“Darius?”
He nearly jumped across the room when she placed her hand on his knee. Gulping, he tried to ignore the heat being transferred through his jeans to his skin. “Hmm?”
“I asked you a question.”
She had?
His brow raised. “Um, sorry, I—uh—zoned out for a moment.”
She giggled. “Apparently. I asked if we could spend some time together, when you are not working. Now that we are not running for our lives, we will need to get to know each other better—our likes and dislikes. When the palace announces our engagement, the media will want to see us in public and will be asking questions. It is best that we know how to respond.”
Darius couldn’t think with her hand on his leg. He laid his on hers, tucked his fingers under her palm, and moved both their hands to the couch next to him. Before he could let go, Tahira set her other hand on top of his. Darius lifted his gaze to hers and was startled to see tears welling in her eyes while her bottom lip trembled.
“I am sorry, Darius. You—you do not have to go through with this. We will tell my parents it was a mistake and not to announce—”
The despair in her voice and eyes was his undoing. Using his free hand, he quieted her by setting two fingers on her lips. "Shh. I made you a promise, and I'm not going to back out now. I care about you, Tahira. We’ll get through this—together.”
Her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips, but it caught the pads of his fingers as well. He knew it hadn't been intentional on her part when her eyes widened, and she pulled back a few inches. But it was too late. Darius's dick was throbbing as he stared at her mouth. What he wouldn't give to find out if her pillowy lips were as soft as they looked.
Her youth wasn't a problem for him—he'd dated women over ten years his junior before, as long as they were mature beyond their years—but Tahira’s innocence was an issue. In almost every way, she was still a virgin. She didn't remember most of her assault, and he assumed she'd never actually seen a naked man in the flesh.
A thought occurred to him. After they divorced and if she remarried, how would she explain her naïveté to her new husband?
Seriously, asshole? You're looking for an excuse to get her into your bed?
Well, technically, she'll be in your bed after the wedding. How would you both explain why you're sleeping in separate bedrooms? It was a good thing Darius could sleep almost anywhere, because it looked like he'd be spending the months after their wedding sleeping on the floor next to her bed.
Shit! Every time he thought this scheme of his was going to be easy, his mind found all the reasons why it wasn't going to be. But he couldn’t turn his back on Tahira now. Without revealing the reasoning behind the sham marriage, Darius was the only eligible male candidate. Ian and Dr. Moreau were already married.
"I care about you too, Darius." She hesitated, seemingly uncertain, but then, before he knew what she was doing, she closed the distance between them and brushed her lips against his.
His cock jumped for joy, but a stunned Darius held himself still. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the hell out of her. Maybe Ian had been right. Darius could use the time before the divorce to help Tahira get past her rape—if she was willing. They wouldn't need to have intercourse—she would probably want to wait and share that particular intimacy with the man she eventually fell in love with—but kissing and petting would give her some experience. He could even show her what it was like to have an orgasm, if she wanted him to. He would just have to take care of his own needs when he was alone.
Her voice was so soft, he almost didn't hear her. "I am sorry. I have never been so forward with a man. I do not even know how to kiss a man—I have never done it before. I am sorry if I did it wrong."
What?
Tahira moved to stand, but Darius squeezed the hand he was still holding, causing her to freeze. Her gaze was on the floor as a blush bloomed on her cheeks. He squeezed her hand again. "Tahira, look at me."
When her bottom lip quivered and she didn't move, he brought his hand to her chin and turned her head so she was facing him. Her cheeks grew even redder—her bruised one and the finger marks on her jaw still enraging him—and her gaze was on his chest. He tilted her chin up and dropped his voice to what he hoped was the commanding tone he'd heard his Dom friends use on their women. "I said, 'look at me,' Princess." When her eyes finally focused on his, he continued in a soothing tone. "You didn't do anything wrong and being innocent is nothing to be ashamed of." His thumb caressed her jawline. "In fact, I think it makes you that much more attractive."
