started stuffing them into her file folder.
“I’ve had my housekeeper make dinner. I hope you’re hungry,” he said as he stood up, taking her hand in his and pulling her along.
Zarah tried to pull her hand out of his larger one, but he simply looked down at her and held her more firmly. “Don’t be afraid of me,” he said, those dark, brown eyes watching her carefully, studying her face as if he could see into her soul.
Zarah blushed and relaxed her hand. “I’m not afraid of you,” she lied.
One side of his mouth lifted with amusement. “Of course you are. But I promise not to hurt you.”
Zarah wasn’t sure she wanted that promise. How could he guarantee something like that? He didn’t know anything about her and she suspected there was a secret to his past that could rise up to hurt both of them.
Besides, she only had five and a half more months here before she had to return home. And that was only if her brother didn’t find her first.
He ignored her reluctance and simply tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and covered her fingers with his other hand, leading her down a stone hallway lit with electric wall sconces that Zarah suspected had been lit by torches or candles at one point. “Where are you from?” he asked as he opened an old, wooden door with black iron hinges. It didn’t even creak, which irritated Zarah for some reason.
“I’m from the Middle East,” she said evasively.
He laughed softly as he held a chair out for her beside a pretty, linen covered table set beside one of the windows in a large, plant filled solarium. “I had already guessed that. But which country?”
He sat down opposite her and a servant instantly walked in and placed two plates in front of both of them. There was a delicious salad with crisp greens and what she suspected was goat cheese and a salmon fillet with what looked like a lemon sauce.
“This looks wonderful,” she said and picked up her fork.
“You’re avoiding the question,” he commented. “I wonder why.” He picked up his own fork and sampled the salmon. “Do you have a horrible, dark secret that would be revealed if you told me where you were born?”
She had to laugh because he was exactly on the mark. “Yes. If I dared to tell you anything, you’d know so much about me that you’d run screaming to the hills,” she quipped, tossing his original comment to her right back at him. Her heart warmed when he threw back his head and laughed, his gaze admiring her quit wit.
Unfortunately, her comment probably wasn’t far from the truth. If she told him where she was from, he could do an internet search on the country. Possibly the first hit would be the official government site with the royal family portrait on the front page, and her right in the middle between her older siblings.
She smiled cheekily across the table at him. “So where are you from? And tell me your darkest secrets and then I’ll share mine.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I can’t imagine someone as young and lovely as you having any horrible secrets.”
She shook her head. “And now you’re evading my question.”
“You didn’t ask a question. You offered a proposal.”
“And you’re still avoiding telling me about your past.” She tilted her head as she watched him. “Why are you so mysterious?”
“There’s nothing mysterious about me, I’m afraid. I grew up in this house, my father was the 10 th Duke of Waren and I’m the 11 th . I went through all the appropriate steps through school…”
“Which are?” she asked when he didn’t elaborate.
“Attended the correct schools, horseback riding, golfing, tennis lessons. Anything that an old, aristocratic family should do, my father had me schooled to do.”
“Sounds a like a poor, little rich boy story coming along,” she teased.
When his eyes darkened, she knew that she’d hit a sore spot. “I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “That was cruel of me. I know better than
Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain