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She hadn’t expected him to open his own door. And certainly had not been prepared for the sight of him in dress trousers and a fitted white shirt, the dark hair on his chest visible through the expensive linen. The untied bow-tie draped casually around his neck, the small nick on his chin where he must have cut himself shaving and the delicious aroma of sandalwood soap and clean male had only added to the strange sense of intimacy and sensory overload.
As his gaze had raked over her—with ruthless entitlement—she’d suddenly felt naked, her dress choice ill-advised, to say the least.
She loved the designer gown, adoring the way it draped over her slender curves and made her look less boyish—but she felt a bit too much of a woman right now.
A woman this man could probably devour in a heartbeat if he chose...
Not that she wanted him to. Not at all, she told herself staunchly, even if her knees felt a lot less solid than usual and as though a hot, heavy rock had dropped into her abdomen and started to glow.
He was still staring at her. But, instead of answering her beyond stupid question, he simply inclined his head slightly.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Proceed,’ he added, like a man who was used to giving orders and having them obeyed.
So much for her father’s assertion that Prince Kamal was uncomfortable about his role, because to her he seemed to be a natural born ruler.
She was forced to step closer to him again.
The strong brown column of his throat flexed as he swallowed. Inappropriate moisture flooded her panties as she slipped her fingers under his collar to hook the top button on his dress shirt.
He huffed.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asked, feeling oddly as if she were trying to calm a highly strung stallion, a wild one that could stamp her to dust at any moment.
His golden gaze met hers. ‘It feels as if I am being strangled.’
‘Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘It’s necessary to have the collar buttoned to tie the bow-tie.’
He nodded, but she could see in his eyes he was unimpressed.
Lifting on tiptoes, she grasped the ends of the tie, cursing her trembling fingers, her curiosity piqued again. The way it had been moments before when he had accused her of disrespecting him with that jaded, deliberately unconcerned look on his face, as if he was used to such treatment. A million questions rose to the surface of her brain, questions she knew she shouldn’t indulge, but even so...
Why had he never worn a tuxedo and bow-tie before? How had he gained the throne of Zokar? Whatwashis background—the background her father had referred to as not having prepared him for events like the one which had already started downstairs? Where had he got that scar? And why did his golden gaze seem somehow familiar?
She chewed her lip to stop the intrusive questions coming out of her mouth and concentrated on tying his bow-tie while preventing her knuckles from brushing against the warm skin of his throat.
One thing was for sure—doing this service for her two youngest brothers, Kasim and Rohaan, was nowhere near as nerve-racking, even though neither one of them could stand still for more than a nanosecond.
After several endless minutes of torture, she managed to arrange the bow-tie into some semblance of order.
‘There, that’s it, I think,’ she said, dropping her hands and scooting back.
She glanced up to find him watching her. His golden gaze was assessing, focussed and full of something hot and intense—which for once did not look like animosity.
A wave of warmth spread up her neck, making her far too aware she had only the stick-on bra cups under her dress to stop her puppies falling out of the daring gown.
‘How does it feel?’ she asked, determined to break the strange spell.
He touched the tie, shifted it slightly then stretched his neck. ‘Uncomfortable.’
‘You’ve never worn one before?’ The question popped out.
His jaw tightened. Had she offended him again?
But his gaze remained direct as he gave a curt shake of his head.
‘There was no need for such nonsense in the Zokari army,’ he explained.
There was distain in his tone, but she found his reply refreshingly blunt. An appreciative laugh burst out of her mouth.
