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“This is amazing,” she said as she examined the interior. When she saw the bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket, with two accompanying glasses, she licked her lips. Beside it were two china plates, silverware and tempting appetizers. “You really thought of everything.”
“I wanted to pamper you. To take care of you for a change.”
She blinked rapidly, as if moisture threatened to spill from her eyes. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.”
“Never?”
She shook her head. “Not since I was young. My mother was...not strong.”
That surprised him, given the extraordinary strength and will Claire possessed. His own mother was as gracious and kind as could be, but had an iron spine. He had little use for weak women.
“My father doted on her, but then he was gone, and it was just me, her and Freddy.”
“And you took over?”
“Yes.”
Claire told him more, revealing so much of herself as she talked about her childhood. Many of her tales made him laugh, others had him tensing his fists, ready to hurt someone. How a father could allow himself to become addicted to games of chance, leaving his family nearly penniless, was unfathomable. How a mother could collapse into weakness under the guise of her artistic temperament, allowing her teenaged daughter to support her, was infuriating.
Yet how Claire had done it—and succeeded beyond anyone’s dreams—was inspiring.
Philip had instructed the driver to cruise around the city for a while, but once the champagne and caviar were gone, he pressed a button to signal they were ready to proceed to their eventual destination. When they arrived, and the driver opened the door, Claire looked past him to the entrance for the hotel and gasped.
“This is...oh, my God, Philip, this is the Four Seasons.”
“Yes, I know. The guidebook spoke highly of it.”
She clutched his arm. “You can’t possibly afford this.”
“For one night—for this night—I can absolutely afford this.”
She opened her mouth as if to object again, but he kissed away her words. By the time he’d finished exploring her luscious mouth, any arguments had left her mind, and she smiled as she exited the car.
Having called ahead to make arrangements, and gotten the information he needed, Philip didn’t hesitate once inside. He crossed the marble-floored lobby, which was almost as graceful and elegant as his own palace, though much more crowded, and went straight to the restaurant. After he gave his name, they were led to a private table, small and intimate, in a shadowy corner.
“This is too much,” Claire said as Philip helped her into her seat.
“Pampering. Remember?”
“I know, but...”
“Are you having a good time?”
“Yes, but...”
“Then please just enjoy yourself. Stop worrying, stop analyzing, stop thinking.”
She hesitated, then finally nodded. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m quite sure.”
That seemed to put an end to her worries, because for the next few hours, over what even Shelby would concede was an excellent meal, Claire was as relaxed and happy as he’d ever seen her. They talked about everything. More about her childhood, and as much as he could tell her about his.
He was finally able to admit that he was the only son of very wealthy parents, and revealed much about his daily life. She enjoyed hearing about his family. She especially liked his stories about his spoiled cousin, Shelby, who, she forced him to admit, hadn’t really wanted to work in her shop tonight, and had done it only under duress.
“It sounds so wonderful, where you live,” she said, after they were finishing off a dessert that couldn’t begin to compare to the one they’d had the previous night. “I’d love to see it.”
“You will.”
She shifted a little and looked away. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I wasn’t angling for an invitation.”
“You have one.”
She nodded in thanks. “I just meant I’ve never really been anywhere but here. My mother used to talk about her life in the ballet, before she met and married my father. She traveled all over the world, saw exotic places—glamorous cities, big castles, jungles, deserts.”
His own kingdom could provide many of those things. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a jungle not too far away.
So far, so good, as they said.
“I thought you liked living here,” he murmured, wanting to discover just how attached she was to her homeland.
She shrugged. “I do. But I don’t know whether it’s because I really like it or because I have no other options.”
“You could go anywhere you want.”
“Not easily,” she said with a sigh.
“Because of your shop?”
“The shop was a means to an end. A way to support myself and my brother. I never finished college, and neither did he. I inherited the building and thought about selling it.”
Would Philip never have met her in that case? It didn’t bear thinking about. “Why did you decide not to?” he asked, suspecting he knew the reason. Claire wasn’t one to take the easy road.
“I suppose because I was thinking long-term, not short-term. I had enough money to get by and to do something with the building. I don’t have many other skills, other than being able to make the most fattening foods on the planet.”
“Delectable,” he murmured, thinking about some of the specialties he’d sampled. None compared to her, but they were all better than any sweets he’d tasted in any world.
“It seemed going into business would be better than getting a big chunk of cash, which my brother could try to squeeze out of me in dribs and drabs.”
Philip’s hand tightened in his lap as he thought about her brother. “Have you heard from him?” he was compelled to ask.
A shadow crossed her face. “No, not a word in weeks.”
“And you’re worried?”
“Yes, plus more than a little hurt, to be honest. I was furious at first. Now I just feel betrayed.”
Philip reached out and grasped her hand. “I am going to be thankful every day for the rest of my life that your wastrel brother took advantage of us both.”
She gazed at him, her lovely eyes gleaming in the candlelight. “I suspect I am, too,” she whispered.
They stared at one another for a long moment, saying so many things without speaking. And at that moment, Philip knew Claire was in love with him, too. Neither of them had said the words, but the emotion was there, thick and powerful, swirling between them like an undeniable force.
“Philip?”
“Yes, love?”
“I think I’m ready for you to take me home now.”
He smiled, knowing what she wanted. She was as ready to make love as he was. What she didn’t realize was that they didn’t have a long car ride between them and ultimate pleasure.
“Let’s go,” he told her, reaching out once more for her hand.
She glanced around, looking for their waiter. “Is this how you could afford to take me here?” she asked with a chuckle. “Are we doing a dine and dash?”
“Not at all. Everything’s taken care of already. They’ll bill the meal to my room.”
Surprise and excitement flashed in her eyes. “You mean we don’t have to ride all the way back to my place?”
“No, Claire. We just have to ride up in an elevator to our suite.” He slid an arm around her waist. “I’m not letting you get away from me until morning.”
* * *
THEY DIDN’T EXCHANGE a word as they left the restaurant and crossed the lobby to the elevators. The sexual tension that had been building between them for days was about to erupt. She kept herself in check, not touching him, though they walked closely enough for their legs to brush. If he reached for her, or she for him, they’d be making out in the elevator, not giving a damn about who might walk in on them.
And, of course, someone did step in—an older couple and two businessmen, forcing them to the back corner. Claire wondered what they must think, given the tension between Philip and her. Musk and desire seeped from every one of Philip’s masculine pores, and her own body had to be giving off all kinds of pheromones. She felt practically in heat around this man.
He nearly sent her through the roof when he reached into his pocket, retrieved the black silk panties she’d given him at the start of the evening, and brought them to his lips. To anyone looking over a shoulder, he might appear to be wiping his mouth with a black handkerchief. But Claire felt her legs sag, and had to lean against the back wall, clenching her thighs together as moisture welled from her aching sex.
For the past twenty-four hours she’d been wanting to be filled by him. If they were alone, she’d hike up her dress and take him right now, mirrors and cameras be damned.
She only hoped he’d brought that entire box of condoms, because she intended for tonight to be one she would never forget.
