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‘You are welcome.’ Lifting her left hand, he kissed the ring, and the lump of emotion made it hard for her to breathe.
But it was only as he escorted her out of the hotel into the waiting limousine, a protective arm around her waist, that it occurred to her that wearing his ring didn’t just make her feel as if she belonged to him. It made her feel owned.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HOW CAN I want her so much, all the time? Why can I not control it?
Raif’s fingers firmed on Kasia’s waist as she shifted away from him to talk to some minor royal, who had been flirting with his fiancée for the last twenty minutes. Kasia seemed oblivious to the young man’s intentions, or that the bastard had conducted their conversation about her research into desert agriculture almost entirely at her cleavage. Her lush, beautiful bust pressed provocatively against the purple satin as sh
e gesticulated to make a point about Narabia’s need for greater yield and the research she was doing into how to achieve that.
Blood surged into his groin, and Raif tensed, annoyed all over again by the effect she had on him. He had tried to be considerate these last four days, had deliberately made himself scarce—especially at night. She’d been exhausted when he’d seen her in Walmsley’s office, the bruised smudges under her eyes disturbing him. And each morning he could hear her retching violently as she had done on their morning together two weeks ago. He would have to bed her soon or risk exploding. But it was beginning to concern him, not just how little control he had over his own libido but also the toll the pregnancy seemed to be taking on her.
She was radiant tonight—and all the more intoxicating—but he did not want to hurt her, to over-tax her. However, the more he tried to give her space, the more difficult it became to control the hunger. At least he had managed to get her to wear his ring. But as his gaze caught the flicker of the diamond on her finger, he knew it was not enough.
He wanted to stake a legal claim. He needed to make her his wife.
‘Your fiancée is extremely captivating, Mr Khan.’
Raif jerked his gaze from the valley of Kasia’s breasts to find the renowned Swiss financier he had been chatting with observing him with a knowing, masculine smile.
Embarrassed heat scorched the back of Raif’s neck.
The older man had caught him checking out his own fiancée while they were supposed to be having a discussion on… What had they been discussing?
‘And intelligent,’ the man added, as Raif tried to recall what exactly they had been talking about before he had been distracted—again—like a callow teenage boy. ‘She speaks very knowledgably about your region’s agricultural challenges. She will make you an excellent wife. When is the wedding?’
Good question.
‘Soon,’ he said, the frustration he was trying—and failing—to control, by avoiding his fiancée, suddenly making it hard for him to breathe.
A waiter passed them with a tray full of colourful cocktails. He rarely drank alcohol, it wasn’t part of his culture and he preferred never to dull his senses, but he grabbed a Bloody Mary and knocked it back in one go. The salty fragrant flavour soothed his dry throat, but did nothing to sooth the hunger and impatience smouldering in his gut.
This was madness. What was he doing dressed up in a monkey suit making small talk he couldn’t even follow and letting some over-privileged fool leer at Kasia’s breasts when all he really wanted to do was strip her out of that provocative dress and feel those full nipples swell against his tongue?
Avoidance was not the answer.
‘Would you excuse me, Stefano?’ he said, dismissing the financier as he tightened his grip on Kasia’s waist and pressed his face into the sensitive skin under her earlobe.
‘Kasia, let’s return to the hotel,’ he murmured, as he kissed her neck and inhaled the intoxicating scent of jasmine and spice. The heat rose up his torso, but he’d had enough of caring about how primitive or uncivilised he appeared by mauling her in a public place.
Appearances were overrated. And he was not a civilised man. Especially where this woman was concerned. So why was he trying so hard to pretend he was? She was beautiful, captivating and wildly attractive, not just her body but also her mind—he’d caught enough of her conversation with a variety of people to realise that. Stefano was right, she would make him an excellent wife and an excellent princess. So why was he waiting to seduce her?
Kasia shuddered, her amber eyes darkening with surprise and arousal. The young aristocrat finally detached his gaze from her cleavage to frown at Raif. The superior, vaguely disgusted expression told Raif all he needed to know about the whelp’s opinion of his behaviour.
He sent the pampered fool the caustic smile he had used to unnerve his opponents before the many brutal bareknuckle fights he had been forced to win to gain leadership of the Kholadi over a decade ago.
Back off. She belongs to me.
The young man got the message and disappeared into the crowd.
Satisfaction stirred, feeding the heat and the hunger.
Maybe he had masked the feral teenager he’d once been in designer clothing, and learned how to survive and prosper in the world of high finance, but the instincts of that wild boy still existed inside him and he had no desire to tame them.
‘Okay, Raif,’ Kasia said, the edge of desire in her voice only adding to the pheromones now firing his blood. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Good.’ Grasping her trembling fingers, the ring biting into his palm, he led her through the crowd of partygoers towards the domed entrance of the lavish Belle Époque ballroom.
