by Marie Tuhart
Anna clapped her hands and Catherine jumped. The room fell silent and all eyes turned to the queen. “I believe that Catherine should be allowed to decide who she wants to escort her.”
Now all their gazes focused in on her, and she barely prevented a groan from escaping. The last thing she wanted was to be the center of attention. Yet she’d been thrown into the deep end without knowing how to swim.
Be diplomatic.
“I don’t want to take anyone away from their work.” What else could she say? That she preferred to be alone and not have an escort? While this was a progressive country, she was aware women were very much protected by their families.
“Since it’s in Malik’s job description to escort anyone visiting the royal household, the job is his,” Jamal said in a stern tone.
“Oh, but—” Catherine stopped. What could she say? That she didn’t want Malik escorting her because she was afraid of the feelings she had for him? Nope, that wouldn’t work. Pasting a smile on her face, she said, “That’s fine.”
“Good, that’s settled,” Jamal said. “Now, shall we talk about something more interesting, like who is going to win the World Cup this year?”
Catherine breathed a sigh of relief, and her nerves settled down as attention was diverted from her, until Malik leaned over and whispered, “I can’t wait to be alone with you.”
Her blood pressure shot off the chart as her body went on high alert. This was not good, not good at all. Only a few whispered words from him and she wanted to melt into a puddle. She shifted slightly away from him.
She needed to escape. “Excuse me, all. I’m feeling a little tired, so I think I’ll retire.” Even to her ears it sounded like an excuse, but she needed to get out of the room and away from Malik. She had to rebuild her defenses before tomorrow morning, or she’d be in real trouble.
Malik was the crown prince, she was a nobody, but it was more than that. She was positive the press followed him around like a hound dog on the scent trail, and she didn’t want to deal with reporters or their invasive questions. No, it was better to nip this in the bud before it even began.
“Of course,” Anna said. “Sleep well.” Everyone but Anna stood as she rose and walked out of the room. It only took her a few minutes to arrive at her room, if one could call it that. It was more like a small apartment.
In the living room, she began to pace. What was she going to do? Her blood heated every time she was with Malik in ways it hadn’t done in years, and it wasn’t as if she’d lived like a nun. She’d dated since Jamie, but none of those men had affected her this way.
Enough; she needed to put Malik out of her mind. She could deal, didn’t she always? Oh, but sometimes she wished she didn’t have to. She’d love to just let go and not worry about how she was going to be viewed.
Wait, she’d done that once, and it hadn’t worked out so well. Catherine picked up her cell phone and checked the time. Ten at night here in Bashir and eight in London; good. She pulled up her contacts and hit the call button.
“Catherine!”
“Hey, Sara.” She was so happy to hear her best friend’s voice.
“How’s it going?” Sara’s voice was bubbly.
“Good. I … ” Catherine shook her head.
“Something is up, you’ve only been in the country barely a day. What’s going on?”
“You’d better get comfy.”
“Already done. I got off shift at four today, so I’ve been home for a while.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Sara was a nurse and sometimes worked crazy hours.
“So, tell me, how is the royal family? Anything like ours?”
Catherine laughed. “They’re very easygoing and friendly. Not that the British royal family wouldn’t be, but … I don’t know, they’re different. I think it helps that the queen is British.”
“Ohhh, that’s nice. So what about the princes? Are they handsome?”
“Handsome, hot, and sexy.” Awareness slid through her veins. “The crown prince especially.”
“Now, that sounds interesting, tell me more about him.”
“Malik is sexy, flirty and … he kissed me.” Heat warmed her face.
“Already, damn, he moves fast.”
“It’s not like that.” Catherine told Sara all about the meeting at the airport, the kiss, the press, and meeting back at the palace.
“How are you dealing with the paparazzi?” Sara was well aware of her aversion to the press.
“Not well. But, Sara, he’s the crown prince, I shouldn’t be lusting after him.”
“Why the hell not?” Sara’s voice held a note of irritation.
“I don’t need a high-profile relationship. This job is high-profile enough.”
“I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, your past is your past. Let it go and move on with your life. Nothing is going to change if you don’t.”
Catherine sighed. “I honestly know that, but making it a reality is really difficult at times.” She rubbed her forehead. “How are things going at the hospital? Are you still having trouble with that one doctor?”
“I’m not the only one.”
Thirty minutes later, Catherine hit the end button on her phone, feeling better. Her talks with Sara always made her feel that way. Catherine made her way into the bedroom and changed into her nightshirt, then fell onto the mattress. But instead of falling asleep, she lay there reliving the kiss at the airport and the feelings it awoke. She turned over and over again. After an hour, she gave up, climbed out of bed, and pulled on her robe.
Why couldn’t she get Malik and his kiss out of her head? The feel of his lips against hers lingered, and the subtle taste of mint teased her tongue. It wasn’t fair. Crossing the room, she flung open the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony.
The night air was warm and carried the scents of jasmine and plumeria. She made her way to the railing and gazed out at the garden and courtyard below. Beyond that was the desert.
