Page 5 of Forbidden Passion

Now that they were alone, Falk looked down into Ciara’s caramel colored eyes. “You need a place to sleep tonight, Ciara. The only other option is a chair here in the lobby and I doubt your bodyguards would appreciate the lack of security.” Her dark, silky hair was pulled back so tightly that he suspected she had a headache from the pressure.

Ciara bit her lower lip, bringing his gaze to that tempting fullness. “I could call my pilot and–”

“No planes are getting out during a blizzard,jamaliu almushakis.”

He knew that the endearment would rattle her, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“I’m not feisty and I’m definitely not ‘your beauty’,” Ciara snapped. She huffed a bit, then looked out through the windows again. “However…,” she paused again, then looked at him in defeat, “I appreciate the offer of a room at your hotel. Thank you very much.”

“Excellent,” Falk replied, relieved and eager to get this woman truly alone. “Let’s get you situated. Then we’ll dine downstairs in the restaurant.”

“I don’t–”

He’d started to turn away, but at her objection, he paused, one hand reaching for her elbow. “We could dine alone in my suite, if you prefer.”

Quickly, she shook her head. “The restaurant is fine.”

Falk led the way through the convention hall and down into the tunnel that connected it to the hotel. “How have you been lately?”

“Fine.”

He barely contained his amusement at her short comeback, a smirk playing on his lips. Her nervous energy puzzled him. Ciara was no shrinking violet—she exuded power, standing tall and exquisitely confident, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. Her dark hair, expertly pulled back, gave her an elegant allure. High cheekbones and full lips painted a picture of a fairy enchantress, but the illusion shattered when he glimpsed her four-inch heels, bringing her tantalizingly close to chin level. The woman was a potent cocktail of beauty and intelligence, wrapped up in a package that left him more intrigued than he cared to admit.

And yet, Falk wondered what she looked like after a raucous round of sex. He’d wager that she would look incredible with her hair falling down and pink cheeks!

“This way,” he said and turned, putting a hand to the small of her back. He felt her slight tremble at his touch and looked at her sharply.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, maneuvering both of them through the crowds. He sensed that she needed some privacy, so he hurried her down the tunnel. There weren’t many people there, thankfully, and it was constructed to look like a beautiful, spring day. The ceiling was decorated with “sunshine” and “clouds”, with lights all the way through for safety.

“I’m fine,” she repeated, but pulled away as they walked. There was more than two feet of space between them. If he’d been less secure, and less observant, he would have thoughtCiara didn’t want him touching her. If that were the case, he would have stepped away and allowed her bodyguards to protect her as he led the way to the private elevator for the penthouse suite.

However, when he glanced at her curiously, she was watching him from under her lashes. And as soon as he caught her gaze, she looked away as the overhead lights revealed her blush.

Damn, she was stunning, he mused. Yet, the way she anxiously distanced herself gave him a moment of hesitation. In the past, he'd entertained the notion that Ciara might share the same magnetic attraction he felt. But now, a seed of doubt sprouted. Had he misjudged her signals? Was he deciphering the situation all wrong?

“Your Highness!” a shrill, feminine voice called out.

Falk turned and swallowed a groan as he saw Myala Rashid rushing towards them. One of his bodyguards stepped forward, ready to intercept the woman. But Falk lifted his hand, indicating that it was okay for the dark haired woman to approach.

She smiled brightly up at him, completely ignoring Ciara. “Your Highness! What a shock to find you here in Switzerland!”

She shifted her body slightly, obviously showing off her slender figure in the tight fitting ski pants and sweater, while coincidentally managing to turn her back on Ciara. “And here, I thought you were back home doing sheiky things!” She giggled as a gaggle of similarly dressed women standing a little ways off watched with avid interest.

Falk wanted to snap at the woman to leave him alone. He was so close to finally having Ciara all to himself. But Myala was the daughter of his top general. He had to be polite.

“Myala, you look well. How is your father?” he asked, gritting his teeth with the effort to not push her out of the way.

“Oh, you know Daddy. He’s back home, drilling the troops and inspecting things, like always. You should know since you direct him to do all of those military drills, right?”

“Your father is a very experienced commander. I’m grateful for his efforts, Myala,” he told her, looking around for an escape.

Myala stepped closer, her voice softening and she reached out, about to touch his chest. “My father isn’t the only one in the family with impressive…talents,” she whispered, shooting him a look that left no doubt about what she meant.

Before Falk could admonish the woman for her impertinence, Ciara got there first.

“Your father’s talents are appreciated. Yours, however, arenot. For goodness sake, read the room!” Ciara snapped in disgust. “Step back!”

Myala’s dark eyes widened and she lifted her hand, like she intended to slap Ciara. But Falk grabbed her wrist before she made such a mistake.

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