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Her husky words took him out of his reverie. He needed no further encouragement, so he dropped the food, stood up and led Leila back over to the bed.
* * *
When Leila woke up again it was morning. She opened her eyes and saw that the room was bathed in sunlight. She was on her own. But just as she thought that, Alix strolled out of the bathroom, straightening his tie. He was impeccably dressed. Shaved. Cleaned up. When Leila felt utterly wanton.
She sat up and clutched the sheet to her body, thoroughly disorientated. Alix leaned against one of the four posters of the bed and crossed his arms. A sexy smile played around his mouth. ‘You look adorable...all mussed up.’
Leila scowled, and then grew hot when she thought of how mussed up she’d become when Alix had taken her to bed for the second time. Somehow in the dimly lit bathroom and bedroom last night it had been easier to face this man. Now it was daylight, and a return to reality and sanity was here. And it was not welcome.
Twinges and aches made her wince as she leant out to the side of the bed to look for some clothes.
Alix was there in seconds. ‘Are you okay?’
Leila looked at him and couldn’t breathe. ‘I’m fine... What time is it?’
She had no clue what the etiquette of this kind of morning-after scenario was. A morning-after in Venice, after a night of more debauchery than she’d ever known she was capable of. Mortification washed through her in a wave.
Alix glanced at his watch, oblivious to her inner turmoil. ‘It’s after ten. I’m sorry about this, but I do need to get back to Paris for a lunchtime meeting.’
Leila forced herself to meet his eyes, even though she wanted to slither down under the covers and all the way to Middle Earth. ‘Of course. I need to get back too.’
Alix put his hands either side of her hips, effectively trapping her. ‘You’re not regretting anything, are you?’
His face was so close she could see the lighter flecks of grey in his eyes. And she knew that no matter how embarrassed she was right now, how gauche she felt, she really didn’t regret a thing.
She shook her head and he pressed a firm kiss to her mouth before pulling back.
‘Good. The housekeeper has sent up some breakfast, and I had some clothes sent over for both of us.’
‘You did?’ Leila boggled.
Alix shrugged and stood up. ‘Sure—I called my assistant in Paris and she got them sent from a boutique here in Venice.’
Of course, Leila thought wryly to herself. She’d almost forgotten for a moment who Alix was. The power he wielded. The ease with which he clicked his fingers and had his orders obeyed. The ease with which she’d fallen into bed with him...
She had to stop thinking about that.
Galvanising herself, Leila got out of bed and pulled the sheet off the bed, tucking it around her body, all the while acutely aware of Alix’s amused gaze.
‘I’ll have a quick shower,’ she said, and walked to the bathroom with as much dignity as she could while trailing a long length of undoubtedly expensive Egyptian cotton behind her.
Once in the bathroom, Leila could hear Alix’s phone ring and his deep tones as he answered. It was a welcome reminder that he was itching to move on, to get back to Paris and his life. And she needed to get on too.
As she stepped under the hot spray of the shower she told herself that if all she had was this night in Venice with a beautiful exiled king then she would be happy with that.
She valiantly ignored the physical pang in the region of her chest that told her otherwise. She was not her mother, and she was not going to fall for the first man she’d slept with.
* * *
An hour later they were back on Alix’s private jet, taking off from Venice. Alix was talking in low tones in another guttural language on his phone. She guessed it must be a form of Spanish. It was a relief not to have his attention on her for a moment.
Leila looked out of the window and took a shaky breath. Hard to believe her world had changed so irrevocably within less than twenty-four hours.
She wore the new clothes Alix’s staff had sent over. Beautifully cut slim-fitting trousers and a loose long-sleeved silk top, with a wrap-around cashmere cardigan in the most divine sapphire-blue colour.
They’d even sent over fresh underwear and flat shoes. She felt cossetted and looked after. Dangerous. Because he did this sort of thing with women all the time.
When they’d been eating breakfast, just a short while before, she’d caught him looking at her intently. ‘What?’ Leila had asked. ‘Have I got something on my face?’
