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“You know how I feel about presents,” she said, as he took a seat next to her on the bed.
“Yes, but you should know by now how much I like giving them.” He drew a wide jeweled gold cuff from the pocket of the robe, the thick cuff inlaid with pink diamonds, rubies, and topaz and fastened the bangle around her wrist
She glanced down at the heavy gold bangle, thickly studded with jewels. It had to be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. “Are these all real gems?”
“Yes.”
“It’s old.”
“At least one hundred and fifty years.”
The ornate bracelet on her wrist slid forward, exquisite pink and ruby stones catching the light, casting prisms on the wall. A jeweled bed. A jeweled wrist. But jewels wouldn’t keep her here. Jewels sparkled but they couldn’t keep her warm. They wouldn’t make her feel needed, loved. And that was what she wanted most. Love.
“Thank you,” she said, giving her hand another light shake, admiring the enormous stones in the thick gold, using the time to divert his attention so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.
Things were becoming more complicated. She’d begun to feel things and if she wasn’t careful, she’d make a mistake. A terrible mistake. And enough mistakes had been made.
“My pleasure,” he answered.
She glanced up at him, hoping he wouldn’t see her chaotic emotions. “Did you just return to give me this?”
“No.” He took off his robe, and tossed it onto a low chair in the corner. “I forgot something.”
“You did?”
“Yes. You.” He went to the gold lantern and turned off the light before returning to the bed. “Scoot over. And don’t worry. You can relax. You are safe. Nothing is happening tonight. I just want to sleep near my beautiful wife.”
In bed, he drew her close to him, his arm loose around her waist, his hand resting on her hip.
For a moment she couldn’t breathe. For a moment she waited, wondering if panic would hit. If she’d become nervous or uncomfortable.
If she’d dislike being held by him, held close to him.
None of those things happened.
He felt good. He felt warm. She felt safe.
* * *
Jemma woke up alone.
She told herself she didn’t mind. Told herself she was glad. She needed space. She liked her independence. But it’d felt good having Mikael near her last night. She’d slept deeply for a change and she woke rested, and anxious to see him.
But Mikael didn’t put in an appearance that morning. Instead there was a purple bikini and delicate violet silk cover-up waiting for her, along with a note telling her that tonight she’d sleep in the Amethyst Chamber.
Jemma changed into the pretty purple bikini and slipped the delicate silk cover up over her head, letting the light fabric settle against her tummy and thighs.
Purple was a good color for her. It flattered her skin. She wondered if Mikael would have a gift made from amethyst gems for her tonight. A necklace, a ring, or possibly earrings. She didn’t want it, or need it, but it gave her something to think about, rather than her emotions.
She missed Mikael.
She didn’t want to be alone.
But she had breakfast outside and then paced the courtyard, swimming when she grew too hot.
Lunch came and went, with her again eating by herself inside one of the air conditioned pavilions, needing the shade.
It was a long day waiting. She grew restless and angry. She peeled off the filmy violet cover up and swam again, and then stretched facedown on a lounge chair, the high desert temperature drying her purple suit almost instantly.
She buried her face in the crook of her arm, telling herself to relax, and calm down. She was getting herself worked up over nothing. Mikael would join her when he could. He’d be there as soon as he could manage it. There was no reason to feel so desperate, or lonely...
And then he was there.
Just like that.
His shadow stretched over her lounge chair, blocking the sun, and she turned over onto her back and looked up at him.
He gazed down at her with dark, smoky eyes. He was dressed in his robes. She suspected he’d had business earlier. But she didn’t ask and he didn’t tell her.
She raised a hand to shield her eyes and she let her gaze wander over him, up over his chest, to his neck, his hard jaw, the chiseled cheek and then to his eyes. He had ridiculously beautiful eyes. She’d kill for his lashes. It would save her a fortune in eyeliner and mascara.
“You smile.” Mikael’s deep husky voice vibrated between them, coloring the air, filling the space around them.
Heat danced through her, little sparklers lighting nerve endings beneath her skin. She flexed her feet, feeling her toes curl.
Amazing how little it took for him to turn her on.
Just a long glance from his dark eyes.
A word from his lips.
A certain pitch in his voice.
That’s all it took and everything within her melted, wanting. Wanting him and what he did to her, and what he could make her feel.
Jemma drew a slow breath, and then exhaled just as slowly, trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart. “You have the longest, darkest eyelashes,” she said, hating the slightly breathless note in her voice, knowing he’d notice. He always did. “I should steal them. You don’t need them. I’m the model, not you.”
The edge of his mouth lifted. He sat down on the edge of her lounge chair, his hand settling on her knees and then sliding up a couple inches on her thigh. “No Saidian queen has ever held a job.”
“Are you saying I can’t work if I am your queen?”
“You are my queen, and I haven’t made any decisions with regard to your career. Although truthfully, it would be very unusual in Saidia, and would probably create a great deal of controversy, if you did continue working.”
“So we know what that means.”
He tapped the tip of her nose. “We don’t know what that means, Miss Smarty Pants.” He moved his hand to her thigh, his palm warm against her skin. “Would you miss modeling?”
“I would miss working.”
“But not modeling specifically?”
She shrugged, and struggled to focus, which wasn’t easy with the warmth of his hand stealing into her thigh. “I enjoyed my job until recently...when everyone dropped me.”
“Could you be happy doing other things?”
He’d begun to draw invisible circles on her thigh, setting the nerve endings on fire.
“Such as?” she asked, her voice growing husky.
“Making public appearances. Talking to girls and advocating literacy. Making love to me. Having babies.”
Every word he spoke was accompanied by another swoop of his finger across her bare skin, flaming the nerve endings all the while moving closer to her tiny purple bikini bottoms.
She was tempted to press her knees together to stop his fingers and yet she loved his touch, wanted more, wanted him to strip the bottoms off of her and part her thighs and settle between them again, and put his mouth on her, using his tongue and fingers to trace the shape of her soft folds and the tight sensitive clit—
“You’re distracted,” Mikael said, leaning in to kiss her, even as his palm slid over her thigh to her hip.
She shivered at the caress and the brush of his lips over hers. He pushed her heavy damp hair from her face and kissed her again, more deeply.
She sighed, as he lifted his head. She wanted more, not less. “Maybe a little,” she agreed. “Where have you been?”
“I had some business to attend to.”
“Out here?” she asked glancing around. “In the middle of the desert?”
“There is technology.” He dipped his head, kissed her again, another tingling, soul-stirring kiss that made shivers race through her.
She reached up to touch his face. “When can I use your technology?”
“When the honeymoon is over.”
“Is this tradition, or your rule?”
“Both. I want you to myself, and tradition says I have eight days to do just that...keep you hidden from the world during my attempt to win your heart.”
“Are you trying to win my heart?” she asked, as his hand stroked up her waist to brush the curve of her breast. “Or win my body?”
“I think I’ve already done that.”
“You sound so sure of yourself,” she said, gasping as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of her bikini top to cup her breast.
“I am.” His head dropped and he kissed her again, even as he kneaded her breast and teased her sensitive nipple.
Desire surged through her, a hot, insatiable current that scalded her skin and made her melt on the inside. She leaned into his hand, her body aching, straining for more contact.
“You’re starting it again,” she whispered against his mouth. “You’re wreaking havoc on my defenses.”
His dark gaze held hers, the irises dark, mysterious. “You don’t need defenses against me.”
