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Because now she knew exactly what it was like to be kissed by him. The passion he could elicit from her body.
Her belly tightened at the thought. She flung up the other arm and blotted out the world completely.
So what if he was a great kisser and good with his hands? Okay,reallygood with his hands. How dense would she be to give her heart to the most unavailable man on the planet? Another in a line of people who wouldn’t put her needs before his.
Didn’t she know from bitter experience what that could do to a person?
Lily recalled other mornings when she was still very young, when she’d climb into her mother’s bed and cuddle in close. Her mother would tell her stories about the amazing places she’d filmed in, the handsome men she’d acted with.‘Though none so handsome as your daddy,’she’d say, with a sad catch to her voice.
Then she’d sit Lily at her dressing table, take up a beautiful ebony brush with silver inlays and gently tease the knots and tangles from her daughter’s hair, the same dark red as her own. Singing to her—nonsense songs to make her laugh and distract her from any painful tugs, though she’d rarely hurt her. Her mother’s fingers had been nimble and soothing.
But then had come the days when Mummy had been ‘too tired’, or wouldn’t wake up at all, and there’d be a sour smell to the room and empty bottles on the bedside table.
After that Lily had learned to do her own hair. Raking at the tangles with a cheap plastic brush the housekeeper had bought for her.
Needing someone who didn’t care had cursed her mother to a life of despair before leaving her only child to fend for herself.
But that child had survived and learned the lesson well.
It didn’t matter how Khaled’s touch made her feel. There’d be nothing but heartbreak with him.
Flinging open the wardrobes to rediscover her new clothes made her feel better. Forty-eight hours ago she’d had one good dress to her name. Now, cleaned and mended, it hung there, looking decidedly drab next to all its new and glamorous sisters. Everything from day dresses to the most exquisite but revealing evening gown that Lily doubted she’d ever have the courage or the right occasion to wear.
But today was a dress-down day. She was spending time with the twins later.
Rummaging through the rest of the selection Eleanor had insisted she keep, she unearthed a white cotton peasant blouse and denim shorts with cute turn-ups. Spying a colourful scarf on a shelf, she snatched that up, too, knotting it at her throat. She might feel miserable, but she was damn well going to look cheery.
Finally, after slipping on some wedge-heeled sandals and admiring her new look in the mirror, she decided that if she could find more of those chapattis and that scented tea they’d served her yesterday, she’d be about ready to face her day.
In the breakfast room, Khaled was taking his morning coffee. He was hidden away in a nook near the window, scrolling through the news on a tablet, when Lily strolled in.
His instinctive surge of delight was followed by irritation. It was barely past seven. He’d planned on being safely in his office long before anyone else was up. In particular Lily.
Yesterday’s photos were circulating, and the press was filled with nothing but the Sad Prince and his new girlfriend, which meant the story was driving itself. There was really no need for him to see Lily while they were in the palace. Last night’s accord could continue, while his people and Nate searched for the evidence that would implicate Hyde-Wallace.
So why was he gazing at her?
Right now she stood there, surveying the breakfast buffet. He noted the shorts. Obviously from the new wardrobe the Queen had helped her acquire yesterday. A scarf was tied at her throat. Accessories, too? His mother had been thorough.
Khaled was still for a long moment. God, but she looked young. Young and fresh and heart-stoppingly pretty. Her hair was caught up loosely in a clasp that left tempting tendrils spilling over her shoulders. A man would only have to lift a hand and a single tug would set all those glorious locks tumbling free.
Khaled reached for his coffee, giving his fingers an alternative occupation. He took a sip as Lily stretched to gather an apple from the fruit bowl. Her blouse rode up, exposing a slender midriff of smooth ivory skin. His fingers tightened as he remembered the petal-soft skin between her thighs...how she’d come apart when he touched her there.
The cup clattered back into its saucer.
This was intolerable. He’d been determined to put yesterday’s events into their proper perspective. Not relive the more enticing moments. He’d allowed himself to be drawn in, to care what happened to her. When she’d whispered how she’d wanted Edward Marchant, that feckless social climber, to be a father to her, he’d reached for her hand without thinking...
It was probably as well that he’d been called away. He shuddered to think what he might have ended up saying to her. A woman could not be allowed to have this kind of hold over him. It was entirely unacceptable.
Sabir entered, on his way to his regular breakfast rendezvous with the Prince. Time to get on with work for the day. But his secretary halted as Lily greeted him and now, his morning duties apparently forgotten, he was retrieving his wallet to share photos of his baby daughter.
Lily’s mouth spread into that bright, enchanting smile of hers and Khaled’s heart constricted. What man wouldn’t be stopped in his tracks by that?
Two days she’d been here.
Two.
Was that all it took for a man’s self-control to begin slipping away? Well, not this man. The attraction was an aberration. He’d master it.
