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“It won’t.”
The determination in her voice made him hesitate. He cautiously watched her face as he set her down gently, sliding her feminine curves along his length. For once her expression showed nothing. Her eyes veiled her feelings. Usually her eyes would darken with righteous indignation, glow with rapturous delight and twinkle with every emotion in between. The sudden change in her behavior troubled him.
He wanted to hold her close until he could read her thoughts, but Lacey had other ideas as she moved away from him. “Can you stand on your own?” he asked.
“Yes.” She took another step back and shucked off her cloth boots. The movements lacked her usual energy.
He kept one hand outstretched in case he had to catch her as he started the shower full blast. Hafiz turned his attention on Lacey and quickly divested her of her black caftan.
“Lacey!” His startled hoarse cry echoed in the small room. The sight of her barely-there peach lingerie was a shocking contrast against the conservative cloth. Hafiz’s body reacted immediately. The heavy black material dropped from his fists and flopped on the wet floor.
“What?” She inspected her arms and legs. “What’s wrong?”
He cleared his throat, wishing he could also clear the sharp arousal tightening his body. “You’re supposed to wear several layers of clothes under the caftan.” He unhooked the front closure of her bra, his knuckles grazing her breast. He saw the tremor in his hands. He was acting like a callow youth.
“Are you kidding?” She skimmed the high-cut panties down her legs and kicked them aside. “I would boil alive.”
His gaze traveled as the peach satin landed on the black fabric. The searing image branded in his mind. The way he would look at women in the shapeless caftan was forever changed. He swallowed roughly as he controlled his baser instinct. “What if you had gotten caught?”
“No one would have found out. You are the only person who has shown enough nerve to get that close.” She arched her eyebrow in disapproval.
And he was going to keep it that way. “Here, get under the water.” He pulled her to the showerhead.
“Oh! Ow!” Lacey squealed in dismay as the icy cold spray hit her body. She jumped back and rubbed her hands over her arms. “This is so cold.”
“You’ll get used to it in just a minute,” he replied as he always did to her comments on the lack of heated water. The familiarity calmed him while her beaded nipples made his brain sluggish.
“You can leave now,” she said through chattering teeth. She looked away from him and tested the temperature by dipping her foot in the cold water.
He leaned against the door and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t want you passing out in the shower.”
“I won’t. Now go before your royal gown gets soaked.” She shooed him away with her hands.
She had a point. The bathroom, already hot as a sauna, was in the traditional Rudaynahi design, with the exception of a European commode. The concrete floor had a drain and was also to be used as the shower floor. Since there was no plastic curtain or glass shower door, the water was already spraying every inch of the bathroom.
“If you’re sure,” Hafiz said and flashed a wicked smile. “But I can just as easily take it off.”
She glared back at him. “I’m sure.”
His smile turned wry at her ungracious rejection. He shouldn’t have made the offer. He knew that but went for it anyway. “I’ll be outside,” Hafiz said. Lacey didn’t respond as she stuck her head fully under the spray.
He stepped out of the bathroom and almost collided with the housekeeper who carried a small tray into the bedroom. The tall frosty glass of juice rattled against a plate of figs and dates.
“How is she doing?” Annette asked as she set the tray on the bedside table. “Do we need to call a doctor?”
“No, she’s not sick.” The uncertain look of the older woman irritated him. If he truly felt Lacey needed medical care, he would call the American doctor who’d already discovered that cashing in favors from a prince was worth more than any currency in a country that relied heavily on the bartering system.
