‘Of course you can. You’ll look marvellous.’ ‘It’s kind of you but unnecessary. I’ll wear my skirt and jacket to the dinner.’ Seeing the other woman’s raised brows, she hurried on. ‘I’m here for business, not pleasure.’ Lady Rania shook her head. ‘You have a lot to learn, Ms Fletcher. There is no reason why business cannot be spiced with pleasure, or why a lovely young woman cannot make the most of herself. After all,’ she continued with a glance at Jacqui’s long-sleeved top, ‘The dress is modest.’ Jacqui didn’t know how to respond. She couldn’t admit she’d never worn a formal evening gown and had no wish to start. This slinky dress would highlight the deficiencies of her lanky frame. There’d be nowhere to hide in it. Yet the slide of silk through her hand was seductive. Jacqui wondered how it would feel, wearing this designer original against bare skin, and shivered. Maybe because her riotous imagination pictured strong, bronzed hands stripping it off her—Asim’s hands.
