Innocent in the Desert: The Sheikh's Impatient Virgin / The Sheikh's Convenient Virgin / The Desert Lord's Bride. Trish Morey
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that attempting to separate the emotions was pointless.
‘Luke’s gone.’ And to her annoyance he hadn’t believed a word she’d said.
Oh, well, there was a silver lining at least. Now Luke was not going to be spreading stories about her alleged virginity—any sniggers were going to be about one-night stands, which was, as it happened, marginally less embarrassing.
Karim’s cold expression hid the anger he struggled to contain as he retrieved his jacket from the back of a chair.
‘I have somewhere I need to be. I’m late. We will discuss this situation later.’
The man could multitask, Eva thought, clasping her hands protectively across her chest. He could shrug on his jacket and simultaneously send her a look that most people reserved for something nasty on their shoe.
She was bemused by his attitude and found being viewed with such acute distaste not pleasant, though for all she knew, this might be his normal expression. While she hadn’t expected thanks for not throwing him out the previous evening, a little civility would not, in her opinion, have been out of place.
‘There’s nothing much to discuss, is there?’
In the act of fastening the middle button on his jacket he paused and, one brow raised, shot her a look that brimmed with icy incredulity.
Puzzled by his inexplicable hostility, she shrugged and said, ‘Well, there isn’t.’ For all she knew this might be the norm for him, which had to make him a positive delight to be around.
‘Drop the innocent act.’
The terse advice made her blink owlishly up at him. As she did she was conscious where his gaze was levelled. The slow burning blush began like a prickle under her skin and worked its way out until her body was suffused by a rosy glow as she pulled her flapping robe across her chest and belted it firmly.
The top button of her pyjama top was presumably in the bed somewhere. Trying very hard not to think about how it had ended up there, she lifted her chin and retorted, ‘Look, I’d love to trade insults, but I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I have no taste for play-acting.’ His frown still in place, he reached inside his jacket with a frown.
When he withdrew his hand a pair of boxer shorts that had been spoiling the line of his perfect tailoring appeared.
Crawling out of her skin with embarrassment, Eva wondered if she wished hard enough would she vanish …?
He held the bright red boxers with the strategically placed suggestive logo out as though they carried a contagious disease, the film of icy contempt in his stunning eyes deepening as he observed, ‘Not mine, I think.’
Definitely not his, but the problem was Eva could see him in them and actually, as her imagination took another unscheduled leap, without them.
I am losing my mind—it is the only explanation.
Struggling to adopt an expression that did not scream ‘I’m thinking about you naked,’ Eva looked at Luke’s borrowed item of clothing swinging from his fingers and felt the blush extend to every part of her anatomy.
Was it really only yesterday that arranging Luke’s personal items around the flat had seemed like a brilliant idea?
She had opened her mouth to offer a hurried explanation when she thought, Why should I? What right does he have to look down on me from that great moral height?
She was willing to bet that when it came to moral depravity he could teach her a thing or two. Her gaze drifted to his mouth, drawn by the overtly sensual sculpted curve of his lips, and she thought, Probably considerably more than two!
She blinked to clear the sensual fog that was thickening in her brain and wondered if there was some physiological reason for this explosion of ill-timed hormonal activity as she lifted her chin and schooled her expression into neutrality, murmuring a soft thank-you.
He looked visibly taken aback by the quiet dignity of her response, but the flicker of uncertainty didn’t last. Eva wasn’t surprised—he was obviously not the type of man to doubt his own judgement and his judgement of her was clearly that she was some sort of predatory trollop!
In any other circumstances this fatally flawed casting might have appealed to Eva’s lively sense of humour, but nothing about this acutely uncomfortable situation made her feel like smiling.
While Karim had been enjoying his freedom with a series of like-minded ladies, he had never suffered a moment’s unease thinking about their previous lovers. So he was totally unprepared for the lick of sheer rage produced by the mental image of the faceless men who had occupied Eva’s bed before him. Unable to banish the image of another man’s hands caressing her taut, high breasts, Karim struggled for control as his emotions flamed higher.
‘You must have quite a healthy lost-property box.’
Her startled glance flew to his face and, registering the condemnation there, she embraced the rush of anger filling her as she snatched the boxers from his fingers.
Keeping her combative glare trained on his face, she squeezed them up into a ball and pushed them into her dressing-gown pocket.
‘I’m not the lost one.’
He didn’t look lost now, either—he looked like someone she would not have invited into her home. A secret shiver slid down her spine … He had danger written all over him.
‘And if it’s reputation you’re worrying about,’ she suggested calmly, ‘don’t. Luke won’t say anything.’
She hoped resolving to stress her request that he keep this to himself at the first opportunity. Luke had many fine qualities, but she knew that the ability to keep a good story to himself was not one of them.
‘So Luke is the owner of …?’ Karim gave a sharp nod towards the red fabric sticking out of her pocket.
Watching his nostrils quiver with distaste, Eva folded her arms across her chest, wondering who made him the Chief Justice of good taste?
If he wanted to think she had so many men she couldn’t keep track of their underclothes, let him, she thought as she admitted, ‘Well, I wouldn’t swear to it, but they are his sort of thing. Luke,’ she added, defiance slipping into her voice, ‘is a friend.’
Hate was a strong word for a strong emotion, but this man wasn’t a person who inspired tepid. Her expression set stiffly, she walked to the sitting-room door and held it open in invitation, saying with a smile that left her eyes unfriendly, ‘I’d say it has been a pleasure but …’ She deepened the smile, raised her brows and let her scorn show as she gave a suggestive shrug.
‘I fail to understand your unfriendly mood. You have achieved what you set out to …’
Her feathery brows knitted as she angled a questioning look at him. ‘What have I achieved?’
‘You might find marriage is not what you expect.’
‘Marriage?’ she parroted, oozing a hoarse laugh. ‘Are you mad? Or is that your idea of a joke? There is not going to be any marriage. I only agreed to see you because my grandfather asked me to. I was just being polite.’
Karim nodded towards the open bedroom door and allowed his grin to widen. ‘You have an interesting take on polite.’
Eva stared at him in horror. ‘You think we slept together?’
Her dismay appeared so genuine that Karim was forced to consider for the first time the unlikely possibility that she had genuinely not thought of the consequences when she had allowed him to share her bed.
Such a hedonistic attitude to life was alien to Karim, who could not remember a time when he had not known his actions had consequences. If this lost princess really thought she could carry on as she had she was facing a rude awakening and very steep learning curve!
He