Seconds passed as they stared into each other's eyes, and Darius found himself bewitched by her wholesome expression. Her pink tongue darted out again, and his gaze zeroed in on her plump mouth.
"Would . . . would you teach me how to kiss? I—I mean, we will have to kiss once for the public after the ceremony and I—”
Not letting her finish, Darius leaned forward and cupped her jaw with both hands, drawing her closer. He was going to hell, but damned if he could stop himself from saying, "I'd be honored, Princess. Close your eyes."
Instead of her lids shutting, her eyes grew wide again. "Why—”
"Do you trust me, Tahira?”
She nodded as best she could with her head in his hands. "More than anyone, Darius. I know you would never hurt me."
She was right. He'd cut off his left nut before ever intentionally hurting her. "Then close your eyes."
Shit, if that tongue of hers peeked out between her lips one more time, he was going to suck it into his mouth. She was killing him, but a gentile kiss was as far as they were going to go tonight. As he patiently waited, her eyelids finally dropped.
Darius shifted closer and grinned when Tahira's mouth opened, as if anticipating when his would make contact with hers, but she was going to have to wait a little while longer. It had been at least twenty years since he'd been a teenage girl's first kiss, and he didn't think he'd ever been a woman's first. He wanted to make this special for her—something she would never forget. She deserved it after all she’d been through.
One of his hands went to her temple and brushed back a few of the stray hairs that had escaped her bun. Reaching up, he released the clip at the crown of her head, letting the black, silky strands fall free. He ran his fingers through them, loving how they tickled his palm.
"What—”
"Hush, Princess. I'll kiss you, but we're doing it my way."
He dipped his head down and lightly kissed her closed eyelids. Her hands came up and found his wrists, holding onto them like a lifeline.
"You're so beautiful. So sweet.” His lips left butterfly kisses across her discolored cheek, over her pert, little nose, to the other cheek. He felt her shoulders sag and her grip ease.
"That's it. Relax and just feel," he whispered into her ear. His cock became harder when a shiver went through her body.
Down, boy. This isn't about you.
Darius nuzzled Tahira's ear a moment before kissing his way to the corner of her mouth. He brushed her lips with his own. She inhaled sharply but didn't pull away. Darius kept the kiss chaste, moving his closed mouth over her slightly parted lips, tilting her head a bit to get a better angle. A moan escaped her, and the sexy sound went straight to his groin.
Without encouragement, Tahira opened her mouth further. Keeping his control on a tight leash, Darius ran his tongue over her lips, then sucked the bottom one gently into his mouth. Her hands ran up his arms and encircled his neck. Slowly and tentatively, she began to explore him with her tongue. He flicked his own against hers.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, Your Highness! Please forgive my intrusion!”
Tahira jumped back at the interruption, breathing heavily, unwilling to face the staff member that neither of them had heard open the door. Darius had been just as affected by the kiss, but he managed to find his voice a lot quicker. Unable to stand without showing off the bulge in his pants, he turned his head toward the door. "It's okay,
Semira. Did you need something?"
The young woman's gaze was on the floor in front of her feet as she stood by the door, fidgeting. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but Her Royal Majesty is on the phone and would like to speak with you, Your Highness. They arrived home safely a short time ago."
Tahira ran her palms over her heated cheeks before glancing over her shoulder. "Thank you, Semira. Please tell her I will be right there."
"Yes, Your Highness." She hurried out the door, closing it softly behind her.
Tahira covered her entire face with her hands. When her shoulders started to shake, it took Darius a moment to realize she was laughing and not crying. The corners of his mouth pulled upward as he chuckled and relaxed back into the couch cushions. “It’s been a long time since I was caught sitting on a couch, necking with a woman like that.”
“Necking? Is that what we were doing?”
Not really, considering it had felt like a hell of a lot more than that to Darius, but he was keeping that to himself. Instead, he shrugged. “Some people call it necking, which is a little passé, others call it making out.”
