When Blaize’s eyebrows rose, Petra explained defensively, ‘It seems that he doesn’t merely have a large financial interest in it, but that he helped design it as well. According to my aunt, he’s a trained architect.’
Petra wondered uncomfortably if Blaize could hear the slight breathlessness in her voice. If so she hoped he would assume it was because she was impressed by her would-be suitor’s academic qualifications rather than by the sight of Blaize’s own muscles!
‘When is he to show you around?’
Petra shrugged her shoulders.
‘I don’t know. According to my aunt, Rashid the Sheikh has been called away on business.’
‘And you are no doubt hoping that by the time he returns enough damage will have been done to your reputation to have him questioning your suitability to be his wife? Well, if that is to be achieved we should not waste any time,’ Blaize told her, without waiting for her response. ‘Tonight everyone who is anyone on the Zuran social scene will be out and about, looking to see and be seen, and the current in place for that is a restaurant here on this complex called The Venue. It has a Michelin-starred chef and boasts a separate music room where diners can dance. I think that you and I should make our first public appearance there tonight. Dress is formal, and there is a strict admissions policy, but as a guest of the hotel and a woman that won’t be a problem for you!’
‘It sounds expensive,’ Petra told him doubtfully.
‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘But surely that isn’t a problem? You did tell me that you are staying here at your family’s request, and as their guest, and since the cost of dining in the restaurant can be debited to your room—’
‘No! I couldn’t possibly do that,’ Petra denied immediately, unable to conceal either her distaste or her shock. But far from being contrite, Blaize merely looked amused.
‘Why ever not? You have to eat, don’t you?’
‘I have to eat, yes,’ Petra acknowledged. ‘But I can’t possibly expect my family to pay for…’
As she paused, struggling to find the right words to express her feelings, Blaize shrugged and told her bluntly, ‘Either you were serious about this plan of yours or it was just a childish impulse that you’re now regretting. In which case, you’re wasting my time as well as your own—’
‘I am serious,’ Petra interrupted him quickly.
‘Very well, then. We eat late here, so I shall meet you downstairs in the foyer at nine-thirty—unless of course you want me to come up to your room to collect you a little earlier, which would give us time to…’
‘No,’ Petra said firmly, her face burning as she saw the amused look he was giving her.
‘How very much the epitome of a nervous virgin you look and sound right now! Are you one?’
Her face burning even hotter, Petra told him fiercely, ‘You have no right to ask me that kind of question.’
Laughing softly, Blaize shook his head. ‘Who would have thought it? Now you have surprised me! A nervous virgin who wants to be considered openly sexually available. You really don’t want this marriage, do you?’
‘I’ve just told you I am not prepared to discuss my…my personal private life with you…’
‘Even though you expect me to publicly convince others that I am very much a part of that personal private life…very, very much a part of it?’ he said softly.
There was a look in his eyes that was making Petra’s insides quiver with tension and indignation. How dared he make fun of her? It occurred to her that somehow or other he had managed to turn their relationship around so that he was the one who was in control of what was happening rather than her. A presentiment shiver brushed over her skin, warning her that she might be in danger of getting herself involved in a situation that she ultimately could not control. But before she could analyse her fears properly the doorbell to her suite suddenly rang, the shrilling sound activating her inner alarm system and throwing her body into immediate anxiety.
‘It’s okay,’ Blaize informed her easily. ‘That will be Room Service. I ordered something to eat.’
‘You ordered…’ Petra stared at him, and then looked frantically towards the suite door as the bell rang again. ‘You can’t—’ she began, and then stopped, pink-cheeked, as she realised Blaize was laughing softly at her.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘I think that this is going to be fun. Have you any idea how tempting it is to really shock you, little Miss Prim?’
Still laughing, he leaned forward and cupped her face with his hand, brushing her unsuspecting mouth with his own before releasing her and disappearing into the bathroom just before the suite door opened and the meal he had ordered was brought in.
‘Panic over?’
Automatically Petra looked towards Blaize as he emerged from the bathroom, still wearing merely the towel, with an electric razor in one hand whilst he smoothed the skin of his newly shaved jaw with the other. Then she quickly looked away as her heart did a triple-flip before losing its balance and slamming heavily into her chest wall.
What on earth was the matter with her? So he was having a shave. So what?
So what? The voice of moral female indignation inside her retorted angrily; what he was doing was an act of deliberate male intimacy…shaving in her suite…in her bathroom…
‘Mmm. I could get used to this,’ he told her appreciatively as he studied the well-laden trolley. ‘Pour me a cup of coffee, would you?’ he called out to her as he turned back towards the bathroom. ‘Black and strong, no sugar.’
Pour him a coffee! Who on earth did he think he was?
‘Oh, by the way,’ he told her, pausing as he reached the bathroom door. ‘I’ve already booked us a table at The Venue for tonight, and told them to bill it to your room. We were lucky. They were virtually fully booked. Are you sure you don’t feel like short-circuiting things? I could move in here and…’
‘No!’
Petra’s denial was an explosive sound of outrage and panic, but far from shaming him it just seemed to add to her tormentor’s amusement.
Relaxing against the open doorway, he told her wickedly, ‘You know, I think I could really enjoy making this seduction the real thing, if you want me to.’
‘No.’ This time her denial was even more vehement, her eyes huge and storm-lashed as she added in a strangled voice, ‘Never.’
‘Ah, yes! I forgot that you’re saving yourself for the man of your dreams! Well, take care he doesn’t turn into a nightmare…Is that my coffee?’ he added easily, coming to rescue the cup that she was in danger of overfilling.
Furious with herself for her automatic response to his original request, Petra snatched the cup back from him.
‘No, it isn’t’ she denied. ‘It’s mine. You can pour your own.’
Unperturbed, he shrugged and reached for the coffee pot, leaving Petra to digest her hollow victory along with the bitterly strong coffee she had claimed.
Broodingly she watched as Blaize tucked into the meal he had ordered with obvious relish. This wasn’t what she had envisaged when she had initially approached him. What she had had in mind was an open and obvious flirtation on the beach, perhaps a couple of very public outings and maybe a meal together thrown in.
‘Come and sit down and have something to eat. I ordered enough for both of us,’ Blaize told her.
‘So I see,’ Petra agreed waspishly.
There