Bride Behind The Desert Veil (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Marchetti Dynasty, Book 3) by Abby Green (pride and prejudice read .TXT) 📗

But that wasn’t entirely true. Because with Sharif she was discovering that she had a whole other side to her that she’d never explored before. A side that had been shut down after the experience with her first lover in England. A side that revelled in wearing something so provocative even as it terrified her.

Because she knew it had an incendiary effect on Sharif...

After their visit to the atelier he’d accompanied her back to the apartment, and the evidence of just how provocative he’d found the catsuit had had him growling instructions into his phone to clear his schedule before taking Liyah to his room and making love to her with a hunger that had inflamed her. The after-effects lingered in her blood even now.

But now the world exploded in their faces as the wall of paparazzi caught sight of them and en masse trained their lenses on Liyah, in the glittering sequinned catsuit.

A couple of hours later, Liyah was sleepily curled into Sharif’s side in the back of the car. to her surprise Sharif had deigned to stay for longer than a nanosecond at the club. He’d even—shock, horror—gone onto the dance floor with her. She smiled to herself at the memory.

Her ears were still ringing slightly after the loud music, so she was only half aware that Sharif was talking to someone on the phone. But then her ears pricked up.

‘It worked very well,’ he was saying. ‘Felipe’s reaction alone made it worthwhile attending.’ And then, ‘There are? Already? Send them to me.’

Sharif terminated the conversation.

Liyah sat up. He was looking at his phone and she saw an image of herself. She looked closer, not feeling sleepy any more. ‘Is that me? From tonight?’

Sharif angled the phone towards her. There were a few images of them on the red carpet. And also some grainy ones from inside the club. A rush of hot exposure came back to her as she saw herself straining closer to Sharif on the dance floor, her arms twined around his neck, every point of their bodies touching. She was looking up at him and she looked utterly besotted.

‘The pictures from tonight are already going viral. I think it’s safe to say that the news of the opening of Felipe Sanchez’s new club will fade into insignificance next to the pictures of you in that catsuit.’

‘Who is Felipe Sanchez?’

‘Someone who needs to be monitored. He’s not a threat now, but if unchecked he could become one.’

Liyah felt sick as the evening took on another connotation. ‘So he’s a rival?’

Sharif said, ‘You could describe him as that.’

‘And this evening was about deflecting attention from him,’ Liyah surmised flatly.

She handed back Sharif’s phone and moved away, towards the car door. The rush of betrayal was all too familiar. Along with the sense of exposure. And self-recrimination for having thought for a second that tonight had been some kind of date.

She said, ‘I’m under no illusions that this is a real relationship, but I would appreciate it if you would inform me the next time you’re intending to use me as a pawn in your quest for world domination.’

Sharif felt the bite of his conscience. He heard the hurt in Liyah’s voice. Impossible not to. And the fact that he was so attuned to another human being, probably for the first time since his mother had died, was an uncomfortable sensation.

She said accusingly, ‘That’s my image that’s going to be plastered all over the internet tomorrow.’

‘Your image has already caused quite a stir on the internet,’ Sharif pointed out.

‘Yes, but not while wearing a sequinned zebra print catsuit.’

Sharif felt the distance between them like a physical thing. He didn’t like it. He wanted to reach for her, but knew not to.

‘You look amazing. That’s why you’re currently breaking the internet.’

‘Maybe I don’t want to break the internet.’

Sharif shook his head. ‘You have no idea how stunning you are, do you? Who taught you that you weren’t beautiful?’

He could see Liyah flinch minutely, and he wanted to curl his hand into a fist and punch someone.

‘Tell me again about that guy you were with.’

‘He wasn’t anyone important.’

‘He made you feel insignificant?’

He saw her swallow. When she spoke her voice was husky.

‘He was just a guy at my university. As you can imagine, coming from Taraq, I was less...worldly than most other girls my age. He singled me out—made me feel special. I thought he was attractive, but now I can see that I was confused by the attention he was showing me. I was used to standing out because of my height and my colouring. But he seemed to see beyond that.’

‘What happened?’ Sharif had to curb the violent urge he felt at the thought of such a man uncovering her sensual beauty and not appreciating it.

Liyah shrugged, looked down at her lap. ‘He had a bet with his friends that he could get me into bed after one date. I... I was eager to live a modern life. I wanted to lose my virginity, to feel mature, independent...’ She looked up. ‘He won the bet.’

Sharif emitted a crude Italian swear word in response. He reached for Liyah, unable to resist any longer. She was tense, but she moved closer. She was sinuous under the delicate fabric and he had to curb the urge to rip it from her body there and then. He’d already given in to the storm of lust this bodysuit had unleashed earlier.

‘He was an idiot. And he didn’t deserve the gift you gave him.’

Liyah’s heart hitched. She didn’t doubt Sharif’s sincerity.

She couldn’t believe she’d told him of her humiliation, but the hurt she’d been feeling upon discovering how he’d manipulated and orchestrated this evening was fading into insignificance next to the way he was looking at her right now.

His hands found where her hair was slicked back into the bun and he undid it, letting