The Forbidden Series
Billionaires who can look, but shouldnât touch!
The Billionaireâs Innocent
Part Three
Nora Grant thought she could trust Zair al Ruyi, thought that he was the same man she fell in love with when she was a teenager, but horrible questions keep popping upâall leading back to her best friendâs disappearance. Zair canât risk telling Nora what heâs really up to, or how his half brother Azhil, the Sultan of Ruyi, might have been involved with Jason Treffen in a worldwide sex trafficking operation. Right now he needs Nora to believe heâs a monster, capable of the horrendous things sheâs heard about. Even if it makes her hate him. Too many lives are at stakeâincluding hers. He just has to pretend a little while longer and hope Nora will understandâ¦
ZAIR AL RUYI wanted her to think the worst of him. So it shouldnât have felt like a red-hot poker through the chestâlike the worst kind of betrayalâthat she did.
âWill we get to the truth this time?â he asked. He put the wineglass down and then leaned against the rail, shifting so he was closer to her.
Nora Grant, who had always believed the best of him. It stunned him to realize that heâd imagined she always would.
âIâm not the one whoâs been concealing the truth,â Nora said, her voice thick, but she swayed toward him anyway, as though her body trusted him no matter what came out of her mouth. âIâve told you everything. All youâve done is talk about obedience and make me trail around after you like a dog on a leash.â
âWhy did you come here, to Cannes? Into this grim little world?â he asked her, making no attempt to modify his tone. âWhat on earth would make you put yourself at risk like this?â
Her eyes glittered with emotion. âI told youââ
âYes, of course.â He moved so he was trapping her at the rail, a hand on either side of her hips and his face too close to hers. He didnât touch her. He didnât need to touch herânot when he could see the fine little tremors that moved over her skin. Not when he could smell her perfume and the warm heat of her arousal beneath it. Not when he could see the way she melted toward him, then yanked herself back. âThis epic friendship of yours, the likes of which the world has never seen before or since. I am fond indeed of my friends, Nora. And if I suspected they were caught up in something like this, I would contact the authorities. I would not prance into the middle of this cesspool with absolutely nothing to protect me.â
âThat might not have been my smartest move,â she acknowledged. âBut you donât understand.â
âTell me, then, what I need to know,â he encouraged her, but his voice was a dark thing and he could see it move through her and tangle inside her. He could see the misery and the longing transform her lovely face. âTell me why.â
âHarlow is the best friend Iâve ever had,â she whispered. âDo you know what itâs like to meet someone and feel like they instantly become family? So much so that itâs inconceivable that they werenât always there? She isnât just a college friend, Zair. Sheâs like a sister to me.â
He held her gaze for a long moment and then slowly shook his head. Nora swallowed, hard.
âTry again,â he said. He saw unshed tears glimmer in her eyes, and she raised her hands up as if to push him awayâbut only held them there, in fists, and didnât touch him. Her blue eyes filled with misery.
âItâs my fault,â she whispered, spitting out the words as if they were poisoned.
Zair didnât question the impulse to gather her to him, pulling her into his arms and ignoring those fierce fists, hard against his chest. He didnât question that thing in him that made him bring her close, made him bend down so her face was buried in his neck, so she could whisper all her guilt and panic and fear into something hard and strong like his shoulder, which could take it.
âMy life is so hollow,â she told him, told that dark little pocket of space. She rested her forehead against him and her lips barely moved, but he heard her. He could be her confessional. He could give her absolution, if nothing else. âItâs a constant battle between expectations and pointlessness and none of it