London's Eligible Bachelors. Sharon Kendrick

her tightly against his chest, the wetness of her tears warming his skin through his shirt. Her breasts were soft and pointed and her hair was full of the scent of lilac, and it took every bit of his self-control to dampen down his instinctive desire as he smoothed the bright strands down with a distracted hand.

      ‘It’s going to be OK,’ he muttered, and prayed for his body not to react to her proximity. ‘I promise you.’

      Through her tears it occurred to Sabrina that his kindness and understanding were just two more facets of a complex personality which perplexed and intrigued her more with each day that passed. And that simply wasn’t on the agenda. Her stay here was only temporary, she reminded herself as more tears spilled onto his shirt.

      Guy let her cry until her sobs became dry and shuddering, and then he went and made her some hot chocolate, sitting in front of her like a determined nurse while she drank it.

      He thought how unselfconsciously provocative her movements were. Thought that she shouldn’t look that sexy with eyes bright red from crying and hair which was matted by those tears. But sexy she looked. Extremely sexy.

      ‘So.’ He sat back on his heels. ‘Are you going to let it go now, Sabrina?’

      She couldn’t have said no, even if she’d wanted to, not with that silver gaze compelling her to start living her life again. ‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘I am.’

      ‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘And are you going to let me take you out for dinner next week?’

      She forced herself to remember that the question wasn’t as warmly intimate as it sounded. ‘Sure,’ she said lightly. ‘Is this the client dinner?’

      ‘That’s right,’ he agreed. ‘I have a Middle-Eastern potentate I’ve just bought a picture for. How would you like to have dinner with Prince Khalim?’

      ‘Prince Khalim?’ She gulped. ‘Just how many princes do you know, Guy?’

      He smiled. ‘Khalim is my oldest friend. I’ve known him since schooldays—it was through him I got most of my contacts.’

      ‘But, Guy—’

      ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he soothed. ‘You’ll like him—a little old-fashioned perhaps, but he’s a nice guy.’