Page 14 of Forbidden Passion

Zayed shrugged. “I don’t have any real evidence,” he admitted. “All I know is that…” he paused, tilting his head as he considered the idea. “Well, there’s just something about her sometimes. It’s almost as if she’s sad.”

Falk’s gut tightened and he didn’t understand his reaction. He just knew that he hated the idea of Ciara feeling anything other than happiness. “What does she have to be sad about? She’s a brilliant businesswoman and has enough money to do whatever she wants.”

Zayed chuckled. “You know that she gives all of the money she earns from her business to the various charities around the country, right?”

Falk was surprised by that piece of information. “No, I hadn’t heard that part of her business plan.” But he was impressed. Even more impressed than before since he’d done some research and knew exactly how much she charged some of the companies that she advised.

“It’s true.” There was a long moment of silence, then Zayed sighed and drained his glass, standing up. “However, until she and I formally end things between us, I suppose that I should play the happy fiancé and dance with her. She’s definitely beautiful.” He looked out through the windows, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Maybe, I’ll marry her after all. Wouldn’t be the worst idea of my life. And besides, she’s lovely, kind, and intelligent. I could do a whole lot worse.”

With those comments floating in the darkness between them, Zayed walked over to the door and slipped back into the ballroom, unaware of Falk fuming with anger.

“There you are!” a shrill, feminine voice called out.

Falk stifled a groan. Myala! Damn, he’d seen her earlier but had managed to avoid her until now.

Still, Falk reminded himself that Myala’s father was one of his top generals and a brilliant advisor. So he stood up and played nice with the little twit.

“Myala, it’s good to see you.” What a monumental lie!

Myala felt as if the whole world was now bright and sparkly. She’d watched the two powerful leaders sneak out of the ballroom a half hour ago and maneuvered her way through the ballroom so that she was perfectly placed to intercept Falk when he re-entered the festivities. But when Sheik Zayed had left alone, Myala had come up with a better plan!

Walking over to stand directly in front of him, she laid her hands on his chest. “No need to hurry back into the ballroom, Your Highness,” she whispered. “Why don’t you stay here and…relax?” she offered, willing him to accept her unspoken offer. “I’m here. You’re here. Why don’t weenjoyeach other’s company for a while?”

Myala saw the flash of irritation on his handsome features and mentally yelled at the man. Why was he so resistant to the idea of being with her?

“We should return to the ballroom, Myala,” he urged, offering his arm.

She stared at the arm for a long moment, then shrugged. “Fine. If you’re going to be a gentleman about it, then yes, you can escort me.” She purposely pressed her breast against his arm, showing him that she was more than willing. He needed only to say the word.

They moved toward the doorway, but she tugged on his arm, deliberately slowing their pace. "What were you and Sheik Zayed discussing in here?" she inquired, her smile taking on a coquettish tilt. "A secret plot to overthrow your friend's rule here in Ditra?"

His polite expression morphed into horrified fury in an instant. Whirling around, he fixed a fierce glare on her and snapped, "Myala, that's not something I ever want to hear you say, even in jest. Those words are enough to have you thrown in prison. And it would damage a very valuable friendship and ally."

He turned on his heel and stalked from the room, leaving Myala standing in the dark with her mouth agape, shocked by the unexpected harshness of his rebuke. Sheik Falk had never spoken to her like that before. After all, she'd only been teasing him—she could not believe Falk would conspire against his friend's rule.

"Good grief," she muttered, sighing as she glanced down at her classic black satin dress. Paired with a string of pearls, she’d hoped to convey her adaptability for any social occasion. Her gloved hands slid down over her hips, and she patted her hair in a self-soothing gesture.

She turned and chose a different exit, refusing to follow Sheik Falk. It would look odd, and that was something Myala wanted to avoid at all costs.

A mischievous thought crossed her mind. If she appeared a bit disheveled, would he feel compelled to propose in an attempt to salvage her reputation? The notion hung in the air, a tantalizing possibility that made her pause for a moment, contemplating the potential consequences of a strategically tousled appearance.

Probably not. Itim and Ditra were conservative countries, but she doubted that a man as powerful as Sheik Falk would allow himself to be shamed into a marriage that he didn’t want.

Which only meant that Myala needed to show Sheik Falk that he did want her. And not that annoying hussy, Ciara. Princess Bitch! Princess Frigid!

She laughed softly at her amusing names for the bitch that seemed to have stolen her man’s attention. Two weeks ago, Myala had watched as the witch had left the hotel. Alone. The two had been missing from the conference speeches after that first night and everyone was murmuring that the two were alone together.

If that were the case, if the princess bitch was moving in on the man Myala had set her sights on, then something would have to be done. Myala wasn’t one to let an opportunity pass. She had goals and, so far, she’d achieved everything she’d set out to do.

Becoming Queen of Itim was next on her list.

Chapter 13

Ciara watched as Myala, the woman who had approached Falk in Switzerland, stepped back into the ballroom using a different door than the one through which she’d gone through ten minutes before. Moments ago, Falk had come through the same door.

They’d been together in that room for…almost ten minutes.

Ciara thought back to their weekend together. She knew that Falk preferred taking things slowly. Sexually, he would drive her wild, pleasuring her until she was nearly delirious. Only then would he enter her and give her the climax that her body craved.

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