by Dani Collins
“When I look in a mirror, I see my sister, so I always love what I see,” Angelique said wryly. “But the things that make me feel pretty are things I can literally feel. Soft fabric and my hair loose on my shoulders. Laughing. Showing my husband my new lingerie.” She cast her gaze to the sky, making them chuckle. “But I did make a career in helping women feel confident and beautiful. You have incredible skin, Hannah. And nursing mothers have a built-in advantage. Look at Fern making the most of what’s she’s got.”
“Use them ’til you lose them.” Fern sat taller, straining the buttons on her bodice.
“What are you wearing tonight?” Angelique asked. “Can I come help you get ready?”
“Do a makeover?” Hannah shook her head. “It would look like I’m trying too hard.”
“You don’t need to be anything but who you are,” Angelique said firmly. “You’re perfect. But I miss playing dress-up with my sister. It’s great bonding time and I do know a few tricks that might help you feel you’re getting the most from your wardrobe. Please?”
The word “bonding” got her. She needed friends, so she nodded, hoping Nura would be able to tone things down if Angelique went too far.
Fern elected to stay back and call her sons, so Hannah promised to see her at dinner and nervously brought Angelique back to her apartment.
Akin believed in diplomacy over combat, which wasn’t to say he wouldn’t resort to combat if it came to that. Tonight was meant to be ambassadorial, but there was every chance his actions would be seen as aggressive. They were definitely tactical.
He had invited three of the most powerful kings in his region for an unofficial meeting he had billed as a social opportunity to introduce his wife to theirs. None of them were stupid. They knew more was afoot or they would have had more notice.
To call them friends would be an overstatement. They were traditional allies and all well acquainted from years of attending weddings and funerals, coronations and the occasional crossing of paths near a desert border.
They were also circumspect men who would make up their own minds. Whatever opinions they shared outside the palace after this visit would carry a great deal of weight around the globe.
After tonight, Baaqi would either be seen as vulnerable, with a weakened king and no confirmed ruler, or in steady hands with Akin at the helm.
Akin brought each man into his father’s chamber to briefly pay his respects, king to king. His father’s ill health and lack of interest in continuing to reign was painfully obvious.
Afterward, they all convened with drinks in a private lounge reserved for mingling with exalted guests such as they were.
“Take heed, men,” Zafir said as they clinked glasses. “Our fathers stood like this at one time and thought they would be our age forever.”
“We should be so lucky as to enjoy a long life,” Karim said. Both he and Zafir had lost their fathers when they were young.
“It’s sobering to confront mortality at any time,” Kasim agreed with introspection. “I’m reminded of my own father in his later years. The delicate tightrope that has to be walked.”
It was an acknowledgment of the difficult position Akin was in, finding the balance between his father’s right to rule, his regal pride, and the fact he simply no longer had the capacity to do it.
“It’s an equally difficult balance to be the uncle who raises a king,” Karim said with a nod of acknowledgment to Akin that was also a subtle warning. “Mine was much like you. A firm, steady influence who modeled the devotion to duty I’ve carried with me to this day.”
We know what you’re doing, Karim was saying. We’re watching and can make things uncomfortable internationally if we don’t like what we see.
“At least you were old enough to have learned basic manners,” Akin said dryly. “I held Qaswar the other day when he visited my mother and walked around the rest of the day wondering, what is that smell?”
“Ah. The bewitching aroma of new father. I’m likely wearing it myself,” Zafir said with a grimacing glance at his own shoulder.
They chuckled and moved on to discussing other matters, but Akin knew he was still on trial. If Qaswar had not existed, Akin would have been recognized as the rightful heir and allowed to take control without question.
He was not, though. There was a baby who held that title and these men wanted reassurances this was not a power-grab that could destablize the entire region. They would bring their own armies to stand behind the infant against Akin if it came to it. Without their support, Akin had nothing.
Which was why he needed to push Hannah into the spotlight, despite her voiced reluctance to be anywhere near it. Until Qaswar was old enough, she was the placeholder to whom Akin would demonstrate his dedication. It was a play to reassure the public, but it was sincere. Ironically, his life would be so much more straightforward if Qaswar hadn’t existed, but Akin couldn’t find any regret in him that the boy did.
A subtle knock announced the women were joining them.
Akin suffered a moment of concern. If Hannah walked in looking hurt and ill used, he would have to take a completely different tack, starting with banishing any catty queens who had dared to claw at his little mouse. She might not be the most glamorous wom—
As the hostess, Hannah led the parade of graceful beauties and Akin’s mouth went dry as she moved with assurance among them. As one of them.
His heart swelled with such pride he could barely see over his chest.
They all wore long dinner gowns. Hannah’s was bronze and poured down her voluptuous figure like caramel syrup over ice cream. It offered a generous view of her upper chest and coated her hips, puddling in a small train behind her. Her hair had been trimmed and reshaped into a smooth cap and was topped by a small tiara that leant her an air of quiet sophistication.
