surprised to see her finished so quickly and glanced at his watch. “That took you less than five minutes,” he mumbled, standing up and coming towards her. “How did you do that so quickly?”
“You told me we were going to be late.”
He glanced down at his watch once again. “We were. If you’d taken an hour to get ready like I assumed you would.”
“So now we’re early?”
He chuckled at her disgruntled expression and moved closer. “What shall we do with the extra time?”
She stepped back and put her hand up to the middle of his chest to stop him in his tracks. “Not what you’re thinking. Remember? I’m still mad at you.”
He pushed her hand away and pulled her closer. “No you’re not.”
She accepted his touch, thrilling to the way he was so possessive of her, but unwilling to give in on this issue. “Yes I am,” she said and tucked her lipstick into his breast pocket.
“You’re not. I heard you through the bathroom door. And that’s not my color,” he joked, referring to her lipstick.
“Funny man. It’s for me. I don’t have a purse.”
“So I get the honor of carrying your lipstick?”
“Dubious honor, but yes.” She marched out of the suite and smiled to her guards. “And yes, I am still mad at you. I’m just not showing it.”
He chuckled and put a hand to the small of her back to guide her towards the formal dining room where they would meet their guests.
Dana waited until she was introduced to the Ambassador and his wife, but then stepped forward and smiled graciously. “Bon soir,” she said effortlessly. “Comment t’alley vous ce soir?” in perfect French.
Three sets of eyes widened in surprise and Dana maintained her serene expression, glad to have surprised Hassan with her knowledge of foreign languages. It was, after all, one of the reasons she’d been moved into her current position so she didn’t understand why he was surprised.
The evening turned out to be a great success with Hassan and the ambassador agreeing to several issues while Dana and the ambassador’s wife discussed other country’s politics or lapsed into the traditional and easy conversational topics such as fashion or travel.
The meal was delicious, as predicted and it was nice to sit at the table with only the four of them and discuss politics. Dana watched in fascination as Hassan worked the French Ambassador, getting through his points and acknowledging the ambassador’s as well. They were dancing a very fine minuet, she thought. Neither giving in on a subject until the other conceded something as well, so both parties came away from the evening feeling as if they’d gained something important, all the while pretending that the meal was only a social event.
After waving goodbye to the ambassador and his wife, Dana yawned hugely and smiled her thanks to the wait staff who had helped during the meal. She then turned and walked out of the dining room, heading back to her own suite and away from Hassan and his charming self. “Where are you going?” Hassan asked as they left the dining room. Dana automatically turned to the right which would take her to her suite while Hassan was pulling her to the left towards his private quarters.
“I’m going to bed.”
He pulled her flush against his body, pressing her against him so she could understand. “That was exactly my intention.”
Dana could feel his body harden against her stomach and tried to push him away, closing her eyes in an effort to block out pictures of what he might do to her. “No,” she said but it was a weak and breathless protest. She had to remember Farida and not give in, she told herself firmly.
“You’re mouth is saying no, but your body is leaning into mine, your hands are around my neck and you’re shivering with expectation.”
Dana opened her eyes and realized that her arms were in fact around his neck. She pulled them down and tried to step back, but he held her hips, pressing her close while his head bent down. When his lips touched her neck, she couldn’t help but shiver with more than expectation. It was anticipation, bold, heavy and overwhelming. “You can’t do that,” she whispered but felt her head lean to the left so he had better access.
“What can’t I do?” he breathed against her ear. “This?” he asked as his teeth nibbled on her earlobe.
“Yes.”
“And maybe I can’t do this?” and his hand went to her back, sliding around her