Page 17 of Out of Office Nights (Royals of Cartana #2)

She dozed by the sparkling pool after a sumptuous lunch, explored the villa properly to discover there was indeed a housekeeper and her assistant that came with the property.

In a surprisingly large study, she gasped in delight at two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves holding hundreds of books.

Plucking a bestseller that had been all the rage months before, she found a nook in a smaller living room and lost herself within the pages, looking up in surprise to see the sun had moved significantly, that early evening was falling.

And Teo was walking towards her.

The sight of her sarong caught between his fingers sent fresh waves of unstoppable heat over her skin.

Unlike her, he’d changed clothes since their time on the beach, and dear God, the loose white linen trousers and the white T-shirt stretching over his broad shoulders and torso was so mouth-watering she was terrified of drooling.

‘Dinner will be ready in an hour. Come. There’s one more room you haven’t seen yet.’

Clearly the glorious day of doing next to nothing and worrying about even less had mellowed her. Because she set her book down and rose without argument, not even battling her body’s reaction to Teo watching with rapt attention as she wrapped the sarong around her hips.

The flicker of heat in his gaze made her breath catch. Made her intensely aware of the forbidden attraction consuming her whole as she followed him out of the room and across salons, through hallways and into the last room on the other side of villa attached to the far terrace.

Every room so far had been a delight. This was one reserved for the full exploration of one’s senses. She pondered if it was why he’d saved it for last, when she was the most relaxed she’d been in years.

On one side were jaw-dropping works of art steeped in Moroccan heritage. Contemporary paintings by Benecerraf, scenic landscapes by R’bati, abstracts by Abecassis. Plush sofas, Berber rugs and wide floor cushions were strewn about, arranged to face the wall and pay homage to the artwork.

She drifted towards the display, but Teo brushed his fingers over her hand, redirecting her attention to the other side of the room.

It smelled of expensive cigars and ashes from a hookah. The walls were a darker mottled clay, and on the farthest side a long bar made entirely of distressed copper hammered into place with large rivets displayed dozens of colourful liquors.

Like the wall of art, this side of the room was equally eye-catching, enough to pull her in for a closer examination.

Sliding behind the bar, she ran her fingers over the cool surface, studiously avoiding the sexily tousled prince who’d sprawled out on the long coffee velvet sofa facing the bar, with his bare arms flung wide to rest on the back of the seat.

His bronzed perfection was wreaking havoc on her senses, and she intended to keep a level head for as long as she could stand it. Then when she couldn’t, she would simply leave.

‘This estate isn’t familiar to me. Which means it’s new.’ His gaze stalked her as she walked her fingers down the bar. ‘Usually, individuals who think they’re important and special gravitate to the more prestigious enclave ten minutes from here.’

‘Is there a question in there, tesoro ?’

She bit her cheek to stop herself from telling him not to call her that. It was clear he didn’t intend to heed her. Plus, the endearment, however carelessly flung, was growing on her.

Still avoiding his gaze, she stopped to examine the copper sculpture at the end of the bar. ‘Why did you choose this villa?’

‘Because it was closer to you,’ he said with brutal simplicity.

Her eyes flew to his. His molten gaze dared her to challenge that. To put a slant on it that wasn’t savagely conscripted by him.

‘Teo…’ She wasn’t exactly sure what to say, what she could say without betraying the maelstrom of emotions rampaging through her.

‘Make me something,’ he drawled, with the kind of assurance that said he expected his wish to be fulfilled.

And since Sabeen couldn’t find it in her heart to challenge that assumption, especially because he’d gone out of his way to ensure she was fed noon and night for the past four days, she shrugged.

When she managed to tear her gaze from his, a quick glance showed the ever-present mint tea in a carafe set beneath the wall of liquor.

The remaining ingredients were easy enough to locate.

And despite her senses still churning all over the place, she strode over five minutes later with two glasses of Marrakesh Mule and handed his over.

He rose to accept his and sipped it while staring at her. Then gave that lopsided half smile. ‘ Excelente…gracias .’

His hand brushed hers again, directing her to the sectional sofa directly opposite the art wall. ‘What do you know about these artists?’

She shrugged. ‘Not very much. All I know is what I’ve seen of them in art shows and museums. I do know they’re exceptional. And these are…exquisite.’

‘Indeed.’ He sipped his drink again then pointed to two of the paintings. ‘What you may not know is that those two went through periods of personal strife and public excoriation—and came out the other side stronger than ever.’

In other words, what she was going through. Before she could allow herself to be touched, he was pointing to another two. ‘Those two, however, crashed and burned after a single burst of illumination. One-hit wonder , I believe, is the term?’

She stared at him long and hard. ‘You want me to decide which of those two camps I want to belong to?’

His eyes drifted down her face, trailing warm caresses along the way. ‘ I’m certain to which you belong. What you need to decide is if you want to fight for now or fight for life.’

She blinked, the movement curiously slow as the tumult of emotions distilled into one powerful sensation: desire. For the electric promise in his voice. For the heady belief that she had what it took to reclaim her power.

Teo Domene was a master beguiler, each word and deed projecting impossible dreams and cravings that tempted her closer to a flame she accepted she couldn’t live without. Curiously more so now that he’d admitted that her success ultimately played into his own ends.

