The Royal Elite: Ahsan (Elite, Book 2) Read Free Page B

minutes to adjust to the crowd, to the lies she had to say.
    Before Arturo could reply, he spun around, away from her body, hand falling from her elbow. Sessily realized it wasn't of his own accord when a shadow loomed above their heads, broad shoulders blocking out part of the room.
    Good heavens, it was like a brick wall suddenly appeared out of nowhere. A brick wall with Ahsan's face.
    Spun by the shoulder, Arturo glanced up at the Sheikh at the same time Sessily did.
    “I'm sure you've got more pressing business somewhere else, hm?” Ahsan asked Arturo. His tone suggested it was an order, rather than an option.
    Arturo stammered through a reply, rubbed his shoulder with a hand, then glanced at Sessily before stalking away through the crowd.
    The mild confrontation hadn't drawn the attention of too many eyes, Sessily noted, as she glanced from the departing Arturo to the hulking, taller-than-tall Sheikh. This was her chance, even if she wasn't quite prepared. She lifted her chin a fraction and fought down unexpected shivers being in such close proximity to him. The scent of sandalwood and some other masculine cologne tickled her senses.
    “Thank you. I'm not sure what got into him.” Sessily played it off as a minor irritation rather than an overblown ordeal. She imagined many women might simper and play at injury to eke as much sympathy from Ahsan as possible.
    “You're more than welcome. Did he hurt your arm?” Ahsan grasped her elbow in gentle yet calloused fingers and looked down to examine the flesh.
    Sessily swallowed past the knot in her throat. Why was she suddenly shaking? The feel of his fingers on her skin sent shockwaves up her arm and through her body. “Y...yes. I mean, no, he didn't hurt my arm, but yes, I'm all right. I don't think he meant any real harm.”
    With his whiskered chin tucked, he looked up with just his eyes. Dark eyes, like liquid obsidian. “It's better we don't find out. Only time will tell if you'll have bruises.”
    Sessily regarded her elbow, or rather, his fingers on her skin. The man made it hard to think. “If so, there will be just a few. I think you scared him off for good.”
    He chuckled, a rumbly, raspy sound. “You sound relieved.”
    Sessily smiled. Ahsan wasn't wrong. She was relieved, although her reasons were different than what he imagined. Then she chided herself, remembering the task at hand. She needed to use the 'bruises' to her advantage. She couldn't afford to pass up any opportunity. “Yes. He was nice enough, I suppose, but I don't appreciate being manhandled. I already have plenty of bruises of my own.”
    Ahsan smoothed his fingers along her skin, cupping her elbow in strong yet gentle hands. He arched a questioning brow. “Not another overbearing male?”
    “Oh no. From riding.” She met his eyes again, allowing him to keep hold of her arm. A spark of interest lit his gaze. Good.
    “Did you fall? Or was it from the equipment?” he asked.
    “The equipment. New saddle.” Sessily tipped her chin up another notch. “I don't fall off horses, Mister...”
    “Ahsan. No Mister needed.” He released her elbow and grasped her outstretched hand for a shake.
    Sessily was surprised he didn't tout his position and money. With her hand engulfed in his, she shook as firmly as he did. “Ahsan, then. I'm Sessily. Very nice to meet you.”
    “No princess, or lady, or...?” he asked.
    If he only knew, Sessily thought. She smiled, however, leaving him to guess what her connections were at the gala. Where should she say she was from? And her nonexistent stables? She scrambled mentally to come up with answers. “I'm afraid not. Just Sessily.”
    Ahsan released her hand with apparent reluctance. “Interesting. Is your family in the horse business, then?”
    “As a matter of fact, yes. You speak with curiosity, which makes me wonder if yours is, too.” Sessily led the conversation along, too wary of Ahsan's moods to be pleased that he was still here, talking