Page 9 of The Sheik's Pretend Fiancee
“Thank you for–” she started to say, but he pulled her into his arms, and kissed her soundly.
This kiss was deeper, more desperate than the kiss downstairs. Maybe because they both knew that this might be their last kiss for…a long time.
The ping of the elevator pulled her out of her sensual haze and she pulled back, pressing her fingers against her lips. “I should go,” she muttered.
He nodded, then looked around, obviously frustrated. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.“Give me your number.” It wasn’t a question.
She hesitated for perhaps half a second before she recited her number. He typed it in, then sent a text message before shoving his phone into his pocket. “Now you have mine. Text me.”
And then he turned, his long legs eating up the distance as he returned to the elevators.
Angela watched, fascinated by the play of muscles along his back and shoulders when he reached out to press the call button. He was certainly buff enough. He stepped into the elevator and turned, his eyes capturing hers for a long, heated moment before the doors closed.
For a moment, Angela admonished herself for blatantly staring at him. But then she shrugged and sighed. Turning, she slipped into her suite. Last night, she’d escaped her bodyguards through the servants’ entrance. But now, she walked in through the entryway of the suite, heading for her bedroom. She was going to shower and get dressed for her flight home, but Angela couldn’t seem to keep the dreamy smile from her face.
Until an involuntary scream rent the air!
Chapter 6
Police milled through the suite as two detectives sat across from Angela, their notebooks in hand as they asked questions. “You say you weren’t in the suite,” one of them began. “And yet, the body was found right outside your bedroom door with the sharp end of your comb stuck in his chest. Can you explain how that happened?”
Angela blinked, her arms crossed protectively over her chest as she tried to focus on the increasingly ridiculous questions.
“I…uh…was…!”She trailed off in distraction as two strangers wheeled the body, wrapped in a thick, plastic bag, out of the room. There was a long moment of silence from everyone as “the deceased” was taken away.
When the two men and the gurney were gone, everyone left seemed to breathe a sigh. Not one of relief. Someone had been murdered in the suite and none of the bodyguards had noticed. Which made sense to her, Angela thought. But probably not to the detectives.
With an inward sigh, she turned back to the detectives, who were waiting patiently for her explanation.
“I suffer from insomnia, Detectives,” she started off. “My guards know this. I’ve struggled to sleep since I was about seventeen.”
“Did something happen to you at that time?” one of them asked.
She hugged her arms more closely around herself as she shook her head. “No. Nothing of significance.”Angela smiled weakly. “I just…stopped sleeping through the night for some reason.” She ignored theknowing glance between the two detectives. Yeah, a lot of people had the impression that being a royal meant that one’s life had no problems. It wasn’t true, but there was no point in trying to convince these two that life could be difficult no matter what one’s socioeconomic status. “So last night, I couldn’t sleep and I decided to work downstairs.”
“Why didn’t you just work here in the suite?” the second detective probed, looking around. “There’s a lot of space here. How many bedrooms are there?”
She shrugged. “I think there are four bedrooms, plus a primary suite, which is where I sleep.”
“What’s wrong with working right here, on this couch?”
Angela rubbed her forehead, trying to alleviate the pressure that was building into a headache. “The couch is very nice. But I worked in here all day yesterday.”
One of the men wrote down that tidbit of information while the other continued questioning her. “What do you do?”
She eyed the second detective, trying to hide her growing irritation since she’d already explained her role within the Lativa government. “I am acting as Ambassador to France from my country while the current ambassador recovers from surgery. My role isn’t a secret, Detectives. I travel all over the world, acting as a temporary ambassador to various countries for Lativa.You can look up my role in the government to get a better understanding.” Why were they asking her this? It’s public information! Good grief, she’d been in the news repeatedly as she’d explained the new trade agreements or to hype up a country’s assets in exchange for some type of diplomatic plug. She’d even been on the cover of a leading fashion magazine, touting the new role women were playing in the Lativa diplomatic corps.
Did these men live in caves?
Fighting to calming her temper, she dug deep to find that well of diplomatic expertise that helped her deal with men who didn’t think that women had any place in diplomacy. Straightening her shoulders, she looked at each in turn, feeling the calm wash over her.
“Detectives, I didn’t kill that man. In fact, I don’t even know who he is. You haven’t told me his identity.”
“But the pointed end ofyourcomb is sticking out of his chest.”
She clasped her hands together, trying not to smack her forehead. “Valid point,” she replied, tilting her head in acknowledgement. “However, I don’t–”
“Why do you have a comb that can be used as a weapon anyway?”
