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A little niggling voice inside him said he should ask to be taken off the team guarding her. And he’d do it, too, if he felt his objectivity had been compromised. But he was handling it like the professional he was. Wasn’t he? And he’d hate like hell having to tell anyone—even Walker—why he wanted off.
No, he’d see the assignment through to the bitter end. He’d never called it quits on an assignment before, and he wasn’t about to start now. No matter the cost to himself.
* * *
Mara had been teaching for six weeks when she woke to a Monday morning world of swirling white. She stood at her bedroom window, marveling at how the landscape had been transformed overnight. She wanted to bundle up, go outside and frolic in the snow as she had done when she was a little girl. She longed to be young enough to catch snowflakes on her tongue, to be pulled on a sled by a laughing Andre, to make angels in the snow.
A tap at her bedroom door startled her out of reverie. “Come,” she answered automatically in Zakharan, refusing to take her eyes from the winter wonderland outside, and the happy memories it invoked.
Mara’s personal assistant entered and spoke a few soft words in Zakharan, dragging Mara back into the here and now. Her heart skipped a beat as she retied the belt of her robe and told her assistant, “Bring him.” But before she was prepared Trace walked into her bedroom.
Trace stopped short on the threshold, transfixed by the sight of the princess standing by the window from which she’d drawn the drapes, with her hair hanging around her shoulders in glorious sleep-tousled waves. He’d only seen her once in person with her hair down like this, and she’d quickly bundled it back up, but the photo of her with Suleiman and her hair loose was one of his most cherished possessions.
His eyes slid from her hair downward, taking in the soft fleece of the pale green, floor-length robe that hugged her curves like a lover. Like he wanted to do. A wave of heat slammed through him, and it was all he could do to remember why he was there. “Good morning, Princess,” he said finally. “We have a slight problem.”
“Yes?” Her voice was early morning husky, and sent tendrils of desire streaming everywhere through his body.
Trace ignored the feeling, ignored the unmade bed that gave him forbidden ideas and pointed to the snow swirling outside the window. “How much experience do you have driving in snow?”
“Oh,” she said blankly. “I did not think of that.” She turned away to stare wistfully out the window. “I was just remembering when I was a little girl.”
When she said the words Trace saw a vision of her as she must have been when she was young and carefree, before her world was bounded by protocol and paparazzi, and tenderness was added to his desire. But that tenderness was even more dangerous than the desire he was barely able to control.
“That’s why you have me,” he said. And when she threw him a puzzled glance he clarified, “To think of these things. So how much experience do you have?” As soon as the words left his mouth he realized the unintended double entendre, and hoped the princess wouldn’t realize what his question could be referring to.
Her startled eyes met his, and he could see by her sudden intake of breath that she hadn’t missed a thing. She stared at him across the room, and Trace knew nothing had changed since the day she’d touched his lips on Mount Evans. She was as vibrantly aware of him as a man as he was of her as a woman. Maybe even more so. “None,” she admitted finally, her voice low and trembling.
For just a second Trace wondered which question she was answering. “Then...” He cleared his throat. “Then it’s probably best if your chauffeur drives us to and from school today.” He held up his hand before she could dispute him. “Trust me on this, Princess.”
“I was not going to object...I am not stupid,” she said with some heat, lifting her chin in the obstinate way she had the first day. “I was merely going to say I do not mind if he drives the SUV.” She stared at him for several seconds as varied emotions flitted across her face, then added, “I would not risk my life...or yours. Not until I have more experience.” She took a deep breath, as if gathering her courage, and walked slowly toward Trace until she was standing right in front of him. “Will you teach me?”
Desire roared back in full force, and he longed with all his heart to be the one to teach her. Not just how to drive in snow, but how to please a man and be pleased in return. To teach her what her body was capable of, to awaken her desire to the point where she knew what hunger was, the way he hungered for her. He longed to sink his body deep into hers; to carry her with him on rising waves of passion until the whole world disappeared, leaving only the two of them...and their need for each other.
