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Things hadn't gone well the first time she’d finally gotten Lahana on the phone.

Even though her cousin had been raped and assaulted too, Tahira hadn’t been comfortable admitting that fact, especially over the phone where there was always the possibility of someone listening in.

After their terse conversation, Tahira had told Darius that Lahana blamed her for getting them into the mess in the first place, which was ridiculous.

The cruise and destinations had been Lahana’s idea, and there was no way they could have foreseen the abduction.

Apparently, Lahana was also resentful over the fact Darius had saved Tahira, while Lahana had no white knight—her words—who’d rushed in to rescue her before she’d been raped.

The woman had ended the call by hanging up on Tahira when she’d been in mid-sentence.

“Maybe I should tell her we do have something in common, that we were both ...” She glanced around; wary someone might overhear her. “You know.”

Darius reached across the table, took her hand, and kept his voice low. “That's completely up to you, sweetheart. I'll support you in whatever way I can. But the more people you tell, the better chance there is that it gets out.”

“I know. I will have to think about it.”

“Well, whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

A brilliant smile spread across her face. “Thank you. Darius, for everything.”

When her gaze dropped to where their hands were, Darius’s followed.

Without him realizing it, his thumb was caressing her soft skin.

Heat flared in his groin, making him hard, and he cursed inwardly.

He had to stop thinking about her in a sexual manner, but she was making it very difficult.

Aside from a few chaste—in his opinion—make-out sessions, he hadn’t pushed her any further.

Then, again, with the increase in staff at the estate, between the security guards and the people assigned to help plan the wedding, among other things, Darius and Tahira hadn’t had much time to themselves except for moments like this.

But here and there, they’d been able to share a few intimate moments.

After all, they had to appear comfortable and in love in the presence of others—at least that was what he’d told himself every time they’d kissed.

He was about to pull his hand away when she squeezed it and then released him. Shy passion simmered in her eyes, stirring his own desire, but she changed the subject. “So, what movie is on the agenda tonight?”

They had a mutual love of horror movies, much to Darius’s delight.

Tahira hadn't seemed like the Stephen King or M. Night Shyamalan type, but Darius had been off on most of his assumptions about the pretty princess. Three or four times a week, they could be found in the mansion’s sixteen-seat, movie theater-style, viewing room with its ninety-eight-inch screen, watching a classic or newly released horror film.

Some nights, it was just the two of them.

Other nights, Tahira had invited some staff members and Darius’s teammates and significant others to join them.

The Omega team got a kick out of it because there was a popcorn cart, a stash of usual snack bar candies, a soda fountain, leather reclining seats, and a surround-sound system to rival a commercial movie theater—talk about the lifestyles of the rich and famous.

And that was only a quarter of the size of the one at the royal palace in Timasur, Tahira had told them.

After wiping his mouth with his napkin, he said, “I was going to talk to you about that. They’re having a small get-together at the Trident compound—nothing fancy, just a barbecue.

Would you like to go with me? We wouldn’t have to worry about the press, even if they do follow us.

The security over there is top-notch. Any reporter that manages to step foot on the property will have to deal with armed guards and BDS&M. ”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

A chuckle vibrated from his chest. As far as he knew, she wasn’t aware there was a sex club at the compound, having never been on the property.

“Sorry. Not BDSM as in kink. BDS&M is the nickname for the four guard dogs Kat Michaelson trained for Trident. Their names are from the military alphabet—Bravo, Delta, Sierra, and Mike.” He shrugged. “Ian’s weird sense of humor.”

“Oh.” She relaxed back into her seat and smiled.

“Yes, Ian does have an odd sense of humor sometimes, although, I think he curbs it around my family, as we are clients as well as friends. And to answer your question, I would love to go. I have wanted to see the yard Angelina designed for Ian. I hear it is wonderful.”

“Great, then it’s a date ...” He mentally smacked himself. “Sorry, I mean—”

“Please do not be sorry, Darius. If it is okay with you, I would like to consider it a date. But if that is not what you want—”

God, he was going to hell. Before now, he’d been able to talk himself out of the feeling they were dating. But it did make sense—after all, in a few weeks they’d be husband and wife. Being a couple should proceed that, right? “Then a date it is.”