A Whisper of Disgrace

chapter SIX


A NEW LIFE.

Kulal’s words played repeatedly in Rosa’s mind the following morning as she crammed down the lid of her suitcase. Was it possible to just shrug off your old life and emerge without any traces of it clinging to your skin? She snapped the suitcase closed. All she knew was that she was going to try—she was going to lose her troubled past and step out into a new and unknown future as the sheikh’s bride.

Remembering Kulal’s directive about appropriate attire, she chose a silk chiffon dress the colour of raspberry sorbet and black shoes which made her feel very tall—but she wore no jewellery, not even the ring her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Platinum bright and studded with emeralds, her hand felt strangely bare without it for she was never without it glittering on her little finger. But now it seemed to mock her and the relationship she’d enjoyed with her father. It made her question whether that, too, had been false, like everything else around her.

Had he known? she wondered. Had he realised before his own violent death that the daughter he’d so adored had been the child of the brother he detested? Had he been broken-hearted and careless as a result—dropping a match in that cavernous old warehouse which he and his brother had owned so that they had burned to death, their tortured cries carrying out on the hot, Sicilian breeze?

She was grateful for the loud knock which broke into her troubled thoughts and she opened the door to find Kulal’s driver standing there. Wordlessly, he took her suitcase from her, leaving Rosa to follow him. But her questions about Kulal’s whereabouts were met with a polite shrug. As if he didn’t understand what she was saying—even when she spoke to him in French—and Rosa got the feeling that he understood her very well.

Her feeling of isolation grew as the car headed out towards the airport and she peered out of the window at the upmarket holidaymakers. Against the azure backdrop of the sea, there were women in tiny shorts, big sun hats and even bigger pairs of sunglasses as they hung around the harbour areas, as if waiting for an owner of one of the luxury yachts to pluck them up and sail them away to paradise. She thought how carefree they all looked as they fished around in their giant leather bags. As if they had nothing more taxing on their minds than when their next coat of lipstick needed to be applied. She wondered if they even noticed her—the woman in the expensive limousine being taken to marry a man who was little more than a stranger.

The powerful car slid to a halt at the Nice airport and she was escorted straight out onto one of the airstrips, where a large plane stood waiting on the tarmac. Its gleaming jade-and-rose bodywork reminded her of some oversize exotic bird and a steward wearing matching livery ushered her on board. The light in the cabin was dim and it took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the sight of Kulal reclining on one of the seats, reading through what looked like a pile of official paperwork. He looked utterly relaxed, with his long legs stretched out in front of him and one arm pillowing his ebony head. Reluctantly, she ran her eyes over him in unwilling appraisal, unable to deny the sheer physical perfection of the man.

Did he hear her quiet intake of breath? Was that the reason for his enigmatic smile as his gaze flicked upwards?

‘Don’t look so frightened, Rosa,’ he said softly, his eyes making their own leisurely journey down over the entire length of her body.

‘I’m not frightened,’ she answered, trying to convince herself it was true, even though that lazy scrutiny was making her skin tingle in a very distracting way. She told herself that she’d met enough powerful men in her twenty-three years to make her impervious to them. But she’d never met anyone who had looked at her quite like that before. He had removed his jacket and was wearing dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She could see the crisp sprinkling of hairs on his powerful forearms and, despite his relaxed pose, she was very aware of all the latent strength in his muscular body.

‘Come over here and sit down,’ he said, patting the elongated seat beside him.

She approached with the caution of someone walking towards an unexploded bomb, knowing it would sound naive if she complained that the angle of the seat made it look more like a bed. Yet a couple of days ago she’d wanted more than anything to find herself in bed with him. She wondered what had happened to that new and confident Rosa Corretti, who had looked at this man and decided that she wanted him.

Was it because this morning he was exuding a sex appeal which seemed intimidating and for the first time she realised that he was planning to deliver? That things had moved beyond the hypothetical and sex had become a reality. She was aware that his initial relaxed pose had gone and been replaced by a sudden tension—as if he, too, had suddenly acknowledged the close confinement of the aircraft cabin as the outer doors slammed shut.

