Read One Night in the Orient for Free Online

it.
    It took a lot of willpower to meet Nick’s green eyes, but she parried their unsparing assessment with head held high. She wouldn’t lie to him.
    Straightening her shoulders, she said briefly, “When I got back to my room in the hotel there was an email from my fiancé telling me he’d found someone else.”
    The base of Nick’s glass made a sharp little clink as he set it down on the nearest table. He strode towards her, his expression formidably angry. “An
email?”
he demanded incredulously.
    Clutching her glass, she nodded, unable to articulate her tumbling thoughts.
    Nick opened his mouth, then closed it again, biting back words she was glad she didn’t have to hear. He took her glass and set it down, then drew her towards him. On an uneven sigh Siena let herself relax into the strong arms enfolding her. Her forehead came to rest on a powerfully muscled shoulder as he stroked slowly across her back in soothing, potently comforting movements.
    Siena dragged in several more ragged breaths and abandoned herself to the simple relief of being held.
    In a cold, uncompromising voice he said, “Cry if you want to.”
    “I don’t,” she said, blinking back ferocious tears. If she cried it would be because Nick was being so kind—in a brotherly way, of course, she reminded herself drearily.
    Well, that was all right.
    Still in that formidable tone he said, “It’s too early to say this, but anyone who would break off an engagement by email is someone you don’t need in your life.”
    And when she stayed silent he added, “Not now and not ever.”
    She nodded. “I know,” she muttered. “It’s all right. I’m not going to crack up.”
    “I didn’t expect you to. Not you.”
    Something melted deep inside her. The warmth of his embrace and the lithe power and strength of his support—entirely lacking in sensuality—gave her strength. Her taut muscles loosened, became freer, her breaths evening out so that the sobs she dreaded didn’t come to fruition.
    Slowly—so slowly she had no idea what was happening—the wave of misery receded. Yet still she didn’t pull away, and Nick didn’t drop his arms.
    At first without realising it, she began to respond to the soothing movement of his hand across her back. Her body stirred, sending secret, unsuspected signals that blossomed into a tantalising awareness, an insidious pleasure that sang through her in heady invitation.
    A shiver of mixed anticipation and apprehension shocked her into pulling back. Instantly he released her and stepped away, examining her with the burnished gaze that successfully hid his thoughts.
    Hot shame rushed through Siena. Rushing into speech she said, “Thanks.” And managed to sketch asmile. “You should have had sisters—you make a great brother.”
    His brows lifted, and the smile he gave in return was sardonic. “Any time you need a fraternal shoulder, just let me know,” he said, drawling the words with an intonation that deepened her flush.
    “I hope I never do again.” Her voice was pitched too high. Avoiding his glance, she picked up her wine glass.
    Fine tremors shook her hand, and she hoped he couldn’t see the shimmer across the surface of the liquid when she lifted it to her lips. After the smallest of sips she set the glass back down again in case he’d noticed.
    But he was looking at his watch. Immediately, as if he’d somehow summoned her, a woman appeared with a tray of small savouries. Nick introduced her as his housekeeper and when she’d gone he ordered, “Have something to eat. You’re as pale as a ghost.”
    Obviously he hadn’t felt anything like that heady, sensuous connection. He probably hadn’t even realised what his closeness was doing to her.
    Thank heavens. “Hadn’t you noticed I’m always pale?” she said crisply. “Although I prefer to think of myself as ethereally fair.”
    His half-smile told her he knew what she was doing. “Ethereal? Not with devil-black curls and that smart