‘You can reclaim the woman your jida was once proud of,’ he murmured, eyes still boring deep. Seeing straight to the heart of her.

‘And you can slay whatever demons need slaying back in Cartana?’

His nostrils flared, but he didn’t tense as before. And the bleakness, while making another appearance, wasn’t as acute. ‘Look at us, so in sync.’ The merest hint of cynicism pulsed through his gruff words.

We’re in this…together.

A heady sentiment, exposing her to more earthy, elemental cravings, making her sway towards him, a soft moan escaping her.

He freed her glass from her clutches with minimum effort. She felt every octave of the deeper moan released from her throat when his fingers spiked into her loosened hair and gripped it tight. When he used the firm hold to nudge her close. Closer.

‘What do you want, Sabeen?’ It was a firm demand that dared her to meet him without fear or pretence. To be bolder in seizing her desires.

And what she wanted, above all else, was to relive that first and only kiss. Ignoring the imprudence hovering in the distance, she embraced the risky abandon of more . ‘I want you to kiss me,’ she whispered. Then more firmly, ‘Now.’

The smug surprise in his eyes was doused almost immediately by a blaze of lust when he grunted. And swooped. Seizing her mouth with his in a fiery assault that made her gasp and part her lips eagerly beneath his. Firm and luscious and reigniting her memory, Teo’s kiss was indescribable. Ravening.

His tongue swept between her eager lips, unhurried, decadently savouring her, sliding over the tip of hers, sending arrows of lust straight to her core.

A disgraceful little whimper left her throat, her fingers scrabbling against his chest as she surged closer.

Need built as he took his time in sating her.

With an impatient groan, she dragged him closer, eliciting a dark chuckle before he deepened the contact.

In some infuriating part of her mind, she understood why women fell all over themselves for him. He could so easily slide beneath one’s skin, take residence, carve his very will on one’s soul. A sorcerer with every potent spell at his disposal.

One of those spells could mean her risking so much more than a handful of a few moments’ pleasure. That warning finally tore through the dizzying effects of their kiss, spoiling the soup of bliss drowning her.

She pushed him away, almost resentful when he so easily let her go to retreat to the far end of the sofa, his hooded eyes slowly turning pensive as his arms returned to the top of the seat in a picture of regal indolence.

If not for the reddened swell of his sensual lips, and the very visible bulge between his legs, she would’ve thought the last few minutes was a fever dream conjured up by her overheated imagination.

‘That was… That shouldn’t have happened.’

There. This was the perfect opportunity to draw the line she’d been faintly sketching, firm and resolute, in the sand. To stand, hurry to the other room, reclaim her things and leave. But her body refused to move. Her mind rebelled against detaching herself from this magic.

‘Shouldn’t it?’

She shook her head to clear the lust fog gripping her. ‘I got carried away…’

‘With the intoxicating possibilities available to you?’

Her gaze flicked from her twisting fingers to his face, down his body, lingering where it really shouldn’t. ‘Whatever those are shouldn’t include…this.’ She waved a hand over him, a gesture almost comical in its frantic insistence.

But she wasn’t laughing. She knew where giving in to one’s senses too conclusively led.

Without perception or discernment and far too trusting, the way she’d been with Nathan.

She wasn’t going back there again, even if this Playboy Prince was proving to have far more appealing depths than she’d ever imagined.

Theirs was a collaboration with an end goal of rebirth and redemption. She would do well to remember that.

He opened his mouth. And suddenly she was afraid. Terrified that he would ascribe some perfectly reasonable meaning to this too.

‘Please don’t trot out some cliché that it’s for my own good or it’s part of my journey or whatever,’ she griped.

‘No, tesoro . I’ll let you marinate in that beautiful chaos all by yourself. What I was going to say is that dinner is ready.’ His pointed glance over her shoulder snapped her gaze to the door, just in time to see the housekeeper disappearing.

‘Are the staff trained to be ghosts?’ She cringed at the husky disgruntlement in her voice.

‘Hmm,’ he offered noncommittally. He rose, held out his hand.

She rose on her own, not trusting herself to touch him again so soon.

Wryly amused, he led her outside and around the villa to the largest terrace next to the pool, where a feast awaited them on the pristinely laid table. Sabeen hastily pulled out her own chair before he could, earning herself a less amused glance.

She accepted the glass of Chateau Latour Bordeaux just to curb the incessant tingling in her hands. Then she pre-empted him when he sent her a probing look once their fragrant chicken rfissa was served and cleared her throat.

‘You’ve pushed and prodded enough. It’s only fair that you answer a few questions too.’

His face hardened. ‘This isn’t about me.’

‘Are you sure, Teo?’

His face hardened a touch. ‘An inch wasn’t enough? Now you wish for a mile?’

‘If it’ll help in mutual goal achievement, why not?’ A light query, yet it immediately weighed like an anvil, linking them together that way, plucking at emotions she needed to keep far away from this exercise.

His nostrils flared at the clear challenge. Picking up his wine, he swirled it as he watched her, a deadly viper staring down its prey. ‘Very well. You get one chance. Ask your question.’