She slid into the seat beside him, aware that he was still watching her, his dark eyes seeming to drink in every move she made. She told herself that she mustn’t be intimidated. That she needed to be more like the woman who had pole danced her way into his line of vision, rather than the one whose heart was now beating out a thready tattoo. ‘I hope that what I’m wearing is “appropriate,”‘ she said.

‘Utterly.’ He watched as she smoothed the delicate material of her dress over her bare knees. ‘You will need an entirely new wardrobe to cope with the demands of life as a princess, of course—though I don’t imagine you’ll have much of a problem with that. I’ve yet to meet a woman who doesn’t salivate at the thought of buying new clothes, especially when someone else is picking up the bill.’

Levelly, she met his gaze. ‘Are you going to spend all your time denigrating women?’

‘Not all my time, no.’ His smile was edged with pure danger. ‘I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something more exciting to fill our time.’

‘Because …’ She didn’t want to let this go. She didn’t want him to keep making comparisons—because wouldn’t that just tap into her crippling certainty that she was going to disappoint him? That he had signed up for something and was going to get something completely different. ‘I’m sure your knowledge of women is comprehensive—it’s just a little off-putting if you’re going to keep reminding me of the fact.’

‘I’m sure your knowledge of men is equally comprehensive, Rosa.’

‘You’d be surprised.’

‘I doubt it. I’ve yet to meet a woman who surprises me.’

Rosa gave a little shake of her head. What a cynic he was. Shouldn’t she have tried to hook up with someone softer—and kinder? Someone who wouldn’t have whirled into her life like a very sexy tornado. The plane engines began to flare into life and suddenly she started to laugh—the unexpected sound taking her by surprise because it seemed a long time since she’d laughed at anything.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Everything.’ She looked at him. ‘Within the space of a few short hours I’ve become the kind of person who steps onto a private jet with a man I don’t really know—a man I’m going to marry. I’m going to be a princess and I’m going to live in Paris and I don’t have a clue what my life will be like. It just doesn’t …’ Her voice trailed off as she met his eyes and shrugged. ‘It just doesn’t feel real, that’s all.’

Once again, Kulal saw that fleeting look of vulnerability—the one which didn’t match the sensual lips and hedonist’s body. The one which was making his gut twist with an inexplicable unease. ‘If it’s any consolation, it feels pretty bizarre to me too,’ he said flatly as the irony of the situation hit him—not for the first time.

He should have been contemplating matrimony with a high-born royal from a neighbouring country but instead he found himself with Rosa Corretti, the daughter of a nefarious Sicilian family with a terrifying reputation. One who flaunted her body like a hooker, but who had since denied him all but the briefest kiss.

His mouth twisted into a hard smile. He could feel the exquisite hardening of an erection beneath the fine cloth of his Italian trousers and he shifted his body a little. Why should he have to wait a second longer to enjoy all the sensual possibilities which her beautiful body offered?

From the galley, the steward appeared with a tray and Kulal said something terse in his own language, so that the man set the drinks down on the table and then quickly disappeared.

Rosa saw the way that Kulal’s knuckles had suddenly clenched against the hard outline of his thighs. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

‘Something is very wrong.’ Turning to her, he lifted his hand to touch her face, his finger slowly tracing the outline of her lips. ‘You are driving me crazy, Rosa. I am aching to possess you and I cannot wait much longer.’

Rosa swallowed as he moved his hand downwards so that it was now lying directly over her breast and she wondered if he could feel the wild beat of her heart. His words were so … brazen. He made sex sound so straightforward—as if doing it and wanting it was perfectly natural—but she had no idea how to answer him, because she had been brought up to think that it was wrong and forbidden.

‘You are silent,’ he observed, his fingers now drifting down over her belly before coming at last to rest on her knee. ‘That is good. So often a woman destroys the mood of love with her inane chatter.’