“That is the phrase I have heard Americans use before—making out.” She hesitated, then slowly lifted her gaze to his. Her cheeks flamed brighter. “I liked it very much, Darius—necking with you. Maybe we could do it again sometime?” She quickly added, “To practice, I mean.”
He cupped her chin and grazed his thumb across her bottom lip, which was red and swollen from their kiss. It took everything in him not to lean in and pick up where they’d left off a few moments ago. His voice came out low and husky. “I’d like that very much, Princess.”
Yup, I’m going to hell.
23
After assuring her mother she was okay and wishing her well, Tahira hung up the phone in her father’s office. It had been a mostly one-sided conversation, because Tahira couldn’t get Darius and the kiss they’d shared out of her mind enough to concentrate. She’d lied to him earlier. As a teenager, she’d kissed two boys—but those had been experimental and juvenile attempts to figure out what all her friends had told her they’d felt when they’d kissed boys. Some of her friends claimed it was just like the romance novels they’d read, which, of course, they’d hidden from their parents at that age. Fireworks, burning passion, unable to catch their breath—things like that. But after those two sloppy endeavors with the opposite sex had left her feeling empty, Tahira had wondered if something was wrong with her.
Having no interest in women, she knew she wasn’t gay, but had wondered if she might be asexual—someone who didn’t have any sexual desires. But as she’d gotten older and matured more, she knew that wasn’t the case either. Men definitely interested her, they made her crave intimacy, but not with anyone in particular—until now. When Darius had kissed her—hell, before he’d kissed her mouth—he’d ignited something deep inside her that she’d never known existed. It was as if the missing piece of a puzzle that was her womanhood had fallen into place and her body had rejoiced. She finally understood what gave authors the inspiration for writing romantic scenes that left readers panting and wanting more. If Semira hadn’t interrupted them, how far would Darius have gone? How far would Tahira have let him go?
What had startled her even more was the flashes of color that had surrounded the man as they both recovered from the kiss. He’d always been one of those people she couldn’t get a read on, but she’d known instinctively he was one of the “good guys.” He would never hurt a woman—not intentionally—that she’d known. But for a few moments there, she’d gotten a glimpse of his aura. There had been reds, pinks, and purples, swirling together, each color fighting for supremacy. However, she’d also seen flashes of brownish mauves, which she’d come to associate with confusion or an internal battle being waged. She would have loved to have known what had been going through his mind at the exact moment those flashes had appeared, but before she’d been able to fully analyze his aura, Darius had pulled back, emotionally. Then his colors had faded, and, once more, she had been unable to read them.
There had been a brief moment of hope blooming inside her during their kiss—she’d felt a connection with him. One she’d never felt before. One that had made her wonder if she’d found him. Her soulmate.
“Your Highness?”
Tahira turned toward the door. “Yes, Semira?”
“Is there anything you need me to do?”
Glancing at a clock on the wall, she was surprised to see the late hour. It was just after 8:00 p.m. The woman who managed the Clearwater Beach mansion, and its housekeeping and kitchen staff, had been working over twelve hours today—much longer than usual, unless there was a special occasion. “No, you may turn in for the night. Thank you for your assistance today.”
“It was my pleasure, Your Highness.”
As Semira left the room, Tahira yawned. She’d dozed on and off in fits since they’d boarded the jet in Argentina. She’d expected some insomnia in the hospital—no one ever slept comfortably in those places—but she still hadn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep at a time even after arriving at the beach house. Each time her body and mind lapsed into the REM phase, her nightmares surfaced. And each time, it felt the same. A heavy weight was pressed down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Perspiration coated her skin, causing goosebumps to appear all over her body. A putrid aroma of sweat and cigarettes would taunt her sense of smell until she thought she would vomit. Grunts that seemed to come from a feral animal resounded in her ears. Flashes of sharp pain between her legs had caused her to awaken more than once with a scream pursed on her lips, ready to be released for everyone in the house to hear. Somehow, she’d always managed to swallow it back down before it pierced the air. Once fully awake, she would realize she was panting and crying quietly, and the images would fade, almost as if they had never existed. But they had—and they continued to exist—and Tahira was desperate to put them behind her.