Her glasses were gone, her lashes decidedly false, but her smile was genuine and so filled with confidence that he was utterly dazzled. She wore heels and came across to him with a roll of her hips that was every man’s wet dream.
“My wife. Princess Hannah,” he introduced as she arrived at his side. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her somewhere private to ravage her. For days.
She greeted each man in turn with a personal comment. “Your daughter is so precious. I’m hoping Fern can coach me on how to raise such a happy baby... Galila was telling me about your country’s literacy endeavors. I’m looking forward to stealing all her inspired ideas... Thank you for loaning me Angelique this afternoon. She’s been so generous and has been enduring my practice of very rusty Spanish.”
Every single one of the men managed to keep his eyes on her smile, but Akin knew that despite the fact that each was completely enamored with his own very beautiful wife, they all noted Hannah’s loveliness. Any male with a pulse would.
He experienced a surprisingly deep stab of possessiveness as he perceived it and closed his hand over hers in a blatant claim that was a betrayal of his inner barbarian. Not like him at all to feel it or reveal it, but he couldn’t stop himself.
They all chatted a little longer before moving into the small dining room, where a square table put each couple on a side so as not to put a prince above a king, even though Akin was the host.
“No glasses?” Akin murmured as he seated Hannah.
“Contacts. That’s why I’m blinking like a first-class flirt.”
She was and it was adorable. Probably the sexiest thing she did, however, was reveal how incredibly intelligent she was. As conversation meandered from mild gossip about a scandal at the boarding school Zafir’s son attended to complex political issues, Hannah listened attentively, asking incisive questions and offering smart, fresh perspective.
It was the most relaxed and genuinely social evening Akin had experienced in recent memory. When the women rose to retire for the night, they kissed each other’s ch
eeks and promised reciprocal invitations soon. Akin would have dismissed it as a meaningless courtesy, but their husbands backed them up.
“We’re in England next month, but will you accompany Akin when he attends our trade forum in June?” Zafir asked with a glance at Akin, who nodded. “I’ll arrange rooms for you at the palace.”
Akin had rooms booked at the hotel where all the meetings would be held, which would be more convenient for him, but this was the seal of approval he’d sought with tonight’s dinner, so he said, “Thank you. We’d be honored.”
Hannah wouldn’t say that she magically felt beautiful and confident and fit to be a queen after eating dinner with royalty, but she did feel less of an imposter after spending the day with those women.
Galila had been raised a princess, but even though she looked amazing, and wore the title of Queen without any seeming effort, she’d confessed that pregnancy had taken a toll. Hannah had very much identified with that.
And how could she not relate to Fern, a single mother’s daughter with education her only real asset, who had accidentally become pregnant by a man with royal blood?
Then Angelique had been so warm and encouraging and an absolute genius about the colors and styles that best suited Hanna’s figure. The whole evening had gone so well that Hannah was unable to focus on anything but the positives.
It had added up to the boost she needed to step into the role Akin demanded of her. Well, the public role, anyway. She had since held a tea for a handful of chairwomen running charities the Queen sponsored, and had accompanied Akin to a ground-breaking for what would eventually be Baaqi’s parliament buildings.
Her private role as his wife was making her wring her hands with nerves, though.
She hadn’t actually seen her husband since the night with the royals. A land use dispute at an oil field had taken him away for two nights and he’d been up early this morning, texting that he was needed in his office and couldn’t breakfast with her, but...
Come by my office on your way to yours.
She did, but even though things had been going really well between them, butterflies invaded her stomach when she heard his voice as she was shown through the catacomb of offices occupied by his assistants and advisers and approached the one that was his.
It was an imposing room that reflected his military service in its ruthlessly practical decor. A handful of dignitaries were leaving so there were introductions all around before she was left with only him and two of his assistants, both anxious to pour water, slant the blinds so the light wasn’t in her eyes, hold her chair and fetch cake and coffee if she so desired?
“I’m perfectly comfortable, thank you,” Hannah assured them.
“Close the door on your way out,” Akin ordered dryly.
Hannah waited until they’d done so before brushing her scarf off her hair. “Far be it from me to complain, but you may have made too big a deal about their giving me every consideration.”
“No one offers me sweetcakes with my coffee,” he grumbled.
“Because they know you eat the hearts of your enemies with your morning coffee.”
“I’ll eat certain sweetcakes.” His hungry look was not an appetite for food. “If they have a sprinkle of spice.”
“Flirt,” she accused, blushing as she looked to the closed blinds.
“You started it, coming in here with that chic haircut that makes me want to muss it up. How much longer do we have to wait, ya amar? Did you see the doctor while I was away?”
“Yes.” She had an urge to open the neck of her blouse and let some of the heat against her throat escape. “He gave me an IUD and said it’s effective immedia—”
Akin hit a button on his desk. A distant buzzer sounded and the door promptly opened. A young man poked his head in. “Sayidi?”
“Clear both our schedules for the rest of the day.”