Part of her wanted to scream at him for his arrogance, but no scream came—and how could it, when his hand had now drifted beneath the hem of her dress and she was holding her breath to see what he would do next?

His fingers began to slide upwards and Rosa’s eyes closed as desire began to flicker over her skin—a desire which was powerful enough to obliterate any lingering feelings of guilt. He was drawing little circles just above her knee and, while it was exciting her, it was also frustrating the hell out of her. She began to wish that he would touch her somewhere else—touch her where she was beginning to ache like crazy. And maybe her restless little wriggle told him that, because his fingers had now crept up to reach the bare skin of her thigh. The warmth coiling somewhere deep inside her began to spread over her whole body and she could hear the loud thunder of her heart. Her thighs seemed to be parting without any conscious action on her part, and she expelled a breath of disbelieving pleasure as his fingers brushed intimately against the searing heat of her sex.

‘Mmm,’ was all he said.

‘Kulal,’ she breathed.

Waves of shock and excitement washed over her as he pushed aside the moist panel of her panties and began to move his finger against her aroused flesh and Rosa thought that nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing. She could hear strange, gasping little sounds echoing around the cabin, which she realised must be hers. She could feel the tension as her body strained towards something tantalising which seemed just out of reach. Something which surely promised more than it could ever deliver. And then it happened—almost without warning—like a shower of fireworks exploding unexpectedly in the sky. She found her body contracting with the most exquisite sensations, the force of them taking her by surprise. It felt like flying—and then afterwards it felt like floating down into some dreamy place, all boneless with the pleasure which was still washing over her. She gasped aloud as her head fell back. Her tongue snaked out to touch her mouth and even that made her sensitive lips tremble and for countless minutes she just lay there, drifting in and out of the most incredible daydreams.

‘Unzip me,’ he whispered.

His words broke into her dreamy thoughts and Rosa’s lashes flew open to meet the opaque smoulder in his eyes. But there was no softness in them—nothing but hard-edged desire. Her gaze flickered to his groin and her nerve failed her.

‘I can’t,’ she whispered.

‘Why not?’ He frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’

Rosa bit her lip and felt the sharp indentation of her teeth. A million things were wrong and, stupidly, the one which seemed to bother her most was the fact that he hadn’t even kissed her. She realised that she had just had her first orgasm but Kulal had made it happen with all the cold-bloodedness of a scientist performing an experiment in a laboratory. She might want to learn all about sex but she hadn’t intended her first real lesson to take place on an aircraft, and she certainly didn’t want to be treated like some sort of faceless puppet.

She felt like someone who’d never skated before being put on an ice rink and told to dance. The other night when she’d been drinking, she’d been filled with an unfamiliar bravado as she had flung herself at him. Even the next morning, she’d still been disorientated enough to make an uninhibited pass at him. But now that the moment of truth had arrived, she was scared.

So why not tell him? Why not be upfront with him? Surely even someone as hard-hearted as Kulal might be gentle if he realised the true depth of her inexperience.

She drew in a deep breath and let the words out slowly. ‘I’m a virgin.’

‘Sure. And I’m Peter Pan,’ he murmured, guiding her hand towards his groin.

‘No,’ she said weakly as she snatched her fingers away. ‘I’m serious.’

He drew back from her and she couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face. Surely that wasn’t boredom she could read there?

‘So am I, habeebi, so am I. So why don’t we leave the role play until our appetites have grown a little more jaded? I know the fantasies which turn women on and we can do the “innocent virgin being ravished by the big, bad sheikh” to your heart’s content, but for this first time, shall we just stick to what nature intended and adjourn to the bedroom?’

Rosa stared at him as his harsh words registered themselves in her befuddled brain. He didn’t believe her! He didn’t believe she’d never had sex with a man!

A wave of shame washed over her. Why should he believe her, after the way she’d behaved? He had signed up for a woman who shimmied around in a revealing dress, not an overprotected Sicilian girl who’d never felt the intimate caress of a man’s hands on her body until now. And mightn’t he be disappointed if he knew how naive she was?

