He hesitated. Ela wasn’t the only one who was out of sorts. He shook his head. “No. We’ll have dinner in an hour.” An hour in which to gather his thoughts for the evening—and night—ahead.
Elaheh twistedand turned in front of the mirror, frowning at the beautiful cerise satin evening gown which she’d selected from the wardrobe of clothes Shakira had thoughtfully sent over to the desert castle ahead of their visit.
It wasn’t as demure and conservative as she usually wore, but bore all the hallmarks of Shakira’s more extrovert taste. Elaheh rarely wore western clothes but Xander had made it clear that they’d be dressing for dinner so she knew that none of the other smart daywear would be suitable. At least Shakira had selected the more conservative clothes with their full length, high neckline and long sleeves. But it wasn’t until she’d turned around and caught a glimpse of her rear view in the mirror that she realized the dress wasn’t as demure as she’d first thought.
The satin caught the light, making the most of her petite curves in a way she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with. But it was too late to change. She’d just have to make sure she didn’t present her rear view to Xander. Then the light caught her breasts and she closed her eyes with embarrassment. This dress, she realized belatedly, was designed to seduce, regardless of how little bare skin was showing, or even, because of it. She didn’t blame Shakira. Shakira breathed seduction—it was instinctive to her, and she wouldn’t have been aware that the dress would make Elaheh feel so uncomfortable.
She stood biting her lip in indecision, and caught the eye of the maid looking back at her. She had to confide in someone.
“I’m not sure, maybe I should wear something else.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I’ve been informed that His Highness is expecting formal evening dress.”
She knew why. He’d made it clear that tonight would be a special night when he’d begin his seduction of her. And she had agreed, hadn’t she? She looked up into eyes that betrayed none of the courage with which Xander had attributed her. She blinked. This was ridiculous. She’d agreed to this, and she never reneged on an agreement. Nothing had changed. She still agreed that it was the way forward for her. So evening dress it was.
She tentatively fingered her newly curled hair which hung loose, like a cloak, providing her with some protection at least.. She shivered at the unfamiliar sensation of it against her skin. It made her feel a different person, which was what she wanted to be, wasn’t it? She nodded to herself as if the person in the mirror had answered her question and, with a swish of the long bias-cut skirt, Elaheh resolutely turned her back on her image and strode over to the door.
Elaheh felt unaccountably nervous as she walked down the wide sweep of stairs to the great hall. The swish of the satin gown as it brushed against the polished stone sent further shivers of something like anticipation down her spine. If there were staff present, they were hidden, behind the wooden doors and stone walls, in remote areas of the castle, catering for the needs of the two crowned heads of state, but invisible. For that, Ela was grateful. She wanted as few people as possible to bear witness to her seduction.
The double doors of the dining room opened as if her approach was observed and yet she could see no one. Xander rose from the far end of a vast table set for only two people. She knew he rose because she saw him out of the corner of her eye. For some reason she seemed unable to look at him directly.
Torch lights flickered, reacting to the opening doors, but settling again as the doors closed behind her and the servants disappeared, leaving only Xander and her in the room.
“Ela,” Xander greeted, his deep voice sending further shivers upon shivers across her skin.
She walked toward the first portrait and looked determinedly at it. “Xander,” she replied, looking up at a portrait very different to that of his great grandmother. This man was austere and autocratic. “You look like him,” she said, absorbing the strong lines of the man’s face, and the piercing eyes.
He didn’t reply but she heard him push a chair aside and his footsteps as he approached her. He stopped just short. She took a deep breath filled with his aftershave and something undefinably him. It did nothing to soothe her nerves.
“I should do. He was my great grandfather. It seems I’ve inherited the best of both my great-grandparents,” he said with a grin. “The other portraits are of Amir and Zavian’s families. A shared castle.”
“Once a shared land,” she murmured before turning to him.
“A shared land which paled in comparison to your own great and ancient lands of Tawazun.”
She nodded, pleased by his acknowledgement of her country’s superiority. It seemed he was trying to seduce her in more ways than the physical.
“My country is indeed great in size, but its growth has been stalled for generations.”
He took a step closer to her, and she turned back to the portrait. “No longer, Ela. We will work together to make sure Tawazun moves into a new era of prosperity.
She smiled at the thought of the new world they were creating for her country and, taken off guard, turned to him. He was closer than she’d imagined. Her smile fell.
He reached out and brushed the side of her mouth. “You have a beautiful smile. You don’t smile often enough.”
She blinked in time to her suddenly rapidly beating heart. “I don’t?” She didn’t recognize her voice. It sounded breathless and husky at the same time, nothing like her usual forthright no-nonsense tone.
His finger lingered on her cheek, tracing the brackets created by a smile, which unaccountably had found its way back to her face. His smile broadened.
“No, you don’t. But I’m hoping you will in the future.”
“Why?” she asked again in that newly husky voice. “Who can say what will happen in the future?”
“Me. I can. The immediate future anyway.”
And before she could react he tilted her chin gently up and kissed her. Life seemed to shift into a different, slower gear and she was acutely aware of ever nuance, every shift of his lips upon hers, his warm breath against her cheek. It lit up her body like a spark to a candle.
“Oh,” she breathed, when he withdrew, his fingers still lingering against her cheek.