Arni was a man who prided himself on his self-control. It was that control that ensured he would never repeat his father’s folly in allowing his desire for an unworthy and avaricious woman to rule and humiliate him. Arni could give in to his physical desires, but he must always be the one in control, not the other way around.No woman had ever been allowed to intrude into his thoughts when he did not want her to, and yet now here he was, wasting his valuable mental energy thinking about a woman he despised. The mere fact that she was there in his thoughts, occupying space that rightly belonged to far more important matters, angered him far more than the unsatisfied ache of the desire she had left him with.Why was he bothering to think about her? She’d probably thought she was being extremely clever, that by offering and then withdrawing she would get far more from him than if she had simply gone to bed with him there and then, but Arni did not allow anyone to manipulate him to their o

The slate-grey gaze flicked over her and rested expressionlessly on her face. He must have recognized her even if he wasn’t showing it.Karan stepped forward to shake the other man’s hand, saying to him jovially, "Arni." I’ve brought you Orla, just as I promised. She’s desperate for you to give her this contract so that she can show you what she can do. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed by what she can offer.’Orla squirmed inwardly over Karan's unfortunate choice of words and all that might be read into them by a cynical, sexually experienced man who had every reason to believe he already knew what she had to offer."I can’t stay," Karan was continuing. I’ve got a meeting I have to attend, so I’m going to have to leave you to discuss things without me. However, as I’ve already told you, I’ve seen Orla’s work, and she has my personal recommendation and endorsement.’He had gone before she could stop him and tell him that she had changed her mind. That she wouldn’t want this contrac

After university, Orla moved to London and found a job working for an upmarket interior design company at a very junior level.Through Dayita and Nakul, she’d been familiar with the ethnically diverse Brick Lane area of the city, and she had quickly fallen in love with the creative intensity it had to offer, putting what she’d learned from it into her own work and adapting it to her own personal style.Soon, word had begun to get around that she had a sympathetic understanding of Indian taste, and rich Indians had started to ask specifically if she could be part of the team working on their interiors.With the encouragement of her boss, Orla had eventually struck out on her own, finding for herself a niche market that was fresh and vibrant and matched her own feelings about design and style.She’d met Karan through Nakul, and had let him sweet-talk her into doing some room schemes for the rundown properties he was doing up as buy-to-let. Karan had done well, and an uncle in India had

Well, of course he would, seeing as the Maharaja was his brother. He himself was every bit the royal prince, all arrogance and aristocratic pride. No doubt he was used to having his way whenever he wanted it and however he wanted it, with women as well as in business. Well, he wasn’t going to have his way with her!"I can’t remember, Your Royal Highness," Orla lied again, not wanting to get Karan into trouble. Normally, she would have admired both the Maharaja and Arni's stance, but on this occasion, she was all too aware of how difficult it would be to put as much distance as possible between Arni and herself.The look he was giving her was openly contemptuous as well as grimly angry.It is not necessary for you to address me in such a manner. Since I have chosen not to play a role that requires me to use my title, I see no reason why I should be addressed by it.’He had surprised her—but why should that bother her? She wasn’t afraid of him, was she? She wasn’t afraid that somehow sh

All he was doing was steadying her. She knew that. But to her body, his hold was dangerously reminiscent of the way he had held her when he had kissed her, and she had to fight down its instinctive urge to close the gap between them. If he kissed her right now, he'd taste of salt, heat, and male hormones.It must be the shock of her unwanted sexual response to him that was responsible for the feeling that somehow time had slowed down, and with it the beat of her own heart, as though both of them were caught up in some kind of mystical spell, Orla thought dizzily. She could see where the shadow was just beginning to darken the line of Arni’s jaw, and she had an overwhelming longing to reach out and touch it with her fingertips, and then to trace the curve of his mouth. The sensuality of the contrast between them would, she knew, be burned into her touch in a way that would make her ache to feel that contrast against her own flesh. It would be so easy to do, so very easy.He knew what s