Her mind began to race. This was supposed to be a marriage of convenience, for her convenience as much as his, but it wouldn’t be very convenient for him if his new wife was a hopeless novice, would it? Maybe it would be better if he discovered the truth on their wedding night—when it was too late to turn around and tell her he’d changed his mind about marriage?

She tugged her dress back down.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded.

She met his incredulous look, trying to imagine what a more experienced woman might say in such a situation. ‘You’re planning to have sex with me?’

‘What do you think—that I want to discuss the state of the world’s economy?’ He glared at her. ‘Of course I’m planning on having sex with you. Isn’t that what you’ve been practically begging me to do since we first met?’

Rosa pursed her lips together, although she conceded that he did have a point. ‘You want this to be our first time together?’ she questioned. ‘When any number of your crew could walk in and discover us?’

‘I don’t think so,’ he snapped. ‘My crew have strict instructions not to disturb me whenever I have a woman on board. No one will dare to come in.’

Rosa felt sick. Was he setting out to humiliate her, as she had seen men humiliate women so often before? ‘You make a habit of having sex on this plane, do you?’

‘No, Rosa, you’re the first,’ he drawled sarcastically. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think that as your fiancée, I should be shown a little respect.’

‘Having sex with you doesn’t show a lack of respect.’

She shook her head, because how could you shake off a lifetime’s indoctrination in a couple of minutes? ‘And what if I told you that it would make me feel cheap?’

He leaned back and surveyed her, one finger slowly tapping his lip. ‘But acting cheap didn’t particularly bother you when I made you come just a few minutes ago, did it?’ He saw her blush with what looked like intense embarrassment but he did not heed it, his own intense frustration making him want to drive his argument home. ‘Nor did you seem to feel cheap the other night, when you shamelessly flaunted your body at the club for all to see.’

She swallowed. ‘I was drunk.’

‘And do you make a habit of getting drunk? Is this something I should know?’

She met the accusation in his eyes and shook her head. ‘No, I don’t make a habit of it,’ she said quietly. ‘In fact, I’ve never been drunk before that night.’

His gaze grew thoughtful. ‘So something led you to drink from the champagne bottle, like a workman slaking his thirst in the heat of the midday sun? Something which disturbed you enough to behave in a way which you say was uncharacteristic?’

His perception was appealing and Rosa wondered how much to tell him. She’d never been close enough to a man to even think about admitting what was on her mind before, though come to think of it, she hadn’t known real intimacy with anyone. Her relationship with her mother had always been strained—and her two brothers would have run a mile if she’d started talking to them about feelings. They were Corretti men and they did that Corretti thing of buttoning up all their emotions—that was, if they even had any emotions.

Rosa had never known what it was like to speak from the heart, and as she looked into Kulal’s cool black eyes she wondered if she could trust him enough to dare.

Yet what did she have to lose?

‘I had just discovered something about my family,’ she said.

Kulal forced himself to look interested in what she was about to say, even if the last thing he was interested in was talking about her family. But he had learnt much about women during an extensive career spent seducing them, and had discovered that a little patience shown at the beginning paid dividends in the long run. He injected just the right amount of curiosity into his voice. ‘And what might that have been?’

Rosa hesitated, knowing that she risked making her mother sound like some sort of slut if she told him the truth—and that women were inevitably compared to their mothers. But she had to remember that she wasn’t trying to impress him. It didn’t matter what he thought of her, not when her place in his life was so temporary.

Even so, she felt the painful twist of her heart as she said the words out loud and the bitter memories came flooding back. ‘I discovered that my father was not really my father.’

Kulal shrugged. ‘I imagine that must have been disturbing.’

‘Yes, Kulal, it was disturbing,’ she said drily.

‘But you must realise that such a situation as yours is not terribly unusual. Don’t they say that one in twenty-five children in the west are brought up by a man who is not their biological father?’

She blinked, because the last thing she had expected from him was a careless kind of acceptance. ‘How strange that you should know something like that.’

