The Royal House of Karedes: One Family: Ruthless Boss, Royal Mistress / The Desert King's Housekeeper Bride / Wedlocked: Banished Sheikh, Untouched Queen. Carol Marinelli
Читать онлайн книгу.
rest. You’ve got a big night ahead of you tomorrow.’
She felt the finality of his words and got the message. The fooling around was finished. Light, naughty talk was all it was—he might have said he wanted to see what was beneath her surface, but it was just words. He certainly didn’t see her real self, not right now—and she’d never be able to show him. Not when she knew he wasn’t interested in anything more than burning out the flame.
But she still wanted him. And if she was going to have him, then she would make sure he was a slave to it as much as she was.
When they finally arrived on Aristo it was early on the morning of the party. James headed straight into meetings with the contractors and Liss buzzed straight to the ballroom to make sure all the plans were in place. The catering company had use of the kitchen and she was pleased to see all the food had arrived and was being prepared with the finishing touches she’d requested.
With a satisfied air she watched for a while as the army of florists worked. The building itself was spectacular. She’d just added some exquisite details. There was no way it wouldn’t be a success.
In the late afternoon she dressed with care but with speed, hyped on adrenalin. Underneath she bubbled with the kind of excitement that came only from anticipation of what delights the evening might bring. The evening when James would be wearing a tux and, fingers crossed, be totally wowed by all her efforts. Surely, once the party was done, she deserved a little reward? Technically her work for him would be done, so she could kind of argue that he was no longer her boss. And no one else from the Sydney office was here. No one would know…
She paused in the doorway, the earliest she’d ever arrived at a ball, but as she was effectively the hostess she had to be here to greet her guests. She ran her hands over her hips—smoothing the sensuous fabric with satisfaction. She’d gone with black—classic, elegant. A one-off designer number—sexy and sophisticated, and she’d been saving it for just such an occasion.
James saw her immediately; for a moment they looked each other over and the electric attraction pulsed between them. The flash of heat was so intense she wanted to bail out on the ball and have him in her room right then. Nobody, but nobody wore a tux The way James Black did.
‘Princess.’ He was the one who spoke, reminding her of the presence of the manager, of all the wait staff.
‘You’ve done a wonderful job with the decoration of the ballroom,’ the manager gushed.
Liss smiled, replied politely and wondered why James wasn’t gushing—he should be. But he stood quiet beside her and then the guests began to arrive. As fun as it was catching up with everyone she only had an awareness of him. Almost on auto she mingled and mixed up the people, kept an eye on the overview, ensuring everything was going as smoothly as possible.
Waiters filled glasses from a fountain she’d had installed—it ceaselessly flowed with Cristal champagne. The room was filled with the heady scent of the orchids she’d had flown in specially. Gathered in large boughs, they were exotic and dramatic and doused the place in an atmosphere of expense.
She couldn’t help frequently glancing at James to assess his reaction. She saw him take some of the caviar that was being offered on exquisite napkins. There was nothing more exclusive. He ate one sample but didn’t take another. She saw him looking round at the guests filling the room, saw him look at his watch. She felt pleased. They were all here, already—all eager to come to what was the ball of the year. The dresses and skin on show were something. She stood and smiled and chatted. A success, right from the start. She’d actually done it. A giddy glow warmed her—heightened by the knowledge that he was so close.
They weren’t even an hour into it when James discreetly gestured for her to join him. She fell into step, her body tightening, teased by the thought of being alone with him. He led her out of the ballroom to one of the little meeting rooms down the corridor.
He waited for her to go in ahead of him. ‘How do you think it’s going?’
She smiled as she heard him close the door behind them and her level of excitement rose another notch. ‘It’s marvelous, isn’t it?’
She looked at him and lost her smile immediately at the hard glare in his eyes. What? What was wrong?
‘You don’t think there’s anything missing?’
She couldn’t think of anything. Incredible food, incredible wine, incredible company—what else was there?
He nodded at her blankness. ‘Why are we having this ball, princess?’
She really didn’t like the way he said ‘princess’. ‘To celebrate the opening of the hotel.’
‘Right. Why else?’
There was another reason for the celebration?
‘To promote it, right?’ He spoon-fed her the answer.
‘Yes.’And it was a wonderful promotion—everyone would see how fabulous the hotel was.
‘So what’s missing?’
She really couldn’t think—everyone who was anyone was here.
His temper started to show then as slowly, super sarcastically, he spelt it out for her. ‘What about cameras, princess? Photographers. Journalists. TV people.’
Oh…
‘This wasn’t just some jolly for you to arrange for all your mates, Elissa. I’m running a business here. I wanted it in every glossy magazine on the planet. Remember?’
Yes. That bit was coming back to her now.
‘You didn’t arrange flights and accommodation for any press, did you?’
Feeling too sick to speak, she simply shook her head. She’d been too busy planning all the exclusive stuff and inviting the who’s who.
‘What did you think was going to happen—that the world’s media would flock just because you’re in attendance? Well, sorry, sweetheart, this wasn’t about some blurry paparazzi shot showing you worse for wear.’
The words knifed deep into her heart.
‘It isn’t all about you, princess.’
The knife twisted.
‘I just can’t believe you could screw this up. What on earth were you thinking?’
She’d been thinking of him.
‘When I ask you to do a job, you do it—properly.’
She’d tried, she’d really tried but…
‘It’s my own fault.’ He spoke more to himself than her. ‘I should never have left this up to you. I should never have thought for a second that you could manage it.’
She had no answer to that.
He pressed his fingers to his temples, visibly trying to contain his temper. She’d really rather he yelled and stomped around the room a bit. But he was too much of a man for that—with too good a rein on his emotions.
And it really hurt. She stood still, not wanting to move, not wanting to breathe in case he flared and said something else in that horrible way. And she couldn’t think of a thing to do to make it better.
‘The champagne is good,’ he finally spoke again—quiet, colourless.
She nodded, hoping for a lightening of the atmosphere. No way could he find fault with her taste. ‘Cristal.’
‘And the decoration on the napkins for the caviar—what’s that?’
‘Real gold leaf.’ She managed to get her voice higher than a thread that time.
He grunted. Maybe it was a snort. Either way it didn’t sound positive. ‘So tell me.’
Tell him what? Hell, this was such a nightmare and he was stringing it out.
‘How