Free The Sheikh's Undoing by Sharon Kendrick Page B

bearing a tiny cup of inky coffee which she deposited in front of him with a smile. Not the kind of smile he would have expected, in the circumstances. It was not tinged with longing, nor was it edged with a frustration similar to the one he was experiencing. No, it was a bright and infuriatingly sunny smile—a sort of pre-weekend kind of smile. As if she had forgotten all about those passion-fuelled moments back in her country cottage.
    Had she?
    ‘You aren’t changing?’ she questioned.
    Tariq blinked at her, her question arrowing into the confusing swirl of his thoughts. ‘Changing?’ he growled. ‘What’s wrong with the way I am?’
    Isobel felt her heart hammer in response. Oh, but he was edgy this evening! Even edgier than he’d been all week. Mind you, she’d been feeling similarly jumpy—just determined not to show it. Her pride had been shattered by his rejection, and she was determined to salvage what was left of it by maintaining a cool air of composure. But it was difficult trying to pretend that nothing had happened when your boss had fondled your naked breasts and part of you was longing for him to do it all over again.
    She tipped her head to one side and pretended to consider his question. ‘How long have you got?’
    ‘Izzy—’
    ‘I meant
changing
in a literal sense,’ she clarified, with a quick glance at her watch. ‘Aren’t you due for a party at the Maraban Embassy at seven? And don’t you usually wear something dark and tailored instead of … ?’ Her bravado suddenly evaporated, her voice tailing off as she was momentarily distracted by his physical presence.
Why
had she allowed her eyes to linger on his physique, when she had determinedly been avoiding it all week?
    ‘Instead of what, Izzy?’ he questioned silkily, for he had noticed the sudden. rapid blinking of her eyes.
    ‘Instead of …’ She realised that he must have removed his tie at some point during the afternoon, and loosened at least two buttons of his shirt. Because rather more of his chest was on show than usual—and it reminded her of his warm, bare flesh beneath her fingertips on the floor of her cottage.
    She could see the lush, dark whorls of hair growing there—which added texture to the olive glow of his skin and invited the eye on an inevitable path downwards …
    Keep your mind on the job
, she urged herself fiercely.
You’re not supposed to be lusting after him—remember?
    ‘It’s … it’s a formal event, isn’t it?’ she finished helplessly.
    Tariq felt a brief moment of triumph as he saw her eyes darken. So she was
not
completely immune to him—despite the way she’d been behaving all week. His mouth hardened with grudging respect—for Izzy had shown herself to be made of sterner stuff than he would have thought. Since they’d been back in the office she had treated him with exactly the same blend of roguish yet respectful attitude as she’d done all through their professional relationship. As if his being moments away from penetrating her body had left her completely cold. So was that true? Or was it all some kind of act?
    He let his eyes drift over her, wondering if she had decided to showcase the dullest items in her wardrobe. Maybe he’d seen that skirt before—and her pale sweater certainly wasn’t new—but she looked dowdier than hecould ever remember. Was that deliberate? Or was it because now he knew more about her he was looking at her more closely? Comparing how she looked now to how she’d looked when she had been writhing around beneath him? And he couldn’t rid himself of the unsettling knowledge of the magnificent rose-tipped and creamy breasts which lay beneath her insipid armour.
    ‘Yes, it’s a formal event,’ he drawled. ‘And, to be truthful, I don’t feel like going.’
    ‘But you have to go, Tariq.’
    ‘Have to?’ He raised his brows. ‘Is that an order?’
    ‘No, of course it isn’t.’
    He began to walk towards her, noticing the tip of her tongue as