could see a flame of powerful intent there, and she felt a vague flutter of unease in her middle. Why was it that he was able to affect her like this?
Those eyes held so much promise. Lana wrenched her gaze away from Malik. She cleared her throat, trying to find the words to mask what she had really been implying. That this was Malik's private domain; that it was the place he brought his women to; the center of his world, away from the traditions of palace life, away from the constraints of family expectation. She tried not to think too much of what Malik might have done in this place; of the many women who might have been grateful for the chance to be brought into his world, possessed and seduced.
Lana frowned and glanced at Malik. She saw that he had noticed the change in her demeanor. "What you think of my life is unimportant," he stated firmly. She knew she had stepped over a line, had invaded a private space.
"You know nothing of how I have lived," he continued.
"We barely know one another," Lana admitted.
Malik's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't go so far as to say we don't know each other. We've had our moments."
He reached out a hand across the table, but Lana moved her own hand closer to herself, curling her fingers around her glass of sparkling water. Malik's gaze flickered down to the table, taking note of her defiant gesture.
"Perhaps, you've had your moments, Malik," Lana said. She glanced around the room. "I'm sure you've had more than your fair share here."
Lana saw Malik frown. He sighed and withdrew his hand. "You seem to have already formed an opinion of me."
"I judge no-one," Lana said, even although she knew that wasn't quite true. She'd already assessed Malik and found enough about him to cause her to be cautious.
"On the contrary. I think you've already passed judgment on me," Malik replied. There was hurt in his voice. She could hear it, and she could see it in the twitch of muscle at the corner of his jaw.
Lana shook her head. "You forget, I'm only a visitor here. I'm just passing through. I'll be gone in a few days. I didn't think it would really matter what I think of you."
Malik leaned his head to one side. "You seemed to think well enough of me last night, on the terrace."
Lana felt her face flush with heat. The memories came flooding back, and she struggled to get control of them. In the same way, she'd struggled to forget Malik's touch when she had fought to go to sleep the previous night. That had been a long night, filled with thoughts of Malik, torturing memories of his touch, his tender attentions.
Lana knew part of the reason she was being so snarky was probably tiredness. But, there was also the possibility that she wasn't sure why Malik had brought her to this place. What was his plan? Because a man like Malik didn't do anything without a plan. Especially when it came to the opposite sex. He'd already taken her on a tour of the club, showing her every part of the establishment, every one of the opulently designed rooms. The pride on his features had been obvious.
So, what was next on his agenda?
"I haven't shown you every room in this place," Malik announced suddenly.
"Really?" Lana replied.
"There is one place I haven't shown you. And, I've arranged for us to share a special meal there."
Lana rolled her eyes and then fixed Malik with a firm look. "What if I'm not hungry?"
Malik's brows furrowed. "And here I was thinking we were just trying to be polite with one another," he said with a sarcastic edge.
Lana smiled in spite of herself. He was right. There was an implicit agreement between them. They had both been forced into this proximity, and there was no sense in making something unpleasant out of it. After all, they did have to think of the happiness of Mia and Rafiq. There was no place for bitterness or conflict. Not when there was a wedding coming up.
"Just what is this special place, as you call it?" Lana asked.
Malik stood, extending a hand toward Lana. "Let