What would it be like to ride out there? How had it been years ago when the land was untamed? Her mind turned to history, thinking of the Bedouin people wandering the desert, and within minutes she was lost in her thoughts.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, but finally a sense of peace came over her. Maybe now she could sleep.
She turned and froze.
Malik leaned against the balcony railing, watching her. When their gazes met, a frisson of heat slipped up her spine, and her nipples tightened.
5
The instant she spotted him, surprise lit up Catherine’s eyes, which was Malik’s intent, and it pleased him. But then, instead of pleasure, her expression turned to tension. Disappointment knifed him in the chest. He’d have to change her reaction to him, and fast. Admittedly, he’d been watching her for a while, making no attempt to conceal himself, but not wanting his presence known either.
He enjoyed observing her undisturbed. She’d been totally oblivious to his presence, and it had allowed him the privacy to study her, to enjoy her as a regular man, without the usual considerations normally expected of him.
And he liked it. Liked being able to observe her uninterrupted. Maybe it was more, like how unguarded she was. She’d been lost in thought, staring out at the desert, and for the first time since he’d met her, she’d looked at peace.
Of course, the way her robe hugged her body made him want to trace those subtle curves with his hands. Slowly push the robe off her shoulders and caress her silky skin. Would her nipples pucker? Were they a dusky rose color or more like ripe strawberries?
Malik sobered at the thought. She was a guest and should be treated with respect. Hospitality was in some ways the strictest protocol of his culture. Everyone from the humblest desert nomad to the king observed the ancient traditions of treating a guest with the highest honor.
Even as part of him recognized this fact, another part continually relived their kiss at the airport. While he was kissing her, he’d been merely a m
an, not the crown prince, but a man enjoying a kiss with a beautiful woman. And he wanted more. More of her kisses, more of her. All of her.
“I didn’t realize anyone was out here,” she said.
Malik pushed away from the railing. “I should apologize for disturbing you.” She shivered as he stepped closer. “Are you cold?” He frowned.
The night air was warm to him, but that didn’t mean it was to her.
“No.” But her body shook again.
If she wasn’t cold, what was making her shiver? Her breath grew shallow and her eyes larger. His gaze swept over her body. Her nipples were pressing against the fabric of her robe in hard little peaks. She was aroused. She was shivering from excitement, not cold. He hid a smile. She wasn’t as unaffected as she’d like him to believe.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable tonight.” He was taking a shot in the dark, but his mother had chastised him for flirting with Catherine, possibly causing her to retire early.
Catherine shrugged and her robe slipped, giving him a peek at her creamy skin. His groin tightened as he found himself without the right words. A first for him. He usually knew exactly what to say to a woman.
“You’re different from other women.” He stepped closer to her.
“In what way?” Her back stiffened. Damn, she misunderstood him. “Well?” she asked, tilting her head to the side while staring at him.
He barely resisted the urge to plant kisses along her exposed neck. His forefathers had the right idea when one of them saw a woman he wanted—capture her, carry her off to his desert tent, and make her his. He drew in a deep breath. He needed to soothe over the nerves he’d bristled with his words, and then he’d go about wooing her.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “You treat me like a regular man, not the crown prince, not the future king.”
Her eyes softened. “Go on.”
The struggle to find the right words frustrated him. “Usually, people are so concerned about offending the crown prince, they forget there is a living, breathing man beneath all the trappings.”
“A man who would prefer people treated him as they would anyone else instead of the crown prince.”
Her insight shocked him, but it was true. “You understand?” The answer was in her kind eyes. A sense of relief and satisfaction at being understood filled him.
“Yes.” A cloud passed over her features, as if she remembered something unpleasant. Then it was gone. He was about to ask her about it when she resumed talking.
“But you are the crown prince and people look up to you. They want to be like you. They put their hope in you.”
Maybe she didn’t understand completely; disappointment scraped over his skin. “Yes, people do look up to me, but they also forget the man beneath. A man who has the same wants, hopes, and dreams as any other man.”
He was close enough to her now that the heat of her body transferred to his. The subtle scent of vanilla tickled his nose. Ignoring the warning echoing in his head, he maneuvered his body around so her back was to the railing.
“Malik,” she said, as she pressed her palms against his chest.
He stifled the urge to close his eyes in bliss at her touch. His heart thumped and his blood hummed in excitement at her nearness. A woman had never affected him like this, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. But right now he didn’t care. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. He traced his fingers over her face, from temple to jaw, before dipping and exploring her throat. Her neck arched, allowing his questing fingers to continue their journey.
He’d been right. Her skin was silky smooth. He detested having to leave the delicious satin of her skin when the pads of his fingers met her robe. He slid his hands over her arms and past her fingers until his palms framed her hips. He frowned.
She was daintier than he’d realized. He would take care when he took her to bed, and maybe even more. His blood heated thinking about having Catherine in his bed, possibly spread-eagle, waiting for him.
“So beautiful,” he whispered before lowering his head.
