The Sheikh's Forbidden Jewel

Part 7-Chapter 6

Colour drained from Georgina's face.

"I... I was only looking."

Idriss moved into the room and she recoiled, eyes widening in anguish. How could she still play the innocent, now he'd caught her red-handed?

"Don't lie, Georgina. You're not that good at it."

The sound of plastic hitting wood made them both look down. She'd dropped the key stick she'd been holding. He picked it up, held it one inch from her nose.

"How much information on me were you planning to download? What's the game, Georgina? Find out as much as you can about me, so your family can blackmail me?"

Her skin flared up, pinker than the peach negligee she was wearing, that caressed her curves in a way that threatened to distract him from his inquisition. Zarba, the more the woman lied, the more he wanted her.

"Why would we do that?" She sounded stunned. "We are not your enemy."

Idriss's jaw tightened further.

"So why are you sneaking around at night, digging into my files?"

She talked to the floor rather than him.

"I just wanted to see... To check...

He registered then the image that was filling the screen.

"See what? How good the Iron Star would look around your neck?"

He nursed his anger, deployed it like a shield. It protected him from the deep sense of betrayal welling up inside him. To think that for a few hours on his boat, he'd almost forgotten he didn't trust her. To think he'd let her tough-but-vulnerable act fool him. He should have known better.

"You can't have it, Lady Beaufort."

Her head jerked up.

"That remains to be seen."

He let out a sardonic bark.

"Seriously? I know you English aristocrats have an inflated sense of your own importance, but you really think you can take the Star from me?"

Georgina bunched her fists on her lap. He tried not to notice how the slinky fabric glued itself to her thighs.

"You don't even know why I was looking at it."

His fingers curled around the key stick, until the angles dug into his skin.

"I don't need to ask. The Beauforts always want more, don't they?"

She rose to her feet, as dignified as anyone can be when wearing a scrap of wispy silk.

"And I suppose you only accumulate these things for the good of humanity?"

Her gesture encompassed the computer, the office, the castle, the sea beyond the walls where his powerboat bobbed in the dark.

He had to admire her spirit. He'd backed her into a corner, and still she came out fighting.

He took a step towards her. Her musky scent, heightened by stress, bypassed his brain and shot straight to his groin.

"No, Lady Beaufort. I collect things because they are beautiful."

Closer. Awareness overwhelmed him. He could see every inch of creamy skin, hear every breath that swelled those amazing breasts.

"Because I want them."

Even closer. Silk fluttered against his chest, like a trapped butterfly.

"Because I have to have them."