CHAPTER FOUR
HERWHOLELIFE she’d been waiting for other people. For her dad to return home safely, before his nightly blackout occurred. And then for Akeem. She’d waited for him before...only to be given a firm reminder never to rely on anyone but herself.
Akeem hadn’t bothered to turn up back then—because why would he? He’d got what he’d wanted. Her surrender. Her body. And then whoosh. He’d been gone. And that had been that until he’d wanted something...
She pulled the tunic top over her head and thrust her arms into the full sleeves, then bent to pull her underwear on. The dampness of Akeem’s kisses still clung to her panties, making her pause and making her heart hammer. She picked up the trousers and pushed her toes in with force.
All the relationships she’d known had been take, take, take, and that was why she’d never give her heart again. Ever. Because she had nothing left to give. To anyone. Maybe not even to herself.
She’d wanted a night—one night—when her needs came first. Hers. And look where her stupid desire to be selfish had led her.
She wanted to go home.
She was done with waiting. Done with the promise of soon. Life was now, wasn’t it?
Opening the bedroom door, she looked down the long corridor with doors on either side. Was that a staircase?
She moved towards it and grabbed the balustrade. Her bare feet connected to a smooth surface resembling reflective glass, and she descended to be met with another lounge of sorts. More beige sofas sat parallel to the staircase that spiralled into the room, reclining chairs, TVs, and—
Subtle vibrations teased her bare toes, and she flexed them against the smooth veneered floor. The vibrations got heavier, pulsing at her insides. There was a door in the middle of the floating staircase. And the white column descending through the middle was a...a lift.
It was!
The white lift’s doors slid open slowly—the polar opposite to her pumping heart. Holding her breath, she stood rooted.
‘Why are you hiding down here?’
Dressed and unruffled, Akeem appeared before her. Perfectly perfect in every way.
Something inside her snapped.
Caring for her dad had taught her to listen first and react later—in private—but not now. She wouldn’t wait. She wouldn’t hold back.
She couldn’t.
She was going to cut herself loose from the control she’d so carefully maintained to keep her standing every time her dad lashed out or berated her for simply being.
She stirred her legs into motion, moving towards him with purpose. Her body was unstoppable as it realised its aim. It was thrilling—intoxicating. Surreal. Her stomach muscles hardened. She’d never felt so calm and yet enraged before.
Charlotte raised her arm, closing her fingers together to create as much surface area as possible on her open palm, and—
Akeem caught her wrist in mid-air. ‘You will not strike the King.’
‘I’m not striking the King,’ she hissed, the pressure of her raised arm keeping her face only millimetres from his mouth. ‘I’m about to slap you—the man. Not the King with golden sheets and an aeroplane bigger than a high-rise flat. You.’
‘The truth is always hard to hear, but they are one and the same.’ He pinned her wrists and raised them to the sides of head, then moved in until they were nose to nose. ‘Striking me is an arrestable offence.’
‘Why break a habit of a decade?’ she spat between tight lips. ‘Why not take me to the police station right now and leave me to fend for myself, the way you’ve always done.’
He recoiled, breaking the contact of their over-sensitised bodies. ‘I have never left you,’ he corrected, his nostrils flaring as he half turned his body away from her.
She laughed, a hiccup of a sound, as she pushed herself free from the cold metal at her back. ‘You just did!’ She raised her hands and dropped them with a smack to her thighs when he didn’t respond. ‘Take me home, Akeem.’ It was a hushed plea. ‘Now.’
‘You can’t leave.’
‘Why? Does the plane need fuel?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Then why not?’ she asked, eyebrows high. ‘You’re the King. Make it happen.’
‘I am not King yet, qalbi.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘How they found us...saw me...’ He inhaled deeply, his shoulders widening as he seemed to grow bigger—taller. ‘It was in a moment when I forgot my duty and became what I fear most.’
‘Like your dad?’
He opened his mouth only a fraction, and she watched as his lips moved without sound. His lips thinned, and he nodded. ‘Their catching us together will reinforce the doubt my people have. They think my rule will follow in his footsteps. That just like him my needs will come before my country.’
‘Aren’t they right?’ she asked, before she could stop herself. ‘You wanted to hide me—sneak me in and out of your bed—just to fulfil your needs.’
‘I know what I did.’
‘Why did you do it?’ she asked.
His eyes held fast to hers. ‘I couldn’t help myself.’
‘Neither could I,’ she whispered. ‘But that doesn’t tell me why.’
‘Can you explain what happened?’ he asked. ‘The intensity?’
Couldshe? Nine years had passed between them—it seemed like a lifetime but still...no, she couldn’t.
‘But if you didn’t want to be seen with me...’ Her stomach muscles tightened. He didn’t want to be seen with the daughter of an alcoholic, did he? A nobody. She wasn’t his future Queen—she was a mistake. But she needed to know why he’d taken such a risk. She hadn’t asked before—she’d been too focused on her own reasons. Her own need to put the past behind her. ‘Why did you put yourself in such a vulnerable position to be caught in the first place, when it was the last thing you wanted to happen?’
‘My father had a lifetime of being reckless for his own amusement—’