I need to write this down. She reached for her purse and grabbed her cell. She took a picture of the name, to study and Google it later. A sound of footfalls spilled acid in her stomach. Oh no. She quickly closed the guest book, clasped her clutch, and walked back to the front. With each step, she willed herself to drop her shoulders a notch, to loosen her arms, to appear more relaxed by the time the guard found her.
“Izzy?” A voice much sexier than the guard’s echoed in the space.
“I’m here.” She erased the distance between them, walking up to Nassor.
With that fancy robe over his pants, he looked absolutely charming. Regal.
Awareness branded her like a tattoo. She regarded him and clasped her bag as a shield from any emotional entanglements. Sex. This was just sex. A flicker of an emotion she couldn’t read flashed in his eyes, and he angled his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
“I’m a man of my word.”
A pang of regret stabbed at her. Damn it. Why did things have to be so complicated? “You’re a king now. I feel naughty for stealing you from your duties.”
“If you want to be naughty, I’ll give you other things to be naughty about.” He pulled her into his arms, and she willingly embraced him, losing herself in that invisible bubble of warmth. She breathed in his scent, a mix of bamboo notes with an irresistible dash of exotic spices. He skated his hands down her ass, pulling her to him until they molded into a sinful position.
“Can you tell me something, my lovely lady?”
She bobbed her head, unable to part her gaze from him. “Yes.”
“What the hell were you searching for in the guest book?”
Chapter Seven
Color drained from Izzy’s face, and she disengaged from him.
Nassor rested his hands on his waistline, not moving an inch. Disappointment traveled through him. When he’d finally made his way to meet her in the library, he was pumped and aroused. Then, when he entered, a quick look at the security cameras strategically placed to the right showed her eagerly searching for some information in the guest book. Hell, she’d even taken a picture.
“It’s a long and complicated story, but I’ll try to make it simple.”
“Make it clear and true. That’s what I need.”
The vein in her neck pulsated. “Of course.” She threaded her fingers together, avoiding looking at him. Izzy from Vegas…a liar? Was she no different than the other people who needed things from him—who planned on using his new title for their benefit?
A wave of frustration washed over him, and his heart skipped a beat or two. When it resumed doing its job, it didn’t have the kick of adrenaline or excitement wherever she was concerned. No. He swallowed the dry lump in his throat. For some very odd reason, he’d expected more from Izzy—even if he hadn’t known her for long.
She eyed him, flickers of determination gleaming in her eyes. “My stepmother was called Mary Roberts. She raised me after my adoptive father died. I loved her.” Emotion must’ve welled up inside her, because she tapped her neck a bit, her throat visibly working. “Over a year ago, she traveled to Gwokon to meet a man she chatted with online. Name’s Obasi Akenzua. She returned to the States dead.”
“How long was she here?” he asked, picking his brain to remember if he’d heard anything about the case. He hadn’t been involved with the administration of the kingdom then, and possibly the authorities had kept the subject out of the news. Uncle Feruzi usually did whatever possible to keep away from scandals, even if that meant jeopardizing the truth.
Tears brimmed her eyes. “Five weeks. At first, we talked every other day, then communication became scattered.”
He reached for a box of facial tissue on the table and handed it to her. “How did she die?”
She took a few pieces of tissue and glanced at them, quietly. “She was found by a river with needles in her body. She wasn’t an addict, had never been. I believe it was a ploy.”
He scratched his head. He’d removed the crown before walking up to her, but it seemed now like double the weight pushed down his shoulders. “Ploy for what?”
She wiped the tears, sniffing, and then lifted her chin. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”
She’s here to find out. He closed his eyes, rubbing them and wishing this all went away by the time he opened them. A beat later, he peered at her. She threaded her fingers together, then snapped her hands apart and stared at him. “How do I come into play?”
She stepped forward. “I entered the virgin auction to get money to hire a lawyer and a detective and learn about her true death. I knew a lot of men from Gwokon attended the auction, and of course knowing someone from here would be to my advantage on the off chance my buyer were Gwokondenese. I swear, I didn’t know you were a king,” she said, looking at him square in the eye. He stepped back, glancing around, trying to find answers before voicing the questions. Hell, a part of him wanted to believe her—which in itself scared him more than believing her.
He drew a breath, unsure. “Why were you looking in the guest book?”
“In one of the few times we chatted, Mary told me she visited the castle when she first arrived. I came to find the address where she stayed.”
“Have you?”
