"Coward." Jerking back from him she nearly stumbled as she pushed away from him and the tree, glaring back at him as she fought to get her breathing, her emotions, under control.
"Be careful, Marty." His hand jerked out, his fingers curling around her wrist as she tried to turn and head back to her car. "I could take that as a very serious threat."
"So sue me," she snapped back, pulling her arm out of his grip and stumbling from the shadows. "Better yet, don't bother, you'd lose. The evidence is all on my side, sweet cheeks."
Jerking her key from the small hidden pocket of her dress, she grabbed her purse from the ground where it had fallen and stalked to the door of her car.
Releasing the auto lock she pulled open the door and stared back at him from the dubious shield between them.
"You could never understand," he said, his tone filled with dark bitterness.
"And you'll never have the guts to explain," she accused him. "But I'm at a point where I really don't give a damn. Seducing you is starting to bore me anyway. I think I'll go home and see if I can find out why the hell Connor is in my town and what the three of you are up to. I do believe I would find that vastly more entertaining."
He moved fast. Coming from the shelter of the trees he was nearly upon her before she slid into the car, slammed the door closed, and shoved the key into place.
She didn't look at him until she was backing out of the parking space, and what she saw then sent more than shock racing through her. There was a thrill of arousal, and a spark of knowledge.
Behind him, Shayne did nothing to hide the fact that he was there. In the second that she caught his expression she saw the hunger, and knew he had been there watching, listening.
It was no more than she had already suspected, but she hadn't anticipated her own response to it. If she had been wet before, then her panties were soaked now. If she had been aroused before, then lust was flooding her now.
All for nothing.
Reversing quickly she pressed her foot to the gas and shot from the parking lot. It was time she took off the gloves where Khalid was concerned and show him that she may want him until hell froze over, but he sure as hell wasn't the only damned man in the world.
And quite frankly, she was sick of waiting on a lover who did nothing but deny her. It was time to check out other possibilities. And perhaps to show him exactly what he was going to be missing.
Chapter 3
A week later, Khalid stepped into the secured meeting room Sebastian had prepared and faced a part of his past that he had avoided at all costs.
Staring back at the man who could have been his twin brother, Khalid felt his chest tighten, felt the pent-up agony of guilt, and fought not to apologize once again for events he had been unable to control.
Abram el Hamid-Mustafa rose slowly from the couch, his muscular frame standing tall and proud as fierce black eyes stared from a face that had turned to stone years before.
A short, neatly trimmed beard and mustache now covered his lower face. Thick, heavy black lashes would have given his black eyes a sensual, drowsy look had it not been for the pure ice that filled his gaze.
That ice melted as Khalid closed the door behind him and watched as Abram approached him. Behind the other man, Sebastian remained sitting, just as Shayne did.
They were the only ones to attend this meeting, the first in more than two years.
"Khalid, you are of course looking as decadent as ever." A glimmer of a smile warmed Abram's dark gaze as he took in the jeans, the untucked white shirt, and casual leather shoes that Khalid wore.
Khalid grunted at the description as he shot a disgruntled look at his brother's attire. "Slumming today?"
Abram wore a baseball cap, jeans, and a black T-shirt with the name of a popular hard rock band emblazoned on it.
"Ah, the things we must do to survive, eh?" Abram plucked at the front of his shirt before giving Khalid a brief, strong hug and murmuring quietly, "It is good to see you again, little brother."
"Five minutes doesn't make me your little brother," Khalid reminded him as they parted.
"Of course it does." It was their lifelong argument. "Just because you are the son of his prized, redheaded pigeon doesn't make you any less younger than I. It simply makes you luckier."
Khalid's mother, Marilyn Kobrin, a French college student who had been kidnapped while on vacation had had a brother, as well as a fiance, who had been determined to find her. Marilyn hadn't been the type to sit around and wait on rescue, however.
No more than a few weeks after Khalid's birth, she had wrapped her child in a blanket, tied him to her back, and escaped the palace she had been locked inside, for the desert beyond.
She should have died. The desert was no place for a woman alone with a child to care for and very little water for her on her journey.