Page 202 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

He was man enough to admit that he was a little afraid of taking off the mask; the results would likely be catastrophic. And Val had already made him say too much. His father’s death was public information, but the real reason he worked himself half to death and was determined to break into the Gulf market wasnot.

And with one question and one little flutter of her lashes,ValentinaMontgomery had made him say more than he ever had to anyone else.

It was increasingly difficult not to slip up and call her by her full name.

The car stopped a little distance from Chez Dodo and Val immediately leaped out of the car and began speed-walking toward the club without a backward glance. Desmond’s long legs ate up the distance quickly, but she still managed to enter before he did. When he ducked through the door, navigating the throng of people, he was surprised to see her standing with her arms crossed, just to the right of the stage.

“There she is,” she said in a subdued voice, and nodded, pointing with her chin. It took Desmond a full minute to recognize Hind; the teenager was sitting in the midst of a group of girls who more or less looked like her, chattering nonstop.

“She looks so happy,” Val said, and there was a wobble in her voice that made Desmond draw a little closer to her, despite himself. “I could go over there now, and get her, but…”

“We could give her a bit of time?” Desmond suggested. He steered Val to a benched area with a partial view of the stage. It was clearly designed for intimacy because the moment they sat, it was as if they became ensconced in their own little world, a wood- and leather-sealed sanctuary that smelled of gin and dust and sweat and perfume. Desmond was suddenly very aware of the softness of her thigh, pressed close to his, of that powdery sweetness that lingered on the soft skin of her neck, of the curve of her breasts beneath her tight black dress, of her small waist and full lips.

This was a setting made for closeness, for pressing a warm body against yours and kissing them, deliberate and sweet, until they sighed and softened and melted into you. Normally, Desmond would do exactly this, but not with a woman like Valentina Montgomery.

He reminded himself of that, and sternly.

She was chewing that deliciously full lower lip and when she released it, it was plump and cherry red. Desmond completely gave up any denial of the lust he was feeling. Apparently, he could add sexy librarian to his list of kinks. He cleared his throat. “Are you going to get her?”

Her eyes were still fixed on her charge, and she sighed. “No.”

“No?”

“She…she looks so happy, and she rarely gets to have fun like this. Bahr Al-Dahab isn’t like let’s say, Dubai or Qatar. Beautiful architecture, amazing food and a great educational system, but not much in the way of teenage fun. She can’t get in trouble now because I’m watching her.” She sounded as if she were convincing herself rather than him. She cleared her throat and released her death grip on her handbag. “You’ve been so kind, and you’re so busy. Since I can actually see her now, I can take it from here. I’ll take her home in a cab after the set.”

Desmond raised his brows to their limit. “Surely this isn’t the same woman who reamed me out only a couple of hours ago?”

“I know, Iknow.” Val pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I was…distraught. I apologize. You’ve been very nice about this mess of an evening.”

Ithadbeen an evening, hadn’t it? And one that he otherwise would have spent in his apartment, brooding. Or pacing. Or working feverishly. An evening like this, when they’d been thrust together so unconventionally, could be good two ways, couldn’t it?

An in with Sheikh Rashid, and more time with a beautiful woman, who had his body humming with an anticipation to which it had no right.

“I’ll stay with you, if it’s all right,” he said. “Let me buy you dinner, at least.”

“It’s after ten!”

“A second dinner,” he amended, and laughed. “When was the last time you were out on the town, Miss Montgomery?”

“A very, very long time ago,” she admitted with a rueful smile.

Warmth blossomed in his chest.

“I am a bit hungry,” she admitted.

“Say no more.” Desmond stood and waved the waiter over.

* * *

Perhaps it was seeing the youthful, happy glow on Hind’s beautiful face that did it, or perhaps it was the handsome man at her side, dark eyes boring into her as if he’d discovered something surprisingly precious, but Val found she wasn’t ready to go home. Not at all. And those rules she held so tight to, well her heart was eroding them away piece by piece, with every second of enjoyment.

That strange dark moment in the Champagne Bar was behind them, and shewantedto be pressed improperly close to Desmond Tesfay as the silky strains of Gershwin hung in the air. Shewantedto cut into the perfectly cooked steak in front of her, fragrant with rosemary and glistening with butter and pan juices. Shewantedto feel the smoky burn of fine whiskey on her tongue.

She wanted to laugh, as she hadn’t in months. Years, really. And most of all, she wanted to revel in the fact that Desmond Tesfay’s eyes were devouring her.

When he wasn’t being obnoxious, Desmond Tesfay was as skilled a conversationalist as he was handsome and he drew her out with easy, innocuous questions. How long had she been in the Gulf? Which countries had she worked in? Did she enjoy it? Nothing personal at all, nothing about—thank goodness—dead fathers, or birth names, and nothing she wouldn’t share in any casual conversation.

She felt herself relaxing. Yes, she’d worked in Abu Dhabi, Bahrain, Qatar and now for Sheikh Rashid. She couldn’t name her clients of course, but she’d worked for an ambassador for the UAE, a brother of the Omani sultan, a famous Emirati influencer, a Qatari princess. She understood Gulf Arabic perfectly, but her accent was dreadful, and she spoke fluent French. Her favorite food in the region had to be chickenmandi…

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