Page 28 of Out of Office Nights (Royals of Cartana #2)

Shades of bewilderment and apprehension flashed through his eyes, gone before she could decipher the reason.

‘No, of course you’re not. But for starters, you asked me for my help.

And you agreed to do whatever was needed to get that help.

I don’t believe a specific location for where that work would happen was baked into that agreement. ’

Her breath shivered out of her at the resurgence of the domineering prince.

But more than knowing every word he said was valid, and that she yearned to grasp the golden trophy she could see shimmering just out of reach, it was the shadows in his eyes that pulled harder at her.

The burning desire to give him back a fraction of what he’d given her.

And selfishly…carnally, the prospect of more nights with him, more bliss-filled hours experiencing the best lovemaking she’d ever been gifted.

Something of that last longing must have slipped through her composure. His eyes darkened, his aura swelling in response. ‘Besides, we’re not done with each other yet, are we, tesoro ?’

Need dripped hunger straight into her bloodstream, drying up any weak objections before they could escape.

But even with the unassailable evidence that she was growing so very addicted to him, that she stood on the precipice of risking the very emotions she needed to protect, she couldn’t deny the truth.

Even worse, she felt no inclination to step back.

But she could attempt to put a few guard-rails in place, couldn’t she? Maybe? ‘I’ll stay here with you on one condition.’

Displeasure and disappointment flared in his eyes. ‘Let’s hear it.’

‘I don’t want anyone to know about us. I can’t risk my reputation taking another hit if… when …this ends.’ He was her boss. Whom she’d crossed the line with numerous times. She knew to her detriment how rabidly the vultures would pick at the carcass of another unfortunate decision.

‘Your reputation?’ he echoed stonily, a little perplexed.

She lifted her chin higher. ‘Yes. And you should be pleased I want it this way. Keeping this under wraps helps both of us.’

His face turned marble hard. A minute passed while silver eyes drilled into hers. ‘Are you sure about that?’

His tone was devoid of inflection, and she couldn’t tell which she liked less: when he spoke with zero emotion or with his Playboy Prince voice. Especially now she knew how deep his waters ran.

Teo Domene wasn’t a vacuous pleasure-seeker with a penchant for delivering exquisite masterpieces on a sickeningly regular basis and gaining billions of accolades and dollars for his empire.

He possessed a wealth of layers wreathed in mysteries he shared with very few people.

Being exposed to his true self had turned her inside out in a little over a week. What would a month…a year…a lifetime—?

No . That foolishness was out of the question.

But even while it bruised her to push closed a door he clearly didn’t want to close yet, she knew not doing so would bring her more devastation than she’d known before. When this thing between them ended.

This time around, she would keep the fallout out of public view and judgement, thank you very much. So she summoned her strength and stared into his mesmerising eyes. ‘Yes, I’m absolutely sure.’

Was it a trick of the light, or did he pale a shade? In the next moment, one corner of his mouth was tilting, his face morphing from marble into devastating charm as he sauntered towards her.

‘Careful, carina . You might revel in an illicit secret tryst right now, but the alternative might not be open to you when you change your mind.’

The warning cut deeper than she would’ve believed possible. But she’d picked her path. She would walk it. ‘Then it’s a good thing I’m absolutely sure.’

Too late, she remembered he only called her carina when he was in full Playboy Prince mode. For another eternity, he stared at her. Brushed his finger down her cheek, along her jaw to the corner of her mouth, then over her bottom lip, his gaze scarily pensive.

Then he nodded. ‘Very well. So be it.’

His whole life he’d fought to know where he stood. Regardless of whether he ultimately enjoyed that position or he was left with no choice but to create that place for himself, he’d always deemed it best to be equipped with foreknowledge.

For the first time in conscious memory, Teo wished for ignorance.

Because this panic bubbling inside him disturbed him only a fraction less than the giant crevasse of unnerving emptiness he felt.

Was it mere hours ago that he’d thought he’d made a giant breakthrough in his life?

That in helping her overcome guilt over her grandmother and beginning to unblock her creativity once more, he had overcome the yawning sensation of inadequacy that he’d plastered over with his various caricatures for so long it’d almost become second nature to him?

Well, apparently, the stains weren’t so easily washed away.

She wanted to hide him like an unworthy little secret.

And in the very place he’d hoped to make a fresh start while sipping cognac and waiting to tell her that he’d achieved his deepest desires, after all. He’d been found worthy of the attention and recognition that had long been denied him.

Where he’d hoped to erase the memory of his mother using his talent to drape herself in his masterpieces then happily forgetting he existed until the next time she needed a new wardrobe.

Teo had taken all that in stride. Hell, just like the magnificent haute couture he created, he’d mastered the art of making beauty and flaws, pleasure and pain coexist in one dazzling whole, so no one bothered to dissect where one ended and the other began.

He’d become a master at breathtaking camouflage.

Sí , he’d learned too late that he’d become too good at it and it had ultimately cost him time with his father. But that was all behind him now.

So why did this panic burrow deep into a soft and shockingly vulnerable place he hadn’t known existed until she’d given him her condition about secrecy?

He exhaled long and slow, while his brain frantically rushed to provide clarity.

Perhaps it was a good thing he was here in Cartana. Slackening his guard beneath the Moroccan sun and in her fierce beauty and will had clearly made him soft. Sleeping with her, while intensely pleasurable, had further addled his senses.

Besides, there was a much more important reason he’d instructed Fernando to inform him the second the queen left, the reason he’d taken Valenti’s car and rushed here. And if she paled at seeing the unabashed ruthlessness that rushed through his bloodlines, he didn’t care.

‘You’ve given me your conditions. Now let me tell you one of my own.’

Dread danced over her face, but to her credit, her chin remained high, her gaze unwavering. ‘I don’t see why you would have any.’

His hard, little smile felt starched. ‘Patience, carina .’ He gritted his teeth at the careless endearment he’d used a thousand times with dozens of different women.

It tasted…wrong with Sabeen. But the tesoro he’d taken to calling her felt…

risky. Exposing. ‘The possible seismic shift might require fortitude.’

‘Don’t drag it out, then,’ she said.

His gaze trailed over her, lingering, his mouth watering in searing recollection, even while his heart hammered for a different reason. The thing that had jolted him in Azar’s living room.

‘We didn’t use protection this morning.’ The words shook through him, and he couldn’t help himself as an image lit through his brain.

Azar’s mention of his pregnant wife had immediately conjured up a mental picture of Sabeen’s belly swollen with his child.

A vision he suddenly wanted to become reality more than he wanted his next breath.

And if there’s no child?

Another lash of anguish flayed him, letting him in on another shocking discovery.

He wanted her to be pregnant.

Wanted an heir, treasured from the moment they first drew breath, not three regretted decades later.

‘Until such time as we know the consequences for that oversight, you’re not straying one foot from my sight.’