A Diamond For The Sheikh's Mistress. Эбби Грин

picked up her mobile from the table near the bed before she lost her nerve, focusing on anything but the terror she felt at the thought of what she was about to do. And how it would affect her life.

      This wasn’t just about her. Not when she now knew she could put that money to good use. Vital use.

      Zafir had made it clear that he would walk away, and if Kat knew anything about him it was that he meant what he said. He was a proud man. He wouldn’t ask again and he certainly wouldn’t beg.

      As Kat dialled her friend’s number and waited for her to answer, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror again. She scowled at her flushed face and the too-bright eyes that whispered that her decision had a lot less to do with altruism and more to do with something much darker and far more ambiguous deep inside her.

      And then Julie answered and Kat had a split second to decide whether to take a step into a dangerous future or remain safe in the past.

       CHAPTER THREE

      ZAFIR STOOD AT the window of his penthouse study and looked out over Manhattan, sparkling under the autumn sun, with Central Park in the distance. He was trying not to acknowledge the sense of triumph and satisfaction rushing through his blood, but it was hard.

      Along with it, though, had come something far more contradictory—a kind of disappointment—and Zafir realised that it was because when he’d walked away from Kat last night she’d seemed so resolute. And, as much as it had irritated him intensely, he’d admired it on some level. It was rare to find anyone going against him in anything—especially since he’d become King.

      He recalled getting into his car last night and how stunned he’d been that she’d turned him down. And then how he’d had to physically restrain himself from instructing his driver to turn around so that he could go back to Kat’s apartment and shatter that cooler than cool reception by reminding her in a very explicit way of just how good it had been between them. How good it could be again.

      And yet before 8:00 a.m. this morning his personal phone had rung and it had been her agent, confirming that Kat had decided to take on the assignment after all.

      At this very moment she was with her agent and his legal advisors, signing the contract, and then she was due to spend the rest of the day and tomorrow in preparation for the tour with a team of stylists. Rahul would go through the itinerary with her and make sure her passport and travel documents were in order for when they left the United States.

      So her cold stonewalling and reluctance last night had been an act. Much like the act she’d fooled everyone with when he’d first met her, projecting a false persona of someone who was honest and hard-working, making the most of the opportunities presented to her.

      She’d been honest, at least, about coming from a poor background—which in Zafir’s eyes had only made her more commendable. She’d epitomised the American dream of grit and ambition and achieving success no matter what your circumstances were.