“I’m not sleeping with you,” she blurted out.
Gabriel’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “Miss Espina, I’m shocked.”
Serafia chuckled softly, the laughter her only release for everything building up inside her. She arched one eyebrow at him. “Shocked that I would be so blunt or shocked that I’m turning you down?”
At that, he smiled and she felt her knees start to soften beneath her. Much more of that and she’d be a puddle in her Manolos.
“Shocked that you would think that was all I wanted from you.”
Serafia crossed her arms over her chest. She barely had room for the movement with Gabriel so close. She needed the barrier. She didn’t believe a word he said. “What exactly were you suggesting, then?”
His jewel-green gaze dropped down to the cleavage her movement had enhanced. She was clutching herself so tightly that she was on the verge of spilling out of her top. She relaxed, removing some, if not all of the distraction.
“I’m feeling a little caged up. I was going to suggest a jog around the compound followed by a dip in the swimming pool,” he said.
“Sure you were,” she replied with a disbelieving tone. “You look like a man who’s hard up for a good run.”
He smiled and she felt a part deep inside her clench with need. Desire had not been very high on Serafia’s priority list for a very long time. She was frustrated at how easily Gabriel could push her body’s needs to the top of the list.
“The king’s health and well-being should be at the forefront of the minds of the Alman people. Long live the king, right?”
“Long live the king,” she responded, albeit unenthusiastically.
“So, how about that run?”
The way he looked at her, the way he leaned into her, it felt as if he was asking for more than just a run. But she answered the question at hand and tried to ignore her body’s response to his query. “First, you need your ceremonial dress tailored. It will take a couple days to get it back and we need it before we leave. Then you can run if you like.”
“And what about you? Don’t you need a little rush of endorphins? A little...release?”
“I exercised when I got up this morning,” she replied. And she had. Every morning when she woke up, she did exactly forty-five minutes on her elliptical machine. No more, no less, doctor’s orders. Her treadmill at home was gathering dust, since running was out of the question unless her life was in danger.
His gaze raked over her, making every inch of her body aware of his heavy appraisal before he made a sucking sound with his tongue and shook his head. “Pity.”
He dropped his arm and took a step back, allowing her lungs to fill with fresh oxygen that wasn’t tainted with his scent. It helped clear her head of the fog that had settled in when he was so close.
The persistent chirp of his cell phone drew his attention away and for that, Serafia was grateful. Apparently Gabriel’s harem of women were lonely without him. Since they’d begun this process four days ago, he averaged a text or two an hour. Most of the time he didn’t respond, but that didn’t stop the messages from coming in. She didn’t care about what he’d been involved in, but she couldn’t help noticing all the different names on the screen.
Carla, Francesca, Kimi, Ronnie, Anita, Lisa, Tammy, Jessica, Emily, Sara...it was as if his phone was spinning through a massive Rolodex of names. His little digital black book would be ungainly if it were in print.
“I’m going to go see if the tailor has arrived,” she said as he put the phone away again. “Do you think you can fight off all your lovers long enough to get this jacket fitted properly?”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes at her and slipped his phone into his pocket. “You sound jealous.”
Maybe a little. But that was none of his concern. She would deal with it accordingly. “Not jealous,” she corrected. “I’m concerned.”
He frowned at her then. “You sound like my father. Why would you be concerned with my love life?”
“It’s like I told you that first night, Gabriel. Your life is no longer your own. Not your relationships or your free time or even your body. You can’t drive your sports cars around like a Formula One driver and put the king’s health at risk. You can’t party every night with a different woman and put the future of your country in the hands of a bastard you father with some girl you barely remember. You can’t waste the realm’s money on the hedonistic pleasures you’ve built your whole life on.”
“From what I learned in school, that’s what most kings do, actually.”