Lynn Harris - Gambling with the Crown

Kadir seemed to relax slightly, as if he’d believed for a moment she might actually refuse him. His hands slid almost sensuously down her arms, left a trail of flame in their wake. Her skin prickled and tingled. She wanted to shrug away, to get out of his grasp—and she wanted to move closer at the same time.

“There are only two things left to do in order to seal this deal.” His voice was like silk and she shivered in response.

His hands dropped away then, but before she could breathe a sigh of relief, he reached up to cup her neck. Then he drew her forward as her heart hammered. Her feet moved as if he was the one in control of them rather than her.

“Wh-what?” She cursed herself for sounding nervous—but he was touching her, and apparently that made her light-headed.

“First I have to fire you,” he murmured, his gaze focusing on her mouth as she came in contact with the broad wall of his chest. Her hands went up automatically, rested on the soft cotton of his shirt. He was hard and warm beneath the fabric. She knew he went to the gym, and she knew what his body looked like beneath the cotton. Firm, tanned, beautiful.

No, she told herself. You don’t care. You haven’t cared in four years.

She had to focus, had to concentrate on what he was saying rather than on what he was doing. She could not lose her perspective here. “What’s the other thing?”

His eyes glittered and one corner of his mouth lifted in what could only be termed a self-satisfied smile. “I have to kiss you, Emily.”

CHAPTER FOUR

SHOCK RIPPLED THROUGH her like a wave. It was quickly followed by a pang of heat and longing that nearly took her breath away. Kadir pulled her more firmly against his body, and then his head dipped toward hers. She closed her eyes automatically, her heart hammering so hard she was going to be dizzy.

Kadir was going to kiss her. Her boss for the past four years, the man she’d served across continents and time zones without one single moment of inappropriateness, was about to kiss her.

Just like he’d kissed Lenore Bradford yesterday and a million other women before her. Emily had watched the revolving door of his life for far too long. She’d seen the women come and go. She’d walked many of them to the door herself as they clutched their handbags. Half the time with their wadded-up panty hose trailing from their purses as they took the walk of shame.

She’d witnessed it and, if she was honest with herself, she’d been utterly judgmental. What kind of idiot woman got herself involved with a playboy sheikh? Oh, she knew what they all thought. What they hoped. That they were the one. The one he would marry and make into his princess.

Sure, some of them just wanted sex, the same as he did. And that was fine. She didn’t pity those women, the ones who knew what they wanted and what they were getting.

The majority, however, were the other kind. The dreamers and schemers and hopefuls.

And she was not about to become one of them.

Emily shoved against his chest. His grip immediately eased and she stepped backward, out of his grasp. Her chest rose and fell as if she’d run a marathon. She wrapped her arms around herself, embarrassed at the effect he was having, and moved farther away.

Her wineglass was waiting on the table, so she picked it up and took a gulp. Then she faced him again. He looked oddly on edge, like a tiger waiting to pounce.

“No kissing,” she said hoarsely.

“I’m afraid that is a condition I cannot accept.” He sounded so cool, so calm, as if touching her hadn’t meant a thing to him. Which, of course, it hadn’t. His pulse wasn’t racing like hers. His breath wasn’t a struggle. She was simply another female to him.

“You have to.”

He shook his head, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Impossible, Emily. I can hardly be besotted with a wife I never kiss, now can I? Besides, you have already agreed. You cannot change the terms of the agreement afterward. That is bad business.”

She clutched the wineglass like a lifeline. She knew he was right, but dammit, why hadn’t she thought of it before? Why hadn’t she made it a condition?

Because it’s stupid, that’s why. Because he’s paying you to be his wife, and husbands kiss their wives.

“Fine, you can kiss me. But only in public. Only when it’s necessary for the illusion. No touching in private. No kissing either.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Are you that afraid of me, Emily? Worried about what kissing me will do to you?”

Heat flared beneath her skin. “With all due respect, Your Highness, you really need to get over yourself. It’s not professional, is all I mean. I’m your partner, not your lover.”

“So no mixing business and pleasure, I take it?” He sounded amused, and it irritated her. Was there really nothing she could say that bothered this man? That got to him the way he was getting to her?

Maybe she should have been more blunt with him much sooner. But she’d always tried to be cool and professional and detached. She hadn’t wanted camaraderie with him. She’d wanted nothing but her job and her paycheck and the satisfaction of performing her duties better than anyone he’d ever employed before.

She’d wanted to be indispensable to him—and she’d wanted to be the one he trusted with his business life. She hadn’t wanted to kiss him or touch him or, heaven forbid, lie naked in a bed with him.

To do that would be like picking up a treasure map, pointing right to the place that said “Here Be Dragons,” and saying, “This is where I want to go.”

No, not going there. Not ever.

“Precisely.” She tried to sound like her usual cool self, but there was a hint of hot color in her voice. She could hear it vibrating. She didn’t like it.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. It was such a casual move, and yet he looked no less intense—or delicious—than a moment ago.

Stop.

“All right, we’ll do it your way. For now. No touching unless necessary for public consumption. Which, by the way, includes my staff and anyone in the palace in Kyr. I expect this to work, Emily.”

The tightness in her chest seemed to ease a bit now that she knew he wasn’t going to try and tug her into his arms again. “I know that. And I will do my best.”

“You better do more than that.” He moved toward her with an easy grace that made her think of leopards slinking across the savannah. He stopped before her, hands still in pockets, intense gray eyes roving over her face. “Because if you don’t, Miss Bryant, everything is going to change. And then you will be out of a job for real.”

* * *

When dawn came, Emily didn’t know what to do with herself. She started to get up and get dressed as usual, prepared to go to Kadir’s suite and wake him as always—but then she remembered that he’d fired her. That she was no longer his employee.

Temporarily, of course. But as much as she wanted to adhere to her usual routines because they gave her comfort, she had to play a different role in his life right now. She’d spent the last several years learning to be sensible and efficient and now she was at loose ends. It was strange.

So, instead, she lay in bed and tried to go back to sleep. It didn’t work, in spite of the way she’d tossed and turned last night. She hadn’t slept because she’d been remembering Kadir standing in her room, looking so lost and alone and handsome, and asking her to marry him. And then he’d taken her in his arms and tried to kiss her.

Her heart did a little skip-and-slip thing every time she thought of that moment when she’d closed her eyes and felt him dipping down to press his mouth against hers.

But she’d panicked and pushed him away and now she couldn’t stop wondering what she’d missed. If she’d made a mistake.