Karim swung round to find her closer than he’d expected. She’d adjusted her robe so barely a sliver of flesh showed beneath the collarbone and she was busily knotting the belt cinching her waist. As if a layer of silk could conceal her seductive body.
‘Things are moving quickly.’
That was one thing his deliberations and a second discussion with the Assaran envoy had made clear. If he was going to accept the crown he needed to act fast—before Shakroun got wind of the attempt to bring in an outsider. The man could stir all sorts of trouble.
‘I need your answer now.’
‘Oh.’ She frowned. ‘My answer.’
Safiyah looked distracted. As if her mind were elsewhere, rather than on the honour he’d done her by suggesting marriage so she could retain her royal status.
Karim gritted his teeth, fury rising. She acted as if his suggestion they marry was trivial. Not enough to hold her interest when she had more important things on her mind. And this after the insult of her desertion five years before. It was more than his pride could bear.
Something ground through him like desert boulders scraping together, the friction sparking an anger he’d harnessed for so long.
Karim had spent a lifetime being reasonable, honourable, and above all rational. He’d been trained never to act rashly. To weigh his options and consider the implications not only for himself but for others.
Not tonight.
Tonight another man inhabited his skin. A man driven by instincts he’d repressed for years.
‘What is it, Safiyah?’ He took two paces, stopping only when she had to hike her chin high to hold his eyes. ‘You’ve got something else on your mind? Is it this?’
He cupped one hand around the back of her head, anchoring his fingers in that lush, silky hair.
No protest came. His other arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her close. He had a moment of heady anticipation as her soft form fell against him, her eyes growing huge and dark as pansies.
Then his mouth settled on hers and the years were stripped away.