She opened her mouth and relaxed into his body when their lips touched. Ambrosia. And he needed … no, wanted more. He ran his tongue over her moist lips before slipping inside for a proper taste.
Her arms crept up around his neck as his tongue played with hers. Touching, entwining together before retreating. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he encircled her waist, pulling her tight against him as he deepened the kiss.
Their tongues played with each other as his fingers spread out over her butt. She was small, but he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. His body grew tight and hard thinking about how she’d look once he stripped her clothing from her. His cock jumped.
Catherine stiffened and broke away from the kiss. Malik gazed down at her flushed face and dreamy eyes. She was aroused; good. He wanted her that way. He buried his face in her hair. Lemons. Her hair smelled of lemons.
Nudging his way past her tresses flowing around her shoulders, he found the nape of her neck. He kissed it softly, before allowing his tongue to take a taste.
“Malik.” Her voice was husky, and she wiggled in his embrace.
“You’re delicious,” he said against her neck before again swiping his tongue over her peachy-tasting skin. His lips skimmed up to her ear, and his teeth tugged on the lobe, before pulling it into his mouth to soothe the tiny bite with his tongue.
Her body trembled against his as her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders. She pushed against him. With a silent sigh, Malik raised his head to look at her flushed face.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said.
“Why not?” Her eyes were bright with passion and something else—fear? Was she afraid of him? Impossible. But another side of his brain kicked in, reminding him that she didn’t know him. While he would never harm a woman, her caution was warranted.
With great effort, he reined in his libido and stepped back, releasing his hold on her. His body protested, but he ignored it. “Catherine,” he started.
She shook her head, and with a whispered, “I’m sorry,” she darted around him and into her room. The doors clicked shut, and the snap of the lock seemed harsh in the night air.
Malik stood there, trying to rationalize what had happened, but it wasn’t working. Women never ran from him. Ever. What had frightened Catherine so much that she needed to flee?
As he made his way back to his room, he tried to analyze her reactions. Had some man hurt her? His fingers clenched. The fear in her eyes was real. But what they’d shared on the balcony was special and something he’d like to do again.
Upon entering his room, he stripped and headed for the shower. Right now he needed to cool off, and the sooner the better. How many cold showers would be in his future as he continued to spend time with Catherine?
The icy spray chilled his body, but not his mind. There was something he couldn’t name about Catherine that made him lose all rational thought. Made him want to do crazy things, like kissing her until neither of them could breathe, or carrying her off on his horse into the desert and shackling her to his bed to have his way with her. To make her cry with pleasure, lots of pleasure.
He let out a groan as his cock flexed against his body. Never had a woman gotten under his skin this quickly, and at a time when he should be concentrating on his country. Tomorrow he’d find out why she was frightened of what had happened tonight, because he couldn’t stand the thought of her being scared of him.
But right now he had a more urgent need to take care of. He fisted his dick and began pumping. He needed some relief or he’d never sleep tonight.
Catherine stood inside the doors of her room, shivering until she heard Malik’s footsteps fade.
What had she done? Mortification filled her. She wasn’t a tease. Yet she’d barely known Malik a day and she was ready to jump into bed with him.
Another shiver worked its way up her spine. Would Malik take charge in the be
droom? Somehow she couldn’t see him not. It had been a long while since she’d wanted a man to take control of her in bed. But Malik hit all her buttons. His clean masculine scent teased her senses, and the impression of his erection branded her.
From that brief encounter, she could tell he wasn’t a small man. Oh, my, she tried to slow her breathing as she crossed the room and grabbed her sketchpad and pencil before shedding her robe and climbing back into bed.
Within minutes, she’d sketched Malik, shirtless, in leather pants, holding a flogger with a sexy, dominant smile on his lips. Oh, hell. She closed the pad and set it and the pencil on the nightstand.
It couldn’t happen. She flipped off the light and snuggled under the covers. She was here to work, not have a kinky affair with the crown prince. Even if he was interested. And what about the press? Oh, Lord, if they got a hold of this, she didn’t think she’d survive it this time. With Jamie it had been bad enough, with Malik … a disaster of biblical proportions.
Yet she understood his request about being seen as a man. How many times as a child had she wished people would see her for who she was, not who her parents were? Even as a teenager, the attention had never stopped. She’d been so happy to leave that life behind her.
Then there was Jamie. A sad smile crossed her lips. Jamie, her free-spirited, loving friend. Oh, so many of the press thought they were a couple, but Jamie was nothing but her best friend. She missed him so much. He’d been the one person she could really talk to, and he wouldn’t judge her or tell her she was a failure.
Catherine sighed. Going over old ground wasn’t going to help her. Tomorrow she’d keep things on a professional level, even if it killed her.
6
The next morning, Catherine grimaced at her reflection. She’d tossed and turned the rest of the night, her dreams filled with a kinky Malik. She didn’t have a clue what she was going to do. Sometime during the endless night, she’d admitted to herself she stood no chance against her attraction to him, and he was a complication she didn’t need. She was here to do a job, attraction or not.