? That sounds so intriguing," she teased and then she scrunched her nose. "And what do you mean, I was innocent?" she asked seeming suddenly irritated.

"Well, you were. In fact, I don't think I've ever known a woman as innocent as you," he said.

Now she was starting to look angry, Rafiq said to himself.

"What exactly are we talking about when we mean innocent?" she asked. Her gaze was penetrating, searching for an instant response.

Rafiq racked his brain for a way to rephrase that word. It had too many meanings, and he was sure that the one that immediately came to mind did not apply to Mia. He looked at her closely and saw the color rush to her face. Her brows had knitted into a tense ridge. Suddenly she looked uneasy and took a few steps away from Rafiq.

"I mean, you were full of enthusiasm for life. Everything seemed to excite you. Thrill you," he started to say but she continued to move away from him.
 

Rafiq saw Mia nod wordlessly as she continued to move toward the other side of the room.

Rafiq followed her and made his way to her side. It was true. He had said something to upset her. He could see the irate expression on her face. She couldn't disguise the fact.
 

Rafiq figured he was starting to be able to read Mia pretty well. In the forty-eight hours since they'd come together again, he was beginning to notice all the small reactions, the tiny responses that revealed so much. It was as if he was already able to read her thoughts, interpret her body language. And he did enjoy reading her body like a book, devouring the details in the search for hidden truths.

Rafiq saw Mia's face suddenly flush and for a moment he thought she looked unsteady on her feet. She gasped.

Rafiq reached out and took Mia's elbow, his previous desire instantly replaced by an urgent concern for her well-being. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Mia reached up and rubbed the back of her hand on her forehead. "I don't know whats come over me," she murmured.

"You need some fresh air," he replied releasing her and striding toward the doors that led to the balcony. He thrust the doors open, letting in a rush of fresh air. He turned and saw that Mia was still having trouble. She'd reached out to a chair and was holding on tight, trying to steady herself.

Rafiq made his way quickly to Mia and took her arm. She let him lead her to the balcony and in a moment she was standing by his side. He heard her draw in a deep breath and raise her gaze to the brilliant blue sky. If he'd had his way, and if he'd been sure his judgment was sound, Rafiq would have drawn Mia close to him, just to make sure she was secure on her feet, of course. He tried to rationalize that to himself, but for some reason, it didn't feel like the right thing to do. It wasn't the right moment for such a gesture, he told himself.

Mia swayed slightly, and for a moment she shifted quickly, gently colliding with him. But then she seemed to realize what had happened and she just as quickly restored the distance between them both, reaching out and taking hold of the ornately carved balustrade.

"Better?" he asked.

Mia nodded slowly without saying anything.
 

Rafiq gave her all the time she needed. The truth was, he was savoring the opportunity to be out under the azure sky and bright sun.
 

Beyond the balcony he could see the distant expanse of the glorious desert that he loved so much. Glancing at Mia, he realized this could all be overwhelming for her. Being thrust into a veritable land of wonder must seem intimidating to someone unaccustomed to such a riot of sensory impressions.