Page 13 of Forbidden Passion

But she’d fallen into bed with him with barely a second thought. Tonight, Ciara knew that she would have to pay theprice. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from her brother and his adorable wife. They looked so perfect together; Maggie’s dark hair and pale skin were the perfect foil to Ramit’s black hair and darker skin. And they were both so obviously in love that it almost hurt to watch.

Ciara waited until Ramit and Maggie finished with the photographers before she made her own entrance. It was much less dramatic since she refused to allow her name to be announced. Tonight was about Ramit and Maggie. No one needed to even know that she was here. Yes, she had to walk down the stairs into the ballroom. But she wasn’t going to make a big deal about her entrance.

In the past, she’d entered the room on her brother’s arm. But Maggie now took that place and Ciara didn’t give a whit about losing that place of “honor”. It was more of a pain in the neck than any sort of “honor”.

Chapter 12

Falk gripped his glass of champagne so tightly, he was surprised that it didn’t shatter.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Ciara and the way she’d opened herself to him two weeks ago. She’d been so beautiful, so passionate and tender. She’d laughed and they’d talked and made love until she was too sore to continue.

What the hell had happened that last morning? He’d proposed! He’d offered her his hand in marriage and all of the honors that came with the title of his wife and queen! And yet, she’d walked out, without any explanation at all.

Now she came down the stairs, stunning in a shimmering gown of pink and beige, her dark, silky hair piled up on her head so that it bared her neck. Was she taunting him? She had to know that he would be here. He and Zayed were both here!

What the hell was she playing at?

“She’s so lovely,” Zayed commented.

Falk turned, ready to slam his fist into his friend’s face. But Zayed wasn’t looking at Ciara. In fact, he was looking behind him at…? There was no one there!

“Who are you talking about?” Falk demanded, his voice low and furious as he shifted so that he could continue to watch Ciara. She had reached the bottom of the stairs now, waiting with a patient smile as the photographers snapped their pictures. Damn, he knew how annoying that could be. He’d done that ridiculous pause years ago. Now he didn’t have the patience any longer. If a photographer wanted his image, the person had better snap fast.

Grumbling under his breath, Falk turned away from the image of Ciara surrounded by camera flashes.

“Why are you in such a foul mood?” Zayed demanded, draining his glass of scotch.

Falk stared down at his friend’s glass of amber liquid, then at his own delicate crystal flute filled with annoying champagne. “Where did you find something better than this drivel?”

Zayed chuckled. “That’s premium champagne my spoiled friend. There’s probably five hundred dollars’ worth of champagne in that glass.”

Falk’s glare intensified. Finally, Zayed lifted his free hand in the air. “Fine!” he growled. “I’ll show you my secret stash!”

Moments later, Zayed led the way behind the crowd of gawkers who were eagerly watching Ramit and his wife waltz. Zayed pushed through one of the ballroom doors, but the next room was darker. “Where are we?” Falk demanded.

“Just an ante room. I think that the sultans of the past used to use this room for the ladies when the genders weren’t allowed to intermingle.” There was just enough light coming from the large windows that let in the moonlight to navigate the room. Zayed reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Glenlivet scotch. “Be nice. I don’t share with just anyone.”

He poured some of the golden liquid into another crystal glass, and handed it to Falk before refilling his own. “Why have you been in such a foul mood lately? You were like this last week on our conference call too.”

Falk couldn’t admit to his friend what had happened in Switzerland two weeks ago. Standing here in this darkenedroom with the faint sounds of music filtering in through the doors, Falk leaned back against one of the tables. “When are you going to marry Ciara? You’ve been engaged to her for years now.”

Zayed grunted, then dropped into the nearest chair. “We’re not getting married,” he pronounced.

That statement was so unexpected, it took Falk several moments to react.

“Why the hell not?” Falk finally snapped and came around to sit across from him, mimicking his friend’s slouch and extending his legs.

“Because we’re not compatible,” Zayed admitted.

Not compatible? Ciara was every man’s dream! “What the hell are you talking about?” Falk challenged. “I see you and Ciara laughing together all the time.”

He shrugged and took a long sip of his scotch. “We’re just good friends. We’ve both accepted that there’s nothing romantic between us.” He sighed and leaned his head back against the chair. “In the beginning, I thought we could make a relationship work. She thought so as well. We have a lot in common, so we focused on that.”

Falk shifted in the leather chair, leaning forward as he waited for more information. When Zayed simply stared into his glass, Falk thought that he was going to punch his friend. “And now?” he asked impatiently.

Zayed smiled faintly, but there was no amusement in his expression. “Now, we know better.” He took another slug of the scotch. “Besides, I think she’s interested in someone else.”

That caught Falk’s attention and he glared at his friend, despite the gloom of the room. “What the hell are you talking about?”

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