The Desert Prince / The Playboy's Proposition: The Desert Prince / The Playboy's Proposition

Was that why she’d come? He’d finally invited her into the inner sanctum and she couldn’t resist a chance to walk the glittering floors and fondle the treasures he’d never shown her before.

His eyes were expressionless as his palm pressed against hers, the formal gesture a stark contrast to the intimacy they once shared.

She pulled her hand back, skin humming.

Salim’s stern good looks had always intimidated her as much as they’d attracted her. His tailored suit barely concealed the muscled body she remembered far too well.

“Thank you for coming.” He smiled and gestured for her to take a seat. “As you’ve been told, I’m planning a land reclamation project. I understand that you specialize in sensitive treatment of ecologically challenging sites.”

Celia blinked. Apparently he intended to gloss over the fact that they’d slept together the last time they met.

Focus. “I’ve worked on a number of desert projects, including an oil field in West Texas that I restored to native short grass prairie. I’m experienced with the issues involved and I—”

“Yes. I read your online portfolio.” He turned and strode away from her. His broad shoulders tapered to his slim waist, accentuated by the well-cut suit.

He hadn’t bothered to attend her presentation at the conference where they’d had their steamy tryst. No doubt he had more important things to do.

Silenced by his brusque comment, she scanned her surroundings. Pictureless walls and ornament-free shelves. The only decoration was a gold-sheathed dagger that hung on the wall.

Probably used to pierce his business rivals.

She knew he was capable of utter ruthlessness. He’d cut her adrift without a backward glance.

Twice.

Though, really, she had only herself to blame for letting it happen again. Their college relationship was long over, but she’d fallen back into his bed at the first opportunity like a lemming running for the cliff edge.

“The site is out in the desert.” His deep voice jerked her back to the present.

He walked to the window and stood silhouetted against the bright view of the manicured bay. “My mother’s people owned the land and it was explored and drilled in the 1970s. By the end of the decade it lay exhausted and abandoned and has remained in that condition ever since.”

She steeled herself to ask the question landowners hated most. “Is the land polluted?”

“Probably.” His eyes met hers, cool and dark, devoid of emotion.

Which was fine, because she felt enough for both of them. Sheer terror raced along her nerves at what still hung unspoken between them.

You don’t have to tell him.

Her friends thought she was crazy to come here. They’d begged her to keep her distance and her secret.

Those sharp black eyes fixed on hers again. “I’ll need to take you out to the site.”

“Of course.” She pulled her PDA out of her pocket, trying not to think about being all alone with him, way out in the middle of nowhere. “That would be great. When would you like to go? I’m an early riser and I …”

“Right now.” He rose from the chair as if ready to head for his car.

Not a question. A statement of fact. Apparently Salim Al Mansur was used to issuing orders and he expected her to jump.

“But it’s afternoon. Won’t the desert be awfully hot right now?” Couldn’t she at least unpack and change? She was tired and disoriented. She’d come right here from the airport without even stopping to drop her bags off in her room at the hotel.

Though technically she was in the hotel right now. Salim owned it, part of his string of luxury resorts in the Gulf region. This office was his on-site throne room.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. For the first time the slightest flicker of humor seemed to glimmer in their lightless depths. “The desert is hot. It is in its nature.”

She gulped. “You’re right, of course.” She forced a thin smile. “Might as well face things head-on.”

She blanched.

The elephant in the room lumbered silently.

Had he summoned her here because he’d somehow learned the truth?

Salim strode toward his car. The desire to move—anywhere—surged through his limbs on a wave of thoughts and sensations.

He’d hoped that memories had deceived him, but unfortunately Celia Davidson was even more beautiful than he remembered. Although she’d come straight off a long flight, her skin glowed and her eyes shone blue as the Bahr al-Arab in the afternoon sun.

He dismissed the driver and pulled open the passenger door for Celia. His eyes strayed as she climbed in, and her boxy beige suit couldn’t hide the lithe and shapely body he’d held in his arms.

Some memories were a curse that haunted you through all eternity.

“Buckle your seat belt.” He started the ignition and pulled out of the hotel parking lot, leaving the sparkling oasis he’d created for the grittier and dustier world outside.

Celia belonged to that world, and he’d do well to remember it.

Funny how she still wore her golden hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, like the college student he remembered. She’d never been one to fuss over her appearance and he’d admired that at the time. Now it irked him that she glowed more than women who spent all day preening.

“Is it a long drive?” She stared straight ahead. Avoiding his glance, perhaps.

“That depends on what you’re used to. Here in Oman almost everywhere is a long drive. Have you been to our country before?”

“No, never.”

“You always said you wanted to come.”

He watched as she turned, startled. She hadn’t expected him to bring up the past.

“And I meant it.” Her steady blue gaze stabbed him with accusation. Reminding him she’d expected so much more of him than he’d been able to give. She tore her eyes away with visible effort. “But that was a long time ago.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d be interested in this job.” He shot a sideways glance. “I think I expected you to refuse.”

He watched her neck lengthen. “Because of our history together?”

A moment of weakness had led him to her bed again after all those years apart. He’d been shocked at seeing her in the unfamiliar circumstances of a hoteliers’ conference looking just as she had when they were in college together.

They’d been so young and innocent.

So foolish.