Sharon Kendrick Collection - Sharon Kendrick Mills & Boon e-Book Collections

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never seen him quite this grumpy before, but it occurred to her that if he hadn’t wanted her to come along, then he shouldn’t have asked her. ‘How about fish pie?’ she suggested brightly.

      ‘Fish pie,’ echoed Khalim, as if she’d just proposed a lavish banquet. ‘Do you know—I haven’t eaten fish pie since we were at school. Do you remember, Guy? Always on Fridays.’ And he gave a wistful smile, which briefly softened his hard, proud face.

      How did she do it, wondered Guy distractedly. How had she unerringly hit on the one dish which would produce a rare state of nostalgia in a man who’d very probably been offered every delicacy under the sun?

      ‘Three fish pies,’ he said to the waitress, and Sabrina, who’d been about to order the shepherd’s pie, hastily shut her mouth. It might be considered bad manners to eat meat in front of the Prince.

      It wasn’t the easiest meal she had ever sat through, mainly because Guy would hardly meet her eye, just chatted to Khalim about the paintings he’d seen recently in Paris.

      Khalim listened and ate his meal slowly and with evident pleasure. Occasionally he would turn to Sabrina and fix her with that hard, black stare as he asked her about her work in the bookshop as if it were the single most fascinating subject in the world.

      And Sabrina smiled and tried to look attentive, while miserably ploughing her way through the fish pie.

      After she’d pushed her plate away, Khalim leaned forward, his fingertips brushing against the bright glitter of her necklace.

      ‘Who bought you these diamonds, my beauty?’ he murmured.

      Sabrina smiled. ‘Oh, they’re not real!’

      ‘Really?’ Khalim brushed one of the gems thoughtfully. ‘Then it must be your skin which enhances them—for they look absolutely priceless.’

      What Khalim didn’t know about diamonds could be written on the back of a postage stamp, and Guy watched with increasing fury as the Prince’s dark, elegant fingers contrasted against her milk-white skin.

      ‘Shall we skip pudding?’ he demanded.

      They ordered coffee instead, and Guy was just paying the bill when Khalim lightly placed his hand on Sabrina’s wrist.

      ‘I’m in England for another couple of weeks,’ he mused. ‘Perhaps you would have dinner with me some night?’

      Sabrina looked over at Guy, unsure of how you went about saying to a prince that it was a terribly sweet offer but that she was fast falling in love with someone else, thank you.

      In love? Her cheeks grew hot, and the pounding in her heart increased. What in heaven’s name was she thinking of? She couldn’t be falling in love. She couldn’t. It was too soon after Michael—much too soon.

      She glanced over at the object of her affections, who was chatting to the waitress and giving her the benefit of the sunniest smile she’d seen all evening.

      ‘Sabrina?’ prompted Khalim softly.

      Well, all right, she thought furiously, and smiled back at him. ‘That would be wonderful,’ she agreed shyly.

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      GUY maintained a simmering silence all the way home, even after they’d left Khalim back at his hotel and the chauffeur had dropped them back at the flat.

      In fact, he waited until he’d slammed the front door behind them. He didn’t have many neighbours, it was true, but the ones he did have had known him for years. And would probably have gone into extreme shock if they’d heard Guy Masters yelling at a woman, which was exactly what he felt like doing.

      ‘Are you mad?’ he demanded.

      ‘And are you lacking in any social graces?’ Sabrina returned hotly.

      ‘You spent the whole night simpering up to Khalim!’

      ‘Only because you could hardly bring yourself to say a civil word to me—and I was not simpering!’

      He steadied his breath. Stay calm, he told himself. Stay calm. This wasn’t like him at all. ‘Do you have any idea of that man’s reputation with women?’

      Sabrina met his eyes with dignity. ‘He seemed quite the gentleman—’

      ‘Quite the gentleman?’ he repeated faintly.

      ‘Besides, I thought he was your friend.’

      He heard the rebuke in her voice. ‘He is my friend! He also has a legendary libido. Legendary. I can’t believe that you’d be so naïve, Sabrina.’ And he pictured the two of them together, and the black dagger of jealousy cut into him and sent the words spilling out before he could stop them. ‘You weren’t so naïve when…’ But the words died as soon as he saw the look on her face.

      ‘When what, Guy?’ she asked coldly.

      ‘Nothing.’

      But she wasn’t going to let this one rest. ‘Oh, yes—something,’ she contradicted furiously. ‘Perhaps you think that if I go out with Khalim, I’ll fall straight into bed with him. That he will be able to seduce me with the same ease as you did.’

      He saw the hurt which clouded her ice-blue eyes and his mouth tightened. ‘That’s not what I said.’

      ‘It’s what you meant, though, isn’t it? Well, damn you, Guy Masters, if that’s your opinion of me, then there’s no point me saying any more, is there? You obviously think I’m a tramp!’ And she stalked off down to her bedroom, trembling with rage and distress.

      He watched her go, fighting down the urge to run after her because he knew what the only outcome would be if he confronted her when emotions were running so high. God, he’d barely been able to watch Khalim coming on to her all night. And yet with his jealousy he’d offended her. Deeply.

      But the time for reconciliation would be in the cold, clear light of logical thinking, not now—not when he was aching for her so badly that if he got within touching distance of her he would just want to haul her into his arms and crush his mouth down on hers and…Stifling a groan, he went off to take a much-needed shower.

      Sabrina spent a restless night and woke up remembering the scene of the night before. And Guy’s appalling insinuations. She turned onto her side and gazed sightlessly up at the wall, wondering if those heated words should change things.

      She could leave and go back to Salisbury now. Today, if she really wanted to. Maybe that was what a sane, sensible person would do. The trouble was that she felt neither particularly sane nor particularly sensible. She wanted…

      She turned onto her other side and stared at the exercise bike, which was now positioned underneath the window. What did she want?

      Most of her wanted Guy, with a growing love she hardly dared to acknowledge—but what did Guy want?

      Nothing, it would appear.

      Oh, she suspected that he still felt desire for her—she wasn’t stupid. She had seen that unmistakable darkening of his eyes, the sudden tension of his body when she’d been close to him sometimes. He certainly wasn’t immune to her—but neither did he seem to want to do anything about it.

      She sighed. Perhaps she should just be grateful that he was behaving like such a gentleman. Her mother would be pleased.

      There was a rap on the door, and a voice called out softly, ‘Sabrina? Are you awake?’

      ‘I am now!’ she replied acidly.

      Behind the door, Guy smiled. ‘I’m making breakfast.’

      ‘What do you want—a medal?’

      ‘Just your company.’

      She

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