“You hardly have any accent.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “How about you? Have you always lived in your country?”
“Yes. I lived in the United Kingdom for a year to learn English, but other than that, I’m a committed citizen.” A committed royal. Well, he had to prove himself. Being the son of his uncle’s sister, the one who had a child out of wedlock, didn’t make him a favorite to the crown. Yet, according to sexist laws, he was the next in line. His mother couldn’t be a queen because policies mandated a man must rule.
The door opened and he led her through the foyer. “What would you like to drink?” he said, heading toward the wet bar.
“Anything,” she said to him, then glanced around, seemingly fixated on the grand decor, accented with different shades of gold and top-notch furniture. She studied a tall vase standing on the floor that looked like an abstract version of a flower.
He opened a bottle of red wine and poured the smooth drink into two glasses. He removed the distance between them, then handed it to her. “Cheers.”
She lifted the glass to her lips. “Cheers.”
He grabbed his phone and, using the app for VIP guests, texted the concierge, asking them to send dinner to the suite. After he finished, he sat the phone on the table. Sighing, he removed his jacket and undid his cufflinks.
Izzy glanced at the sparkling water of the pool in the terrace. He basked in her feminine shape, or hell, her feminine presence in his suite. She didn’t know anything about his title or, better yet, his country. During the days he’d met with a few dignitaries in the United States, more women than he could count approached him and flirted with him.
But he declined any implied or explicit offer. What if one of them had been a journalist, determined to get a scoop on the impending change of power in Gwokon? He couldn’t. His mother had dishonored the family, and he had a lot of making up to do. His days as a free man were over.
He walked up to her. “Tell me why you’re a virgin, Izzy.” Not the smoothest ice breaker, but certainly a woman her age living in the States had to have had opportunity for sex? Curiosity stabbed at him.
She didn’t turn to him, but the planes of her back stiffened, stretching the corset. “Does it matter?” she said in a clipped voice.
He nudged her shoulder, making her spin on her heel and stare at him. “I don’t do well with bullshitting. You’re a young, attractive woman. Just tell me.”
She clutched the wineglass in her hand, studying the red contents. Then, she took a generous amount of it, so much a little bit dribbled down the corner of her mouth. A knot formed in his throat, and he wanted to reach out for her, kiss her and lick her lips. “I never met my biological father. My mother was an addict and gave up on me, and, unfortunately, my adoptive father died a few years after he adopted me. I learned to be self-reliant and my focus was on studying, and finishing high school, then college.”
Though she spoke with the nonchalance of a much less important subject, the vein in her neck pulsed. His heart clutched a bit. Damn. He could feel her pain, even if she tried so hard not to show it to him.
“You’re a survivor. I admire that.” His father had always been an absent loser, and now more than ever, Nassor appreciated his mother—she’d done her best, after she’d been shunned by her family for years, and had no emotional support.
“Boys were never my priority.”
“What about the auction? What made you change your mind?” Besides money.
She caressed the rim of the glass. “When I heard about it, I thought I’d never make it. A lot of women are far prettier than me. I wanted to see if I’d get picked.”
Because she’s not used to getting picked. Sadness clogged his throat. Hell, growing up, he hadn’t been the family’s favorite, either. The bastard son got shunned from most royal events, until recently when his mother married his father—after decades of a dysfunctional relationship.
“What’s on your mind?” She put the glass on the table and studied him. For the first time, a pang of insecurity laced her voice.
He shook his head, eager to will the naive thoughts about their similarities aside. Don’t feel bad for her, a voice inside him warned. Despite her difficult childhood, she’d managed to get a degree and would have access to a lot of cash after this thing between them ended. A lot of people weren’t so lucky—like his late friend Jonah.
“You.” He took a swig of his wine. Best to keep reality in check. He touched her cheek, outlining her jaw. She quivered under his touch, and he leaned closer, enjoying her response.
Desire gleamed in her eyes. He cupped her face, looking deep into her soulful gaze.
He dipped his head down and covered her lips with his—in that instant, a thread of arousal powered through him with an intensity he’d never experienced from such minimal contact. She parted her mouth, and he thrust his tongue inside. Izzy squirmed against him, softening and leaning into him. Blood pounded through his veins, rushing down his cock, swollen and hard.
She circled her arms around him, and he took advantage to dive deeper into the kiss, exploring the corners of her mouth, meshing his tongue with hers, and stoking the fire brewing in his gut. This woman…
She caressed his hair, making his scalp sizzle with awareness. The burning sensation traveled down his body, fast tracking all his cells. Unable to resist, he sucked her lower lip, releasing it with a pop. Her sexy moan filled the air.
His heart thumped, and he kissed her again, this time hungrily, as if she’d be taken away from him if he stopped. She matched his passion, plastering her soft, warm body against him. Adrenaline boiled in his veins, giving him the sense of being alive he’d missed for the past weeks—maybe even longer.
The sound of a clearing throat made him slowly disengage from her. With his breath still labored, he turned around to find the uniformed server standing by the immaculate cart filled with silver trays of food.
“I apologize for interrupting, Your Majesty. Would you like me to serve you?”