Tomorrow, she would be meeting with Dr. Trudy Dunbar. Hopefully, the psychologist would be able to help Tahira to get past her nightmares. While much of that awful night was still a blur, her body remembered its responses to it. Would they eventually fade, or would she begin to recall all the horrible details that were locked away somewhere in the far recesses of her mind?
Getting to her feet, Tahira strode to the door and headed toward the kitchen for some herbal tea. She’d always found the brew soothing, but she suspected that would not be the case tonight. If she could only force herself to stay awake forever, never to relive the horrors of her attack again, but that wasn’t an option.
Passing the door to the library, which was ajar, she paused when Darius’s deep, rumbling voice filled the air. He was talking on his cell phone, but other than the name “Levi” she couldn’t hear what he was saying due to the distance between them and his back facing her. A shiver went down her spine while her gaze caressed his broad shoulders, strong back, narrow waist, and very fine backside. Her hands itched to touch every inch of him, as she remembered how he’d whispered in her ear, leading up to their first kiss.
. . . we’re doing this my way . . . relax and just feel.
Oh, she’d definitely done just that. She hoped she hadn’t been imagining the way her body had seemed to surrender to Darius. How he’d taken possession of her mouth like it was his to own and do with it as he pleased. How every nerve in her body had come alive at his touch and begged for more. Part of her couldn’t wait to experience all that again, while the other part was terrified about what would happen if they became even more intimate. How would she react? Would her nightmares attack her conscious mind? Would she panic and force Darius away? She didn’t want to disappoint him if he wanted to have sex with her on their wedding night, as was his right to expect.
She knew their marriage would only be temporary and one of convenience, but she wanted to reward him for helping her, for rescuing her. What better reward could a woman give the man who was her husband than to offer him her m
ind, body, and soul?
24
Darius fiddled with his cell phone, trying to figure out the right wording for the call he was about to make. He had to tell his siblings about his “engagement” before the news became public. If he was going to pull this off, he would have to make everyone believe he and Tahira had fallen for each other. One slip up and the media would be all over it, desperate to figure out what the couple was hiding. He was still trying to decide the best way to avoid having the press going after his father—it wouldn’t go over well for any reporter who tried to step on the man’s property. Darius would have to make sure his brother and sister did extra sweeps for the shotgun shells their father always seemed to find a way to get ahold of and hide in the double-wide trailer he lived in. Once a week wouldn’t cut it after the media frenzy started. The last thing they needed was for the old man to kill a trespassing reporter.
Hitting one of the speed-dial buttons, Darius placed the first call. When his brother picked up, Darius said, “Hey, Levi—let me get Barrie on the other line.” The siblings often had three-way phone chats with each other; it was easier than having to repeat things twice.
“Don’t bother,” his brother responded, sounding like he had a mouthful of food. There was a pause when he must have swallowed because afterward his voice was back to normal. “She’s right here. Hang on, I’ll put you on speaker.”
There was a click and then his sister came on the line. “Hey, big brother! What’s up?”
Darius couldn’t help the grin that appeared on his face. He loved his younger siblings and missed them at times like this. They’d grown up close, huddling together in one of their bedrooms while their parents fought about everything under the sun. While the mismatched couple had never hit each other, sometimes their words had been worse than fists. Surprisingly, Phillip and Jacqueline Knight had only taken their frustrations over their unhappy marriage out on each other. Darius had wondered at times if the doting affection they’d lavished on their children had been a sort of one-upmanship to see who could earn the title of “favorite parent.” He would never understand why they hadn’t divorced. Darius and his siblings hadn’t thought things could get any worse, but they’d been wrong. One night had changed everything.
Forty Days & One Knight: Trident Security Omega Team Book 2 Page 15