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A fter assuring her mother she was okay and wishing her well, Tahira hung up the phone in her father’s office.

It had been a mostly one-sided conversation, because Tahira couldn’t get Darius and the kiss they’d shared out of her mind enough to concentrate.

She’d lied to him earlier. As a teenager, she’d kissed two boys—but those had been experimental and juvenile attempts to figure out what all her friends had told her they’d felt when they’d kissed boys.

Some of her friends claimed it was just like the romance novels they’d read, which, of course, they’d hidden from their parents at that age.

Fireworks, burning passion, unable to catch their breath—things like that.

But after those two sloppy endeavors with the opposite sex had left her feeling empty, Tahira had wondered if something was wrong with her.

Having no interest in women, she knew she wasn’t gay, but had wondered if she might be asexual—someone who didn’t have any sexual desires.

But as she’d gotten older and matured more, she knew that wasn’t the case either.

Men definitely interested her, they made her crave intimacy, but not with anyone in particular—until now.

When Darius had kissed her—hell, before he’d kissed her mouth—he’d ignited something deep inside her that she’d never known existed.

It was as if the missing piece of a puzzle that was her womanhood had fallen into place and her body had rejoiced.

She finally understood what gave authors the inspiration for writing romantic scenes that left readers panting and wanting more.

If Semira hadn’t interrupted them, how far would Darius have gone? How far would Tahira have let him go?

What had startled her even more was the flashes of color that had surrounded the man as they both recovered from the kiss.

He’d always been one of those people she couldn’t get a read on, but she’d known instinctively he was one of the “good guys.” He would never hurt a woman—not intentionally— that she’d known.

But for a few moments there, she’d gotten a glimpse of his aura.

There had been reds, pinks, and purples, swirling together, each color fighting for supremacy.

However, she’d also seen flashes of brownish mauves, which she’d come to associate with confusion or an internal battle being waged.

She would have loved to have known what had been going through his mind at the exact moment those flashes had appeared, but before she’d been able to fully analyze his aura, Darius had pulled back, emotionally.

Then his colors had faded, and, once more, she had been unable to read them.

There had been a brief moment of hope blooming inside her during their kiss—she’d felt a connection with him. One she’d never felt before. One that had made her wonder if she’d found him . Her soulmate.

“Your Highness?”

Tahira turned toward the door. “Yes, Semira?”

“Is there anything you need me to do?”

Glancing at a clock on the wall, she was surprised to see the late hour.

It was just after 8:00 p.m. The woman who managed the Clearwater Beach mansion, and its housekeeping and kitchen staff, had been working over twelve hours today—much longer than usual, unless there was a special occasion.

“No, you may turn in for the night. Thank you for your assistance today.”

“It was my pleasure, Your Highness.”

As Semira left the room, Tahira yawned. She’d dozed on and off in fits since they’d boarded the jet in Argentina.

She’d expected some insomnia in the hospital—no one ever slept comfortably in those places—but she still hadn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep at a time even after arriving at the beach house.

Each time her body and mind lapsed into the REM phase, her nightmares surfaced.

And each time, it felt the same. A heavy weight was pressed down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Perspiration coated her skin, causing goosebumps to appear all over her body.

A putrid aroma of sweat and cigarettes would taunt her sense of smell until she thought she would vomit.

Grunts that seemed to come from a feral animal resounded in her ears.

Flashes of sharp pain between her legs had caused her to awaken more than once with a scream pursed on her lips, ready to be released for everyone in the house to hear.

Somehow, she’d always managed to swallow it back down before it pierced the air.

Once fully awake, she would realize she was panting and crying quietly, and the images would fade, almost as if they had never existed.

But they had—and they continued to exist—and Tahira was desperate to put them behind her.

Tomorrow, she would be meeting with Dr. Trudy Dunbar.

Hopefully, the psychologist would be able to help Tahira to get past her nightmares.

While much of that awful night was still a blur, her body remembered its responses to it.

Would they eventually fade, or would she begin to recall all the horrible details that were locked away somewhere in the far recesses of her mind?

Getting to her feet, Tahira strode to the door and headed toward the kitchen for some herbal tea.

She’d always found the brew soothing, but she suspected that would not be the case tonight.

If she could only force herself to stay awake forever, never to relive the horrors of her attack again, but that wasn’t an option.

Passing the door to the library, which was ajar, she paused when Darius’s deep, rumbling voice filled the air.

He was talking on his cell phone, but other than the name “Levi” she couldn’t hear what he was saying due to the distance between them and his back facing her.

A shiver went down her spine while her gaze caressed his broad shoulders, strong back, narrow waist, and very fine backside.

Her hands itched to touch every inch of him, as she remembered how he’d whispered in her ear, leading up to their first kiss.

... we’re doing this my way ... relax and just feel.

Oh, she’d definitely done just that. She hoped she hadn’t been imagining the way her body had seemed to surrender to Darius.

How he’d taken possession of her mouth like it was his to own and do with it as he pleased.

How every nerve in her body had come alive at his touch and begged for more.

Part of her couldn’t wait to experience all that again, while the other part was terrified about what would happen if they became even more intimate.

How would she react? Would her nightmares attack her conscious mind?

Would she panic and force Darius away? She didn’t want to disappoint him if he wanted to have sex with her on their wedding night, as was his right to expect.

She knew their marriage would only be temporary and one of convenience, but she wanted to reward him for helping her, for rescuing her. What better reward could a woman give the man who was her husband than to offer him her mind, body, and soul?