Page 15 of Forbidden Passion

But did he prefer quickies with other women? Had Mayla or Myala, or whatever her name was, just enjoyed the sweet bliss of Falk’s attentions in that other room?

Surely not! There were over three hundred guests in the ballroom! There was only one door separating the guests from whatever had happened in that darkened room.

Dark.Private.

Ciara looked away from Falk only to have her gaze collide with the smug, satisfied expression of the other woman.

The green monster of jealousy clawed at her insides, an unwelcome companion as she plastered on a smile for yet another person greeting her, their words a distant hum as her attention remained fixated on Falk and the other woman weaving through the ballroom. Were they intentionally trying to appear inconspicuous? Falk exuded an air of simmering rage, which Ciara didn’t quite understand.

A harsh reminder echoed through her head: she didn't reallyknowthe man. He owed her nothing, she had no claim to his time. Yet, the rational thought did little to quell the surge of fury when a stunning blonde approached him, flashing a smile and coyly asking him to dance. To her dismay, the bastard took the blonde into his arms and twirled her around the dance floor.

This wasn't the first time she had witnessed him dance, but it was the first occasion she found herself analyzing his moves. A disconcerting thought slithered into her mind—his steps mirrored the way he made love. Precise and passionate, ensuring the woman savored every moment to the fullest. The tension in her chest tightened as she grappled with a mixture of envy, longing, and the bitter acknowledgment that she had no right to stake a claim on him.

“Your Highness?” a soft, cajoling voice inquired.

Ciara blinked, her eyes finally focusing on the British diplomat standing in front of her. “I’m so sorry!” she gasped. “I don’t know where my mind is.”

“I know exactly where your mind is,” a deep voice replied, causing the whole group to chuckle as Zayed looped his arm around her waist.

Ciara was so grateful for his rescue that she leaned against him as inconspicuously as possible. Zayed’s arm tightened around her, giving her the reassurance that she desperately needed just then.

“Would you ladies and gentlemen mind if I stole my betrothed away for a dance? I haven’t gotten a moment with her all evening.”

The group laughed and Ciara wanted to kiss the man. She was so grateful, she smiled more brightly up at him than she normally would.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered into her ear. “A certain man is watching and he won’t understand.”

Ciara looked around, confused. “Who is watching me?”

Zayed swung her into his arms, then guided her in the waltz. “Just smile politely so I won’t get stabbed in my sleep.”

She laughed as she looked around. “Who are you talking about?”

“As if you don’t know?”

She bit her lip, trying to suppress another undignified chuckle. Zayed looked oddly wary, but that was impossible. Zayed was too big, too powerful and, according to the news articles she’d read, too mean for anyone to actually threaten him. Plus, his people loved him. He was a ruler that was truly going to change the world for the better.

“You’re crazy,” she admonished. “Tell me about the new hospital you’re proposing.”

He rolled his eyes, but allowed the conversation to flow towards the hospital. She offered suggestions and he teased her for never relaxing. It was a lovely dance and, when the music faded out, Zayed took her hand and led her back to the corner where he stood sentry for the next hour.

“Watch out,” he whispered into her ear.

Ciara blinked up at him, not sure what he meant. “Watch out?”

“He’s warning you that I’m coming in for a dance,” Falk explained, taking her hand and tugging her towards the dance floor.

Ciara resisted for only a moment. But when it was clear that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, that he was perfectly willing to make a scene, Ciara followed.

Once again, flashes of her miserable nanny prodded her. She tried to tamp them down, but they were too deeply ingrained in her memory. So she stood stiffly in the dance floor, glaring up at him for a long moment.

When he finally pulled her into his arms as the music began again, Ciara couldn’t muffle the gasp of surprise as her breasts pressed against his chest. “You’re holding me too close!” she hissed, pasting on a fake smile.

He pulled her even closer. “If I had my way, you’d be naked and there wouldn’t be any space between us at all,” he growled into her ear.

She tried, and failed, to avoid melting at his comment. However, it was too close to the ideas that had popped into her head as soon as she’d laid eyes on him earlier tonight. Still, she had to resist. The man was too demanding for her. She hadn’t known that before, but he’d shown his true colors after their weekend together. Of course, that was probably something she should have discoveredbeforeshe’d fallen into bed with him!

“Falk! You’re…hurting me!” she lied.

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