“What?” Hannah blurted.
“Nem, sayidi.” The door closed.
“I didn’t think—I wasn’t—” She cut herself off, unable to form words as Akin stood and held out his hand to her. The heat in his eyes made her throat go dry. “Right now?”
“I don’t intend to seduce you here,” he drawled. “Not this time, anyway. Not our first time. But I’ve been thinking about this long enough that if I have to spend the day in a state of anticipation, I’m liable to last about five minutes when we get to the good part. Come.”
CHAPTER TEN
SHE NERVOUSLY PUT her hand in his and he drew her to her feet. Then he kissed her, just once, and her heart raced as he smiled conspiratorially, as though they shared a secret.
They did, as it happened. He used his thumbprint to unlock a door and showed her into a private passage, which took them past an unmarked door that she vaguely suspected was the throne room. She got turned around after that. They passed an emergency exit and went up and down a few flights of stairs. He had to use his thumb on three more doors, or they would have been trapped in dead ends. She didn’t see one camera.
“You’re not lost, are you?”
He sent her such a pithy look she chuckled away her nerves.
“I had to ask. We’re going to need a tent and campfire soon.”
“This is why I don’t commute this way. I had these security doors put in place myself so I have no one else to blame, but these passages had ceased to provide the privacy they were designed for. When I was a child, Eijaz and I played hide-and-seek for hours here, but servants began using them as a shortcut. Doors were being left unlocked and propped open. Today, however, they allow me to steal my wife to my own chamber, with no one the wiser.”
He touched a final sensor and a wooden panel swung inward, revealing that this particular entrance was disguised by a bookshelf inside his den.
“Almost no one,” he corrected as a bearded man in a white tunic and plain cotton pants appeared in the doorway, a surprised look on his face. “My butler, Ulama. The Princess and I do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Unless the baby needs me,” Hannah added as the man dipped his skullcap-covered head in a bow and evaporated.
“He will need me, you know.” Not for a while and it might be time to see if he would take a bottle, but she would make that decision when her phone buzzed.
For the moment she was fascinated to be in her husband’s private space. Like his office, this place didn’t have a lot of froufrou touches, but the soothing colors made it a place of retreat. He had windows looking out into the real world, not just the courtyard, which briefly distracted her.
“You don’t have a dining room,” she noted. Only a table in a nook that offered a view of the desert. She and he shared a chef, though. She knew that much.
“I don’t entertain. You have the dining room and the bigger lounge for hosting family gatherings. Everything else is hosted in the formal rooms of the palace.”
She would have dismissed this as a bachelor’s apartment, but when they arrived in his bedroom, she saw that it was even bigger and more sumptuous than her own. He had a massive bed and a full sitting room with a window overlooking the pool area. There was also a screen of greenery, but she still had a moment of shyness when he stood behind her, clasped her shoulders and kissed her neck.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, lifting his mouth as he sensed her tension.
“What if Nura can see us?”
He moved away to touch a button on the wall. Bone-colored drapes whispered from the corners to cover the glass while the room remained softly lit.
“Don’t you have blackout blinds so you can sleep if you have to?”
“Yes. But I want to see you.”
She shook her head in automatic rejection, linking her hands nervously as he came back to her. “I don’t want that.”
“No? Then how will I see this dimple of yours?” He tilted up her face and set his thumb in the mi
ddle of her chin. “It appears when you’re digging in your heels. It frustrates the hell out of me, but it’s so damned cute I always want to kiss it.”
He was barely moving his thumb, but it felt like the most erotic caress. The heat in his eyes scrambled her brain.
“I want to make love, Akin, I do.” She heard the plaintive note in her voice and hated herself for being so insecure. “But I have a lot of hang-ups about sex. I never felt attractive or like anyone really wanted m-me.” Her lips trembled despite how hard she fought to speak evenly. “I know that no one is perfect, and you don’t expect me to be perfect, but I’m still really scared that I’ll disappoint you, either in the way I look or my lack of experience...” She shrugged to encompass all the many ways she could fail to measure up.
He didn’t laugh or dismiss her. His dark brows quirked with concern. “I’ve been nothing but satisfied and delighted every time I’ve held you. I hope you know that. I hope you’ve felt the same?”
“Of course, but that was only fooling around. I got to keep my clothes on.”
His mouth pursed in thought, then his hand moved to her neck. “Let’s try this.”
He unwound the silk scarf she had draped over her hair this morning. It tickled her nape as he gently slithered it free. He made a band of it in front of her eyes and started to tie it over them.
“Wait! No. You should wear the blindfold,” she protested, catching at his strong wrist.
“I’m the one who wants to see, ya amar. You’re the one who doesn’t want to see my reaction. You’ll feel it, though. I promise you won’t have any doubt how desirable I find you.”
He waited a beat, then stepped closer so he could see behind her head. He smoothed her hair out of the way before he tied the scarf in place. When he dropped his hands, they lightly traced her spine, drawing her into him so she could feel he was already aroused.