She curved her hands around his neck and leant close as he nodded to the stable hand and strode towards the main building. She’d never grow tired of how precious she felt, scooped up in his arms. As if she was some delicate treasure.
It was too late to walk away. The die was cast. She’d give him what he wanted, what they both wanted.
There was only so much a woman could take.
* * *
Asim’s mobile phone rang as their bath water cooled. His gaze shifted to the bedroom and he frowned.
‘Answer it,’ she urged, forcing herself to lift her head from his solid shoulder. ‘It must be important.’
Lolling in the massive sunken bath, her body lax and deliciously replete, Jacqui couldn’t begrudge him his call. In the time she’d known him, this was the longest Asim had gone without a meeting. After the first flurry of calls this morning to arrange his time away from the capital, his private line had been silent as he’d devoted his time exclusively to her.
‘Possibly.’ But he leaned in to kiss her full on the mouth in a lush caress that liquefied her already weak limbs. Then gently he put her aside to stand, water sluicing down the strong planes of his body.
Jacqui’s eyelids dropped to half-mast as she took in the display of masculine perfection before her. Too soon, though, he’d grabbed a towel and, grinning at her reaction, strode from the room.
‘I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.’
She sighed and wondered if it were possible for this day to get any better. It had started abysmally but now she felt like she floated on cloud nine.
Finally she made herself move, getting out and wrapping a fluffy bath sheet around her. She was towelling the ends of her hair, walking towards the open bedroom door, when she heard Asim.
‘No, cancel the princess’s visit.’ He paused. ‘I know it’s short notice but I’ve had second thoughts. It can’t go ahead.’ A longer pause. ‘No, not her either. I’ll explain when I’m back, but for now put the whole schedule on hold. No more eligible women.’
Jacqui paused and looked over her shoulder to where Asim spoke on the phone. He stood, magnificently bare-chested, wearing only a stark white towel around his hips.
His eyes caught hers and something about his expression made her still. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Tension? Worry? Determination?
Misgiving feathered cool fingers across her nape. Something wasn’t right.
She turned away and reached for a comb, tidying her damp hair while he finished the call. Even then she waited a few extra moments before entering the bedroom, unable to shake a sense of foreboding.
‘All finished?’
‘Yes.’ Asim turned away and took his time putting the phone on the bedside table. She couldn’t read his face. For some reason that only added to her nebulous anxiety.
‘That sounded intriguing. No more eligible women?’ Jacqui put a smile she didn’t feel in her voice.
Asim turned, faint colour washing his craggy cheekbones. ‘No.’
Warning became a nagging bite of worry. It wasn’t like Asim to be monosyllabic. When he said no more, Jacqui turned towards the wardrobe. She wouldn’t push.
‘I should tell you.’ He paused. ‘Even though it’s ended now.’
Jacqui spun around. ‘What’s ended?’
Asim palmed the back of his neck as if massaging tight muscles. The action drew attention to the formidable strength in his biceps and shoulder, and the musculature of his torso.
They’d been lovers for weeks and still Jacqui was distracted by the sight of him.
‘You might want to sit.’ He gestured to the wide bed. Instead Jacqui sank onto a nearby sofa. Instinct urged against lolling on a mattress when Asim had news for which she needed to sit. Unease rippled again.
‘I’m thirty-five,’ he said, pacing, then turning to face her. ‘The last male of my family.’
She nodded. The Sultanate of Jazeer had been in the hands of the same family for hundreds of years. She’d been fascinated by the way a modern state was melded to such ancient tradition, like the right of one man to rule.
He walked towards her, stopping less than a metre away, so she had to tilt her head up.
‘I’ve been looking for a wife.’
Jacqui felt the air rush into her lungs in a gasp. Her eyes bulged. Finally she forced herself to exhale, ignoring the way her head spun.
Was it really so surprising?
Yet shock sank claws of steel into her defenceless body.
‘You want an heir.’ Of course he did. He needed to secure the succession. Wasn’t that what they called it?
Yet for some reason the air seemed suspended in her lungs and tightness banded her ribs. It might be logical but that didn’t lessen the impact of his bombshell.