Free Defying her Desert Duty by Annie West Page A

possible at a time?’
    Soraya found herself smiling ruefully into eyes that had lost their hard edge and crinkled appealingly at the corners. That hint of amusement eased the hard lines of Zahir’s face, making him more relaxed, not the stern figure of the last few days.
    She’d thought him in his mid-thirties. Now she reassessed. He was younger than she’d assumed.
    ‘It takes the gloss off his “man of the arts” image, doesn’t it? But he was working on what people wanted.’
    ‘You could say that about nuclear weapons.’
    ‘True. It’s the age-old issue, isn’t it? What people do with what scientists invent.’
    ‘That’s what interests you? Science?’ His eyes widened a fraction.
    ‘Careful, Zahir. You’re not in danger of typecasting me because I’m female, are you?’ She’d come up against enough raised eyebrows in Bakhara for her supposedly unconventional interests. Inevitably she felt disappointment stir. ‘Women aren’t all interested in the same things. We’re as varied as men.’
    ‘So I’m learning.’
    Soraya raised her eyebrows. Her guess was he expected women to focus on luxury and be dependent on men to make the decisions. No wonder they had been at loggerheads.
    ‘If you weren’t so interested in art history, why were you concerned to finish your project before you left?’
    She sat back in her chair, surveying him carefully. ‘You are sharp, aren’t you?’
    ‘I could say the same about you.’ This time she caught it—a tiny flash of appreciation in his eyes. She felt an answering flicker of pleasure. ‘Are you going to tell me what you were doing or is it a secret?’
    ‘No secret. I just took more than one class.’
    He said nothing, simply put down his cup and waited, as if he had all the time in the world and nothing more important to do than listen. Yet that stiff, judgemental attitude was missing. What had changed?
    ‘Not really a class, actually. A job.’
    ‘You
worked
?’
    She couldn’t help it. A gurgle of laughter escaped at his astonished expression. ‘Is that so hard to believe?’ She held up her hand. ‘No, don’t answer. I can guess—you thought I pretended to study but secretly majored in shopping.’
    A twist of his lips told her she was on the right track. Despite her amusement, annoyance stirred.
    ‘I’m rather fond of shopping, actually. Paris is a real treat for that—everything from haute couture to street markets.’
    Soraya looked down at her shoes, but instead of remembering her thrill at getting such a bargain it was a different thrill entirely that rippled through her. Had she imagined the heat in Zahir’s stare? He’d made her feel
sexy
with that casual reference to her footwear.
    Her skin tingled and her blood throbbed with that weird, unfamiliar blast of heat. Unfamiliar till three days ago, that was. Till Zahir had singled her out in that bar.
    She lifted her head.
    ‘That night in the bar. Why did you stare at me like that?’
    Zahir read the curiosity in her gaze and knew he’d seriously underestimated her. She had a sharp intellect as well as a strong streak of independence—characteristics he admired.
    Yet he hadn’t wanted to like her since the moment he’d seen her with another man. Had he let that blind him to other aspects of her character? Had he rushed to judgement?
    ‘I was assessing the situation. You wouldn’t have liked me interrupting your night out.’
    Her head tilted to one side. Her brow wrinkled and her mouth pouted in a moue of concentration.
    Zahir’s breathing shallowed as he stared at those lush lips. He dragged his gaze to her dark eyes.
    ‘No, that’s not right.’ She shook her head. ‘You had no compunction about interrupting my night out. Once you decided to make your move, that was it.’
    If he’d decided to ‘make his move’, that night would have ended very differently.
    The thought exploded out of nowhere as he imagined doing what he’d been tempted to do on the dance floor—not