He shook his head. “No. It’s not. You were dedicated to something bigger.”
Something raw and jagged inside her began to knit itself together at his words, and while she wanted to think it was the result of being validated by someone other than her parents after all these years, she had a feeling it had everything to do with who was doing the validating.
Rolling over in his arms, she faced him, her head tilted to take him in. As always, his eyes locked on hers when given the opportunity, violet latching onto hazel like a missile on target. And, as always, the contact struck her, holding her frozen and breathless in its possession.
His expression lit with knowing as he held her, a naughty grin lifting the corner of his mouth as he squeezed her. “I like it. All mine.”
His voice carried a note of surprise, as if he hadn’t expected the truth of his own words, and she got the distinct impression that while it might not have been something he’d ever thought about before, he meant it now.
That realization came with its own thrill, and this time it was she who instigated their kiss, scooting up close to gently press her lips to his. He drew her tighter against his body and returned the kiss. Then, pulling them both more fully onto the bed, he turned her over so her back fit snugly against his chest, her rear end was tucked into the juncture of his hips, his arms wrapped around her.
Once they were settled, he turned the lights down and pressed a final kiss against the back of her neck. Quietly, he said, “Goodnight, Mina.”
“Goodnight, Zayn,” she whispered back, reveling in the feel of him all around her, on her lips, at her back, and deep in her core.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ITWASN’TTHElight that woke him—not with the thick curtains that covered the windows. Neither was it a discreet knock from a member of staff. There was no staff here at the cabin. No. It was the lush weight of warm breasts resting on his forearm, the rounded curves of female anatomy pressed tight against him, and the long shapely legs intertwined with his own that transitioned him from dreams into even more pleasant reality.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up with a woman. Not since he’d been crowned. He had been with women, of course, but it just didn’t do for a parade of women to creep in and out of the King’s bedroom. His assignations were discreet, taking place in secret locations, and were more likely to include a nondisclosure agreement than a morning-after.
To make matters more unfamiliar, in this case it wasn’t merely waking up together. It was having had breakfast and dinner together the previous day. It was a feeling of true relaxation and peace that, while he’d like to chalk it up to the location, he knew had to do with the company. It was a merging of bodies that had reached inside him and stirred things up, rearranging him from the inside out without his permission or regard. It was all that and more. And with his wife of all people.
It wasn’t safe. If he’d learned anything from his parents’ example it was that. Regardless of what his father had believed, a king must never allow anything to come between him and his country. Not even his wife. Especially not his wife. They’d all seen what could happen in the aftermath of that.
And so he didn’t stay where he was, content in a way he couldn’t remember being since he’d truly understood what it meant to be the heir to the throne, nestled happily with a woman he was bound by law to love and cherish. Instead, he eased his arm free from under her neck and head, unwound his legs, and slowly pulled away from her.
She murmured in protest, but didn’t wake—not that he’d expected her to...the previous day had been enough to tax an elite soldier—and, even though he was tempted to return, to pull her close and place gentle kisses along the back of her neck until she heated and stirred, willing and ready to greet the day with him in brand-new ways, he resisted the urge. He forced himself to step away from the siren draw of the woman on the bed and search instead for the clean pants he’d discarded the night before.
Tearing his mind from her, he forced it toward the morning. They should leave the cabin immediately. Breakfast together would be far too intimate an affair after the night they’d shared. If they prepared food and sat down across from each other again at that small table, just the two of them, he knew that the deep ease that existed between them would be ever-present, even in the face of what would be her inevitable new shyness.
She was his now, in a way she was no other man’s, now or ever.
The thought was more satisfying than it should be.
No, breakfast at the cabin would definitely be a bad idea. And if he felt a twinge of guilt at evading eating with her, he vowed to make up for it by ensuring she had a wonderful time on the island—including the full spa experience. But she would need something in her system before they set out on their short hike to the summer palace, and since she had made dinner, and he was in the mood to dote on her, he decided to put together a small bite to eat.
Satisfied with the plan, he executed it, putting the kettle on for Mina’s tea before tossing two croissants in the toaster. He then cut two thick slices of deli ham, a peach and some strawberries, before grabbing some soft white cheese from a plate in the refrigerator. Now all he had to do was make a cup of coffee and wait for Mina.
Twenty minutes later she came into the kitchen, quietly but without timidity, and he was impressed. He imagined her steeling herself, squaring her shoulders in that way that was becoming familiar, before walking into his sight. The corner of his lip lifted. Her hair was pulled into a high curly ponytail and she wore clothing that fit her for once, fresh hiking gear that consisted of purple leggings that hugged her hips and long legs paired with a snug fitted windbreaker in light gray.
“There’s tea,” he said, nodding toward the mug that rested on the counter as she neared. He’d noticed at breakfast the day before that she had taken tea over coffee, with two sugars and cream.
“Oh, thank you, that sounds heavenly.” The warmth of genuine pleasure filled her voice at the news, and he was glad that he’d gone ahead and prepared the tea for her, rather than wait to ask when she came down.
She took a big sip and moaned with delight and he couldn’t help but smile again—both at her hedonistic enjoyment and her ability to gulp down the steaming hot beverage without regard for the temperature.
“I see where my real value lies in this marriage,” he said.
The word “marriage” must have reminded her of the night they’d shared, because her cheeks darkened, and a dusky rose tint overlaid her golden-brown skin.
“Oh, well. Good, then...” she stuttered lightly, obviously flustered by the images flashing across her mind.
He wondered what she saw. Was it him? Was it their bodies coming together, joining in the most primal way?
Picturing her mind filled with images of their lovemaking set his own body off, his blood heating as he too recalled losing himself in her, the complete release of everything, if only momentarily—even the fact that he was King.
That last thought was enough to shake the spell.