‘Not strange at all.’ He shrugged. ‘I happen to be something of an expert on these matters, since I’ve been the subject of several paternity claims.’

Her eyes opened wide and she felt the sudden anxious beat of her heart. ‘You mean, you’ve got … children?’

He gave a short laugh, because she might as well have asked him if he had ever taken a trip to the moon. ‘No, Rosa, I do not have any children—though one of the downsides to being a sheikh is that women have tried in the past to get themselves impregnated, in order to secure themselves a place in my life.’

Rosa stared at him in horrified fascination. He came out with the most outrageously chauvinistic statements—worse than her own brothers’ at times—and yet somehow he managed to get away with it. Was that because his sophisticated exterior didn’t necessarily reflect the true man underneath?

Because on the surface he might look like a modern playboy, with his sleek designer suit and his private jet, but beneath all the trappings he was nothing short of primitive. He was powerful and wealthy, yet he certainly wasn’t predictable. His matter-of-fact response to her admission about her paternity had surprised her, and had removed some of the emotional sting from its tail—something she hadn’t thought possible. And wasn’t part of her grateful to him for that? Just as she was grateful for the almost effortless way he had just given her an orgasm.

Her cheeks grew pink as she remembered the way she’d let him touch her and the way that had made her feel. She couldn’t carry on feeling daunted by his sexuality, could she? Despite what she suspected was a very selfish nature, he had just proved to be the most generous of lovers. And surely she should be generous back. How difficult could it be to give a man pleasure? Why not get it over with, so that it was out of the way and that she wouldn’t have to dread it any more?

She lifted her hand to his face, letting her fingers slide over his sensual mouth, and even that brief touch felt electric. As she let her hand drift to the unopened neck of his silk shirt, she could see the suspicion which narrowed his eyes and her words of explanation came out in a breathy rush. ‘Maybe I’ve changed my mind,’ she whispered. ‘Maybe we could make love after all—if you say that your staff would be sure to leave us alone.’

There was a split-second pause. A moment when she saw anger and frustration darken his face, before he swiftly removed her hand from his neck.

‘You think you can play with me, as a cat would a mouse?’ he demanded. ‘That I am a man who can be picked up and put down? Are you nothing more than a tease, Rosa?’

‘No!’ she protested. ‘I never meant to tease you. I was nervous, that’s all—but I think I’m over that now.’

‘Well, that’s too bad,’ he responded acidly, shifting his aching body away from her. Maybe it was time he showed her who she was dealing with—that he was not the kind of man to tolerate a spoiled little girl’s sexual games. His smile was cold. ‘It’s not going to happen. At least, not right now. The flight to Paris only takes fifty minutes and I’m afraid we’ve wasted most of them talking.’

Rosa felt her heart clench. Wasted them? When she’d opened up to him like she’d never done to anyone else? When she’d let him touch her body as nobody had ever touched it before. When she’d decided that maybe she could trust him enough to tell him the truth about her parentage, only now it seemed that he was throwing it all back in her face. When would she ever learn that the only person she could really trust was herself?

‘How silly of me,’ she said lightly.

‘Very silly,’ he agreed, though the tremble of her lips made him briefly wonder whether it was worth telling the pilot to circle the plane so that he could indeed seduce her. Wouldn’t ridding himself of this terrible ache make such an indulgent breach worthwhile?

And yet, hadn’t he been partially responsible for this very unsatisfactory turn of events? He had been leaning forward, about to kiss her, when he had been arrested by the look on her face as he had touched her so intimately. He had never seen a reaction so instant nor so rapturous and hadn’t he just watched her with a kind of dazed voyeurism, instead of undressing her and starting to make love to her?

He shifted his body as he decided against a delayed landing. Maybe it was better this way. The fantasies he had been building about his feisty little Sicilian should be enjoyed in slow time—not in some rushed explosion of need in the rather limited confines of an aircraft.

He snapped shut his seat belt and subjected her to a cool stare. ‘In life, I find that timing is everything. Maybe that’s something you should bear in mind for the future, Rosa.’