‘Shall we swap?’
At the sound of his low voice she swung round, hugging Oliver close.
Far from planning to leave, Ashraf hadn’t even bothered to dress. Tori’s skin tingled with a blush as she fought to stop her gaze going lower than the mug he held.
She’d never been particularly bashful, and until today rarely blushed. Maybe that was due to her father’s demands that she accompany him to public events from an early age. Or because female geologists were still outnumbered by men. As a result she’d learned to hide anything that might be viewed as feminine weakness.
Ashraf put the steaming mug down on a chest of drawers and reached for Oliver.
‘He’s almost asleep.’ Tori hugged him closer, as if the baby could protect her from unwanted feelings.
‘Good. I’ll hold him for a little, then put him down while you have your drink.’
Remembering the look on Ashraf’s face as he’d watched Oliver, how could she resist? Tori passed the baby to him, supremely conscious of her nakedness under her nightie and Ashraf’s bare arms brushing hers.
Not that Ashraf noticed. His attention was all on Oliver as he paced to the window, stroking the baby’s head with one big hand. Something dipped hard in Tori’s chest and she turned away, picking up the mug and taking a sip as she sat down.
‘This is good!’
‘No need to sound surprised. Even kings can boil water.’
She liked the teasing lilt in his voice too much.
‘I expected tea.’
Dark eyebrows lifted as he caught her eye then turned away, rocking Oliver. ‘I didn’t know how you took it, and I didn’t want to interrupt, so I made my own favourite.’
‘Lemon, honey and...’ she paused, taking another sip ‘...fresh ginger?’ So simple yet so delicious.
He nodded, but kept his gaze on their son.
Tori drew a shaky breath and confronted the reality she’d fought from the moment Ashraf had told her his intentions.
‘I’ve been thinking.’
‘Yes?’
His head lifted, gleaming eyes pinioning her. It didn’t matter that Ashraf was more than half naked and holding a sleeping baby. He looked as powerful as any sovereign in full royal regalia.
Anxiety feathered her spine but she kept her gaze on his, refusing to be intimidated.
‘I can’t marry you.’ She watched the corners of his mouth fold in, as if he was holding back an objection. ‘But I understand your desire, yourrightto be involved in Oliver’s life.’ Her heart pattered faster as she made herself continue. ‘I’m still not sure about him being a prince, though. Surely when you eventually marry your legitimate children will inherit?’
‘I told you I can legitimise Oliver. I intend to. And I have no intention of taking any other wife.’
Heat flashed through her like a channel of lava, incinerating more of her defences. It shouldn’t make a difference, but when Ashraf spoke like that part of her enjoyed it—though it was ludicrous to believe he cared about her as anything other than Oliver’s mother.
Of course he’d marry. Some glamorous princess who’d charm his people and give him a bevy of children.
Something sharp lodged in Tori’s ribs and she had to breathe slowly to ease the spike of discomfort.
‘I’m not entirely convinced becoming Crown Prince of Za’daq is what I want for him.’
Ashraf’s brow corrugated and his mouth tightened. Tori wondered what he wasn’t saying. That it wasn’t up to her to decide such things?
‘Because you believe my country is unsafe? That’s understandable, given your abduction, but believe me, that’s not the case now.’
‘That’s part of it, but not all.’