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She had no idea what she had expected, but certainly nothing this sophisticated or stunning. She realised she had never seen this place when she had accompanied her father on the state visit all those years ago. They had instead been accommodated in a tented encampment out on the plains. When had this palace been constructed? Because it looked at least as old as Narabia’s Golden Palace, and equally as lavish.
The decision to fake an engagement with the new Crown Prince suddenly felt a great deal more complicated. Especially when a group of staff gathered to greet them as they rode through the palace’s main domed arch and arrived in a smaller courtyard. A beautiful fountain stood as its focal point, the gold figurine in the centre shimmering as water spouted from its mouth and sparkled like rare gems in the sun.
A line of dignitaries appeared in full ceremonial garb, clearly having assembled to welcome their soon-to-be-crowned king.
Liah knew all about pomp and circumstance, having grown up a sheikh’s daughter, but even so she stared wide-eyed as Kamal was greeted with great deference by men she suspected must be the ruling elders he had mentioned on the ride, when explaining to her how they would have to present the engagement.
‘There will be expectations—just let me handle it,’ he’d said with his usual authority.
After the scene at the camp with her father, she had been way too stressed to worry too much about what that might mean, until Kamal jumped down from his horse then marched towards her to help her off Ashreen.
She slipped down into his arms, shocked by the oddly proprietary gesture as he stared into her eyes, towering over her, and held her around the waist. Was he going to kiss her in front of all these people?
Her lips tingled, as her gaze dropped of its own accord to those firm, sensual lips that quirked now with a rueful smile.
‘Do you wish me to stake my claim on you, Kaliah?’ he murmured, his voice a husky purr full of amused arrogance.
‘No, of course not,’ she mumbled, jerking her head up and trying to tug herself out of his embrace. But he held her firmly, stopping her from retreating, the mocking light in his eyes suggesting he knew exactly how off-balance she was.
‘We don’t need to be quitethatconvincing,’ she added breathlessly.
‘Don’t we?’ he said, the amusement dropping from his expression.
Then, to her stunned surprise, he dropped his head to press his forehead to hers and breathed in, the gesture somehow even more intimate than a kiss. Suddenly everyone else faded away until it was just the two of them, cocooned in the rare chemistry which seemed to shimmer in the air around them like the glittering light on the palace’s mosaic tiling.
Her heart pounded so hard, she was surprised it didn’t beat right out of her chest as his callused palm settled on her cheek and then slid down to cup the back of her neck.
‘We cannot sleep together at the palace unless we are wed,’ he said, his voice so low only she could hear him. ‘Tradition demands I show my future queen the ultimate respect.’
She nodded. ‘Okay.’
That’s probably a good thing. Surely sex—especially the kind of sex we have—would only complicate this situation more? I need to start weaning myself off this man now.
But even as she tried to persuade herself this new development was for the best, disappointment rippled through her system and weighed down the hollow ache in her stomach. Then his thumb caressed the hammering pulse point in her neck. She sighed before she could stop herself and he chuckled.
‘Do not worry. I embark on a European trade tour tomorrow. You will come with me as my fiancée.’
What?
The information registered, delivered—as per usual—not as a question but a command. Even, so she struggled to get her mind to engage while the tantalising scent of him filled her senses.
‘For...for how long?’ she managed, knowing she should object. A European trade tour had not been part of their agreement. And surely presenting herself as his fiancée on the world stage would only make things that much trickier when they called it off?
‘Ten days,’ he said, then skimmed his thumb across her lips, pressing down on her bottom lip and making the ache so much worse. ‘I will insist we have adjoining suites. And no one will dare question our activities after the official business is conducted.’
‘But...what then?’ she murmured.
‘Then we return to Zokar,’ he said.
Ten days to indulge this insatiable passion before they went their separate ways?
Should she? Could she? Surely such an arrangement would be playing with fire? Hadn’t she already been scorched enough?
She tried to open her mouth to clarify exactly what her official duties would entail. And to get a more robust commitment out of him regarding the parameters of their fake arrangement. For example, how long did he envision them lying about the engagement once they returned to Zokar?
But she couldn’t seem to speak past the lump of anticipation and excitement forming in her throat...and making her panties damp with need at the thought of being so close to him for ten days. Having the chance not just to sleep with him every night, but to spend time with him in his role as the soon-to-be King of Zokar.
Perhaps she needed this. Perhaps they both did, to finally burn away whatever it was that had drawn them together so forcefully. Theirs had never been more than a physical connection. That was what she needed to remember. Why shouldn’t they indulge it? After ten days, they would be more than ready to part, and her fascination with him would be over.
