Undressed by the Boss (Mills & Boon By Request) by Susan Marsh, Nicola Cleary, Anna Stephens Page A

should trust me.’
    ‘I don’t know you, Raffa.’ Still suffering what felt like terminal heartache, she jerked away. And only succeeded in stumbling on the step.
    But Raffa caught her.
    And slowly drew her close.
    ‘I didn’t do a thing,’ he said.
    ‘I know …’ He was making a habit of that lately. She turned her face away, trying to remain immune to his persuasive warmth.
    ‘Let me look,’ he said, when she winced and tried not to put any weight on her shoeless foot.
    ‘I’m fine.’
    ‘Well, clearly you’re not. Let me see,
habibi.’
    How could he call her sweetheart in Arabic after everything that had happened? This just wasn’t fair. She stared at Raffa’s outstretched hand suspiciously.
    Slowly and reluctantly, she came to him. With the utmost care he bent her knee and lifted her tiny foot to examine it. Fortunately the sharp stone she must have trodden on had done no damage, but he massaged the sole of her foot, where the redness was showing, to ease any remaining discomfort.
    ‘Better now?’ he murmured, looking up.
    ‘Better,’ she admitted softly.
    She sighed involuntarily and looked flustered—torn between believing the worst of him and wanting to be wrong, he guessed. Meantime she was forced to hang on to his shoulders to keep her balance, and he could feel her slender fingers shift slightly—as if she was tempted to explore further, and only her lack of experience married to her pride prevented it.
    Standing up, he sensed the mood change between them; she had softened slightly. ‘May I escort you back to the ballroom?’ he suggested. ‘But first you had better put this on.’ He handed her the discarded shoe.
    She looked at it, and then at him. Any comparisons to Cinderella would cost him dearly, he suspected. She tipped her chin and firmed her jaw. ‘I’d better hurry,’ she said, all business now. ‘I’ve kept the team waiting long enough.’
    He steadied her while she secured the strap on her shoe. He was proud of her, and proud of the team she had led, but there had to be easier women …
    And he did easy now?
    ‘Ready?’ he said, calmly offering her his arm.
    ‘Yes, I’m ready now.’
    He felt the weight of her small hand on his arm as he held the door for her with his free hand. He liked that modest weight. He liked standing with Casey at the entrance to the ballroom until he was certain she had captured everyone’s attention. And he liked the warm feeling inside him because he was so proud of her.
    ‘Aren’t you embarrassed, doing this?’ she whispered as he led her forward.
    ‘Embarrassed to be escorting my record-breaking employee to the stage, where she will receive her well-deserved acclaim? Why should I be embarrassed?’
    He stood back while Casey and her team received everyone’s thanks. They had raised a phenomenal amount of money in the shortest imaginable time, and it pleased him even more to see Casey standing back to urge her colleagues forward. She was more like him than she knew—a thought that under other circumstances might have amused him, but tonight made him regret the fact that very shortly he would have to turn his attention fully to ruling his country and this interlude with Casey Michaels must come to an end.
    But not yet, he thought as she prepared to leave the stage—not now, when she had grown so much in confidence. Because that opened up a whole raft of possibilities.
    ‘Remember you’re leaving with me,’ he murmured discreetly as he escorted her off the stage.
    There might have been an electric charge beneath his hand, and the air was certainly electric between them as he adjusted her shawl. It was the pretty shawl fate had tempted her to bid for that night.
    ‘Or perhaps you’d rather take a cab?’ he said, noticing how she trembled when his breath brushed her neck.
    ‘I’m sure there will be plenty,’ she retorted, staring him steadily in the eyes. ‘Raffa, you have to stop teasing me like this. If I’m going to work in