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‘I thought you said this was just a matter of self-control and discipline,’ she said breathlessly.

‘It is,’ he said against her ear, absorbing her delicate shudder deep inside his body. ‘But I’m all out. You?’

When she glanced up at him he read the answering response in her diluted pupils and this time he didn’t need her verbal okay. It was written all over her gorgeous face. ‘I’m not sure I ever had any.’

Cassidy glanced around at the front of the secluded sandstone building Logan had pulled up in front of. She was already having doubts about the intelligence of agreeing to sleep with him again but it was so easy to stem the trickle of unease.

He made her feel sexy and irresistible and she was simply intoxicated by the thought of exploring the chemistry between them once more. Reality would intrude at some point and she’d deal with it then but for now...

She glanced over as Logan secured the bike beside the brick wall. ‘I thought we were going back to the palace?’

He pulled his helmet from his head and stowed it with hers on the bike. ‘You know when I said that a king rarely has any privacy? At times it will feel so oppressive it will be claustrophobic. But right now I have a moment. A weekend. And I don’t want to spend it at the palace where I’ll be available to anyone who wants me. Tonight I’m going to turn off my phone and do what I want to do.’

‘You make it sound like it will be the last time that can ever happen.’

‘It won’t be the last—it is possible to sneak away now and then, and even the King gets holidays—but the weight of responsibility will never be far away, and I’ll always be on call.’

‘So what is this place?’ She looked up at high arched windows that denoted the buildings of Moorish heritage.

‘My cousin’s apartment. He’s in Tahiti, surfing, right now so he won’t mind if we use it.’

‘He might not but I can’t see your security detail letting you stay here without first making sure it’s secure.’

‘I know.’

Just then the ancient wooden door to the interior garden opened towards them and two soldiers with machine guns strapped across their torsos stepped outside.

‘All clear, Your Majesty,’ the female soldier said, taking the lead.

‘Thank you. I’ll let you know tomorrow when we’re ready to return.’

Moving with a lightness that belied the weight of their heavy-duty equipment, the soldiers left them alone.

Curious to see what a surfer’s place would look like, Cassidy followed Logan along a stone path dotted with green ferns into an elevator that took them to the top floor. The apartment didn’t disappoint. Low sofas in burnt orange, dark square tiles on the floor, a magnificent view of the white yachts in the harbour from the arched windows. When she looked closer she could see that all the appliances were state of the art, and ready on command, as evidenced when jazz music filtered into the room through hidden speakers at Logan’s voiced request.

‘Do the curtains also open and close on command?’ she asked, moving into the kitchen and perching on the edge of a wicker stool.

‘Of course.’ Logan popped the cork on a bottle of wine he’d pulled from the wine fridge. ‘My cousin loves his gadgets.’

He poured them two glasses and raised a toast. ‘To secret rendezvous.’

Cassidy’s heart did a mini-somersault inside her chest, her gaze dropping to his mouth.

The air between them became charged and Logan slowly lowered his glass to the bench top. Then he rounded the counter and took hers from fingers that had turned nerveless.

Without preamble or finesse he lifted her onto the counter and reached up to drag her mouth down to his.

Cassidy felt like her body went up in flames, her fingernails digging into his thick, soft hair, her moans trapped in her throat as he fed her kiss after kiss.

‘Por Dios, Cassidy... Mi hermosa mujer... Mi amor...’

Logan’s litany of Arrantinian love words tightened her nipples into unbearably aching peaks.

Feeling wanton and unlike herself—or maybe more like herself than ever before—she raised her arms and dragged her blouse up over her head, letting it flutter to the counter behind her.

Logan’s eyes were hooded as he watched her, his gaze hot as it travelled from her face to her collarbone, his fingers trailing gently after, raising goose bumps wherever he touched her.

‘Take your hair down,’ he encouraged, his tone low and deep.


Tags: Michelle Conder Billionaire Romance