air and the imperious arrogance she had been witness to since she had arrived.
Not that Beatrice was impressed. Why be impressed by an accident of birth? This man had been handed everything on a plate. Beatrice, on the other hand, had worked for everything she had. The way she saw it, the people who had been born to wealth and privilege should be required to prove them selves, not the other way around.
Khalid was the most self-deprecating un -royal person you could ever imagine meeting. The summer she had spent with Emma and him had been half over before Emma had discovered by accident his royal connection. A connection that he had typically played down.
âSorry, if Iâd known who you were Iâd have curtsied.â Which no doubt heâd take as his due. God, the man was everything she detested most wrapped up in one package!
A gorgeous package, admittedly. Her glance drifted as he shrugged off his jacket. The suggestive dark shadowy triangle on his chest, visible beneath the fine white fabric of his shirt, sent an embarrassing rush of heat through her.
âForget the pretence, Miss Devlin.â
Forget the body, Beatrice.
âI am aware of your relationship with my brother.â
She didnât have the faintest idea how the man had got the idea she and Khalid were an itemâEmma would laugh when she shared the jokeâbut it was definitely time she put an end to this farce and got out of here.
âLook, I know Khalidâsure.â She spread her handsin a pacifying gesture and raised her eyes to his. âHeâs a friend, butââ
âMen and women are not friends .â
Beatrice couldnât restrain herself. He clearly thought his opinion on any given subject was definitive. âAnd youâd know all about friendshipâ¦?â
His sensuous mouth curled. âI know all about women,â he corrected.
Now, that, she admitted, was easy to believe. Combating a fresh rush of cheek-burning colour, she tore her gaze from the sensual outline of his lips and pleaded sarcastically, âSpare me the tales of your conquests.â The last thing she needed was any more fuel for the images already playing in her head!
His lips thinned in distaste and he qualified, âI know all about women like you. I know of your ambitions.â
His voice dropped to a menacing purr that did painful things to her sensitive nerve-endings as he leaned forward and added softly, âLet me tell you it is not going to happen, Miss Devlin. You will not trap my brother into marriage.â
âIs that a threat?â Daft question. Of course it was a threat. And Beatrice responded the same way she always did when she came across someone who thought they could intimidate her. She saw red and came out fighting.
âTrap, you saidâ¦?â She pressed a finger to the suggestion of a cleft in her softly rounded chin and pretended to consider the comment. âGet pregnant, you meanâ¦? I actually hadnât thought of that,â she admitted, before throwing back her head and loosing a husky laugh of amusement.
His dark face tautened with anger, the golden skin pulling tight across his prominent cheek bones as his contemptuous eyes locked onto her face. âYou would be wise not to consider such a thing.â
âAnd you would be wise to keep your opinions and your orders and your damned condescending attitude to yourself!â she retorted, rising to her feet and fixing him with a wrathful glare.
âHow dare you speak to me in that way?â
An overload of adrenaline was still pumping through her veins, and his astonished demand made no impact on her.
âDonât you think your brother is old enough to decide who he marries?â She for one pitied the womanâwho would presumably need to gain this manâs approval. âI donât see thereâs much you can do about it.â Except strangle me. And he looked quite capable of doing
Christine Zolendz, Frankie Sutton, Okaycreations