Anticipation chased away any hint of apprehension. His large hand settled on her breast with a confidence that allowed her not to be afraid. She broke the kiss so she could lean her forehead against his shoulder while he cupped her breast in his hand.
His touch was gentle and slow, but more wonderful than anything she’d ever experienced before. It was as if he knew the best way to touch her, to stroke her. When he moved his fingers across her nipple, she gasped and clung to him.
He moved his free hand to her chin, raised her head, then kissed her again. She held on to him as the room began to spin faster and faster. When he finally stepped back, she wasn’t sure she could stay standing.
His eyes were dark as night, but bright with a fire that burned as hot as the one flaring inside of her. She’d never seen sexual need on a man’s face before, but she recognized it now. Recognized it and knew that somehow she had caused it.
He wanted her. It was magic and filled her with delight and wonder and a sense of feminine power. Now if only she knew what to do with it.
“Kayleen.”
He’d spoken her name dozens of times before, but never with his voice so heavy and rumbling. She wanted this, she thought happily. She wanted this and so much more.
Somewhere in the distance she heard people talking. She remembered they were in his office and she had interrupted his day. The realization made her unsure of what to do next.
“I should, ah, probably go,” she told him, wondering if he would ask her to stay.
“Do not worry about the king,” he said instead. “My father is very pleased with you.”
“How do you know? Have you talked to him?”
“I have no need. You are exactly what he wants you to be.”
What? But before she could ask for an explanation, As’ad’s phone rang. He glanced at his watch. “A teleconference with the British foreign minister.”
“Right. Okay. I’ll see you later.”
She walked back to her room, wondering what it all meant. The kiss, the intimate touch, As’ad’s comment that she was what the king wanted her to be. Did that mean a good nanny? A tidy guest?
Yet more reminders that this was a foreign world and not one she was likely to be comfortable in. She should be eager to escape. Yet there was a part of her that wouldn’t mind staying for a very long time.
“You summoned me?” Lina asked as she breezed into the room. “And don’t say you didn’t. There was a definite command in your message.”
“I won’t deny it,” As’ad told her, motioning to the sofa in the corner and joining her there.
“Am I to be punished?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye.
“You are my aunt and the woman who raised me. I have great respect for you.”
“So I’m in serious trouble.”
She didn’t sound worried, but then why should she? He would never do anything to hurt her. Despite what she’d done, he had trouble being angry with her. Not that he would let her know that.
If he was annoyed with anyone, it was with himself for being too blind to see what was happening. It had been obvious from the beginning and he hadn’t noticed.
“Shall you go first or shall I?” Lina asked.
“I called you here.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have an agenda.”
He nodded. “Please. Begin.”
“I spoke with Zarina the other day. You claimed Kayleen as your own.”
“For the moment. She created a stir in the village. I did not wish things to get awkward.”
“You kissed her.”
That damn kiss, he thought grimly. It had created nothing but trouble. The second kiss had been worse. Now he knew the passion between them had not been brought on by too many nights alone. It flared as bright and hot as the sun. He ached to claim Kayleen’s body. But her innocence and position in his household made the situation complicated.
“To make a point,” he said with a casualness he didn’t feel.
“So that explains it,” Lina murmured. “You have no feelings for her yourself.”
None that he would admit to. “No.”
“So if I wanted to introduce her to a pleasant young man, you would be agreeable?”
“I would,” he lied, picturing himself ripping off the man’s head. “But it will not be an issue.”
“You’re saying I don’t know any young men, but you are wrong. I know several. One is an American. I mentioned Kayleen to him and he thought he would like to meet her. Did you know it’s nearly Thanksgiving?”
“Nearly what?”
“Thanksgiving. It’s an American holiday. I had forgotten myself, but the young man in question mentioned getting together with Kayleen that evening. They would both be missing home and could connect over that.”
Missing home. Kayleen would, he thought, and so would the girls. They would miss the traditional dinner.
“I will arrange it,” he told his aunt.
“Kayleen’s date?”
“Of course not. Thanksgiving dinner for her and the girls. A traditional meal. I’ll speak with the head chef right away.” He turned his attention back to his aunt. “As for your young American, I doubt he exists.”
“Of course he does.”
“Perhaps, but he is not intended for Kayleen. You have other plans for her.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. But while we’re on the subject, Kayleen is lovely, isn’t she? I met her the first time I volunteered at the orphanage. She’d been here all of two weeks and yet had already settled in. I was impressed by her intelligence and her dedication to the children. She has many fine qualities.”