Less than an hour earlier, the royal fashion stylist had marched into her room accompanied by a high-maintenance hairdresser and a third person whose job title Izzy still didn’t know.
The trio made her try on four different dresses and were quick to choose the winning gown she now smoothed her hands over—a deep forest-green dress that draped her body like a second skin. They’d paired it with a golden clutch that sparkled every time she touched it, and matching high-heeled shoes Izzy barely managed to balance on.
All she’d gotten from Nassor had been a text about getting ready for a party. God, how could he commit to a bunch of wives when he had not enough time for one bought lover? Why do I care?
Because he’d kept his word. He’d helped her, gave her time on his first official day as king and visited that B&B with her. The words from him still echoed in her ears. He hadn’t felt like this before. She bit her tongue, even though the idea was in her mind and not her voice. Maybe he said those things to every woman—part of his bedroom skills. Pillow talk.
A knock on the door made her jump, yanking her from her musing. Another short knock followed, and a jolt of excitement moved through her. She’d come to recognize the way he knocked on her door, those two short and precise thumps automatically putting a smile on her face.
She opened the door.
Lord have mercy.
Shivers of desire raced down her spine. Wearing a crisp all-black tux, including the modern bow tie, he looked good enough to feast on right now. A lascivious smile formed on his lips, the hint he might think the same about her.
“Good evening, Your Highness,” she said. A few feet from him, his assistant spoke into a sleek earpiece, probably arranging for them to make their way out of the wing and the castle. Surely, they wouldn’t arrive in the same car. That’d be too carefree and inappropriate. “I didn’t know you’d make it all the way here.”
“You’re my guest tonight,” he said, stretching out his hand.
She angled closer, tilting her head to the side. Had she heard him correctly? A guest? The last night she’d been a guest had meant staying mum for hours and sticking out like a sore thumb at a party where she didn’t belong. Why did he talk like it’d be different tonight? “Yes, I was also a guest at the coronation. I’m a guest at the castle and everywhere I go.”
A flash of amusement gleamed in his eyes. “You’re going with me. In the same car.”
“Why? Are the paparazzi on strike? Are we going to some sort of underground secret society meeting?” Why else would he want to take her along, hell, arrive with her?
He took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles. “It’s a gala dinner at the National Museum. You’ll have access to all the paintings and a private tour.”
“This isn’t fair. You’re dangling a carrot in front of me.”
“The carrot is located not far from here, my sweetheart. There’s not much dangling.”
“What if people discover my identity?”
“They won’t. We’ll go in, and I’ve given Guban a fake name in case someone asks. They can look for you online under a name like Jane Smith, and that’s it. Won’t find you and move on.”
Why would they move on? Because I’m not sticking around. The white woman from America isn’t staying for good—and people knew that. The realization caused the knotting sensation in her chest to move throughout her body. Her dress felt tighter. “Sounds good. Shall we go?”
“I love this dress,” he said the moment the driver lifted the partition. A chilled bottle of champagne sat in the silver bucket. He touched the soft fabric, mesmerized by the material.
She fixed her décolletage, her naughty nipples already puckering against the material. She’d forgone a bra, and the rich fabric didn’t outline her breasts as other unforgiving clothes might. But now, she didn’t need to glance down to feel her breasts straining and shaping themselves. “I could have used a shawl,” she said out loud.
He watched her, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. He hadn’t made a single compliment about the way she looked ever since they’d left her room and the castle a few minutes ago. All the praise she needed flickered in his eyes, and she sucked in her breath, scooting back in her seat.
“Having you arrive aroused at the event could make people think you’re not just a diplomat from the United States, but a real threat to our country.” He brought her onto his lap with one quick movement, and she put each leg on his side.
“I’d hate to make people uncomfortable,” she said, her chest rising and falling from her shallow breaths.
“You’re making me very uncomfortable right now.” He traced his index finger along her jaw, sliding it down her neck until he pressed into her main vein, which throbbed in response. “Taking care of this problem will benefit us both.”
A strand of empowerment surged through her, and she lowered her hand to the massive hard-on inside his pants. “I guess it’d be problematic if the royal boner saluted the crowd.”
He captured her lips with his. Seductively, he coaxed her to open her mouth for his sweet invasion. A moan formed in her throat, and he swallowed, turning her on even more. She squirmed in his lap, rubbing her bare pussy against his clothed cock. The warmth of his skin sifted through the fabric.
He reached for the back of her dress, unzipping it, and the top part quickly fell down, bunching at her waist. Tits exposed, with the AC blowing, another shiver raced down her spine. Growling, he cupped her breast, lifting it to his mouth, and touched the other, making invisible circles around the aureole.
Moaning, she bucked into him, clasping his head, pulling him closer. He latched onto her breast, his sinful mouth sucking and provoking hot tingles behind her nipple. She quivered with excitement and anticipation—loving how his lips felt on her, reveling in the sweet agony raising goose bumps on her flesh.
Impatient, she slid her hand down to unzip his pants, causing his tux to crease in the process. He grazed his teeth on her nipple, the sharp surface scraping her oversensitive bud. A shot of adrenaline thundered through her, spiking her heart rate, and she’d never felt more alive than now, in his arms.
