Free Dancing With the Dangerous Prince by Elizabeth Lennox Page A

mention her adorable little boy who gave her so much happiness.  Life was good.  And no matter how amazing the sex had been with this man, no matter how shockingly wonderful he had made her feel or how alive and vibrant her life had become for those short weeks she’d been in his company, she would never go back to that world.  She could never let this man back into her life.  She wouldn’t do that to her son or to herself. 
    When she was once again able to breathe, she looked up, almost afraid – maybe afraid that he was here or perhaps that he wasn’t.  Her mind might be adamant that this man was not coming back into her life, but her body was remembering what it was like to be touched by this man.  To be held in his arms.  Good grief, just listening to him had been a turn on because of the deep voice that felt like naughty thoughts sliding over her skin whenever he spoke.  He could be droning on about oil prices or treaties and her whole body would start tingling.  It had been embarrassing the last time they’d been together because he could so easily break down her resistance. 
    Resistance.  That was a laugh, she thought as she slowly turned to find the man through the dim light of the fading afternoon sunlight, praying that it wasn’t really him.  Because she had zero resistance where this man was concerned.  He had powers over her that could make her knees tremble from just a look. 
    “You’re not here,” she said to the image standing in her living room.  “You can’t be here.”
    Zahir watched the woman that had haunted his dreams as she slowly straightened.  She’d lost weight, he noticed.  But she was still as beautiful as he remembered.  And she still had the most powerful effect on his body just by her presence.  He’d never been able to control his body’s response to this woman.  She was like a drug that had become an addiction to him.  A drug he’d had to send away to protect. 
    But it was safe now.  And he was determined to claim his woman. 
    Her words were soft and her full, pink lips rounded in surprise as she confronted him.  Even as he stood there, he couldn’t believe how quickly his body hardened just at the sight of her.  She was truly beautiful with her thick blond hair and her almost golden eyes.  They were actually brown, he remembered, but the golden flecks changed the color, making them appear lighter during certain moods.  Her eyes had always fascinated him and he wanted to pull her into his arms right now, make love to her and bring her back to his country so that he could rediscover all those secret places that had fascinated him five years ago.
    He restrained from his initial instinct, his need to toss her over his shoulder and carry her out of this place.  He had to be careful with her.  She’d been traumatized the last time he’d brought her to his home.  He would have to show her that she could trust him, prove that she would be safe.  As much as he wanted her, in his home and in his bed, proving that she was safe would take time. 
    “I’m here, Callie,” he replied softly, urgently. 
    She shook her head, a few glossy, golden wisps of hair caressing her neck and shoulders.  “No.  You’re not here.”
    Zahir moved closer and she stepped back, forgetting the mess surrounding her feet.  When she stumbled on her purse, he was quick to reach out and catch her but she pushed his hands away, shaking her head and causing those gorgeous tresses to tumble out of the clip that had been holding them on top of her head.  The sunny locks fell down her neck and floated around her shoulders like a golden, silken cloud. 
    “Don’t touch me,” she gasped as she found her footing once again.  “Just get out of my apartment,” she ordered him.  She leaned up against the wall, not sure if her legs would hold her upright much longer. 
    “The war is over,” he told her, needing her to know.  There was so much he had to tell her, but the most