Yet surely she wasn’t the only one to see him for what he was: self-contained, dangerous and definitely not ready for domestication. Impatience at his all-conquering attitude blindsided her.

‘Surprisingly enough, I am.’ To her amazement Leila heard the rapier-sharp provocation in her tone. His expression told her he heard it too.

After years guarding every word, how could she trip herself up now? Where was her hard-won composure? Even Gamil at his worst couldn’t provoke an outburst these days. It was vital she play to the Australian’s expectations if the marriage was to go ahead.

‘So what did you envisage, Leila?’ His voice dropped half an octave, slowing on her name. He rolled it around his mouth, almost as if savouring it.

Fine hairs rose on her arms and nape. No man had ever said her name like that. A challenge and an invitation at the same time.

Heat flushed her throat as she realised she’d stepped into perilous waters. He didn’t threaten like Gamil, but she sensed danger in his sultry invitation. Not the danger of physical punishment but of something more insidious.

Her lack of experience with men told against her now.

She blinked. Gamil was no doubt hidden beyond the doorway, sifting each word, ready to mete out punishment for errors.

The laugh had been a mistake. She’d read it in Joss’s surprise. Yet she couldn’t regret it. He deserved to be shocked from his insufferable self-satisfaction, even if her stepfather made her pay later.

‘I thought you were interested in my inheritance, not me personally.’ She kept her tone even, holding his gaze, refusing to reveal how much hinged on his response.

After a moment he nodded brusquely. ‘I’m not after an heir and I have no interest in playing happy families.’

At least he didn’t expect intimacy. Relief swelled.

She’d wondered whether, when it came down to it, she would be able to sell herself into an intimate relationship in order to escape. Had wondered too about the logistics of disappearing as soon as they were married to avoid giving herself physically to a man she didn’t want. Now it seemed she wouldn’t have to.

This was pure business. He’d gain the oil reserves, while Gamil gained income and status through his new son-in-law.

She was supposed to be thrilled by Joss Carmody’s offer of matrimony. Though come to think of it there’d been no offer. It had been a deal done between power-hungry men.

She squashed instinctive outrage as a luxury she couldn’t afford.

‘I don’t want a wife who will cling or make demands.’

‘Of course not.’ She couldn’t imagine him accepting emotional ties. Nor did she want any.

‘So tell me, Leila—’ he leaned closer, his voice a deep thread of sound that shivered across her flesh ‘—why do you want to marry me?’

Her brain froze as she watched those firmly sculpted lips shaping her name, feeling again that tremulous shock of disturbance deep inside.

Then she breathed deeply, her mind clicking into gear, considering and discarding possibilities.

Tell him what he expects to hear and seal the deal.

‘For what you can give me.’ His almost-imperceptible nod confirmed she was on the right track, feeding him the response he expected. ‘To see the world and live the life of a billionaire’s wife. Bakhara is my homeland but it’s rather…confining.’ Wry laughter threatened at the understatement and she bit her cheek, using pain to counter weakness. It was a trick Gamil, if only he’d known it, had inadvertently taught her over the years, with his regime of punishments for imagined infringements. ‘Married to you my life will change for ever.’

Dark eyes surveyed her so closely she saw the exact moment he made up his mind. His lips pursed and his eyes gleamed approvingly.

Joss Carmody knew what he wanted. A wife who wouldn’t clutter his life. A woman who’d marry him for his wealth and prestige. A woman who would shop and amuse herself while he got on with what interested him: making even more billions of dollars. Money drove him. Nothing else.

What would he do if he realised he meant just one thing to her?

Escape.

‘He’s late!’ Gamil paced the courtyard, his heavy tread careless of the exquisite mosaics Leila’s ancestors had installed and the carefully nurtured grass by the long mirror pool, a lush green bed in a land of scarce rainfall and high temperatures.

‘What did you say to him?’ He spun round, spittle spraying Leila’s cheek. ‘It must have been you. Everything else was settled. There’s no reason for him to cry off unless you put doubt in his mind.’

His angry countenance filled her vision but she stood steadfast, knowing better than to retreat before his fury.