Page 20

He nudged her and laughed. It came out a little loud and up on the stage, Zynara’s head snapped towards them. Lottie felt sharp eyes rake over her and it fluttered her pulse, but she and Petrov put their heads together and giggled like kids caught talking in class. The Qasira looked away.

“You’re not so bad, Lottie Finch,” Petrov said. “My daughter asked me exactly the same thing.”

“Picture?”

Petrov pulled up a snapshot of a gangly teen, all serious and determined, though still sporting a Hello Kitty sweatshirt and a pink fluffy headband.

“Cute.”

“Zynara’s technology is good for Russia.” He grimaced. “Well, not the Russia President Putin runs, but the Russia of my heart. It’s what’s best for the Russian people, you know?”

Petrov scrolled to another picture. Two enormous white Borzois lounged on an expensive-looking leather sofa.

“Oh stop! They are gorgeous!”

He grinned. “Dostoevsky and Bulgakov.”

“No!”

“The girls call them Dusty and Bugs. They’re real rulers of my house.”

“Your daughters or the dogs?”

He swatted her arm and they cooed their way through the rest of his photo reel, green hydrogen potential forgotten. They were still pouring over his pics when they realised the panel was over.

The Qasira stood in front of them tapping her foot.

Lottie’s breath snagged in her chest.

“Glad to see the energy future of the planet still commands your attention,” Zynara murmured. There was the tiniest flicker of a smile in the corner of her lips.

Petrov stood immediately, all business in a flash. “Your Highness.” He shook her hand with the respect of a man who understood exactly who held the real power in the room.

Zynara barely looked at Lottie before introducing Petrov to Ain Zargiers’ energy minister and the CEO of her hydrogen company.

Her assistant led them away toward the business lounges and Lottie wondered if she should follow.

She’d probably earned her commission on this one—but she was stopped by a single, perfectly manicured finger pressing lightly on her wrist.

“Not you.”

The Qasira didn’t say it so much as breathe it, her voice low, just for Lottie’s ears. The words hummed down Lottie’s spine as surely as if Zynara had drawn a bow across her strings and Lottie was merely an instrument for her to play.

She swallowed.

“Come with me.”

The resort was quiet. People milled around waiting for the next seminar to begin.

Zynara led them down a wide corridor, walls of jasmine on one side, vast, ancient potted orange trees on the other, the air thick with fragrance.

Lottie followed one step behind at her shoulder and felt her power as people bowed.

Suits murmured politely. If they glanced at the Qasira, whatever they saw in her eyes made them look sharply away.

As they turned a corner into a beautiful but deserted courtyard, Zynara seemed to lose her patience.

She pinned Lottie against the wall.

“Gee, I missed you too, princess—” she tried

“Be quiet.” Zynara pressed her palm against the wall next to Lottie’s head and locked her elbow.

An avalanche of expressions crossed her face, and Lottie wasn’t sure if she was about to be fucked into the stucco or banished from the realm.

Irritation won the battle for the Qasira’s emotions.

“Is there any chance you might show some respect?”

The old part of Lottie—the part that had been keen for this to be a game—nearly hooted with triumph. So, the Qasira was falling for her impudence and sass. But another part of her—a part Lottie wasn’t fully sure she understood—felt compassion. Empathy .

What the actual hell?

The Qasira didn’t seem to have the patience for anything as soft as empathy. She trailed a finger down Lottie’s cheek, slowly and deliberately, her eyes lingering on Lottie’s lip, her gaze lazy and entitled.

“Qasira, I—”

Her eyes snapped back up again. “That’s better. Much better. In fact, a very pleasing sound. Say it again.”

Lottie’s insides somersaulted, all her breath got stuck in her throat, all the blood in her body suddenly pooled between her legs. Lottie had played with some dominant women in her time, but this kind of attitude—backed up by a royal title no less—was her most sordid, secret dreams made real.

“Qasira.”

The woman’s smug hum vibrated against Lottie’s body and set her core burning with that wet, hot heat.

The Qasira leaned in and put her lips to her ear.

Her hand slowly traced down Lottie’s body until it reached the hem of her dress—a short, tight royal blue thing Lottie had chosen especially after seeing Zynara’s preference for the colour.

It clung to her body like a second skin, but right now, Lottie just wanted it off.

“Did you wear this for me?”

“This old thing? Actually found it left behind in my suitcase from the last time I was in Monaco—”

The Qasira very deliberately pressed two taut fingers under the fabric and ran them up Lottie’s thigh. Lottie shut her mouth before she moaned.

“Liar. It looks sensational on you. I’m flattered that you dressed up especially for your Qasira.

” There was something deep in her tone that liquidised Lottie’s spine and she suddenly realised the Qasira was holding her up, the pressure of her body keeping her flat against the wall.

Lottie could feel her with every millimetre of her body.

“I wanted to see you again,” she managed.

She shook her head to clear it. She didn’t have any chance of completing her mission if all she did was let the Qasira fuck her.

She needed to work. “I was concerned for you. After last night.” She placed her palm on Zynara’s cheek and cupped it gently. “How are you?”

“How dare you!” Zynara pulled back in shock, her eyes utterly black and interrogating Lottie’s.

“You don’t need to pretend with me,” Lottie whispered. She left her hand in the air, millimetres from Zynara’s skin, willing the woman to want her touch. After a long moment, Zynara’s eyes fell softly closed and she pressed her cheek against Lottie’s palm.

She leaned into it, warm and soft beneath her glittering ice, and Lottie’s chest nearly exploded. Got her.

The Qasira’s eyes screwed up tight and her lips pressed into a thin line.

God, this woman was strung so tight , Lottie thought, she was barely hanging on.

And she was so beautiful.

She brushed her thumb against Zynara’s cheek, and it broke the spell.

Zynara opened her eyes. She took a step away and straightened her shoulders. The cold diplomat was back. “My apologies,” she said, formally. “I never prevail upon my brother’s guests more than once. This was presumptuous of me. You may go.”

“Don’t do that, Qasira.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t go all regal on me. I saw you this morning. You’re hurting.”

“You were spying on me?”

Fuck . That was a little close to the bone.

“You were in a bar, princess. Anyone could have seen you like that.”

“ Qasira .”

“You were in a bar, Qasira, and you were lucky your friend Sami was there to protect you. He cares about you.”

“And you?”

Zynara looked at her as if she wanted Lottie to be full of care for her too.

And, damn it, but Lottie was. She wondered how a woman who very literally had everything could want for kindness, but then she considered the Qasira’s history.

She’d lost her mother and her older brother.

Her younger brother was a piece of shit and her father was dying.

Lottie raised her hand again.

Zynara lifted her chin. “I don’t need your sympathy.”

“It’s okay to want it, though.”

That hung in the air for a long moment and the Qasira’s expression crumpled. She seized Lottie’s wrist and pulled her across the courtyard. On the other side was a private room. Zynara kicked the door open, tugged Lottie through, and slammed it behind them.

It was a spacious suite of rooms, a magnificent view of the Mediterranean through open french doors that led to a private garden. Most importantly, there was a bed.

Zynara dropped Lottie’s wrist and regarded her belligerently. “I don’t do this,” she said, crisply.

“Do what?”

“Fuck anyone twice.”

Lottie grinned and stuck a hand on her hip. She knew she’d won now. She stuck her boobs out. “Well, you’re missing all the fun.”

There was a beat, and then Zynara huffed out a laugh. “You, Lottie Finch, are not like any of the others.”

“And you, Qasira , are about to find out just how true that is.” She ignored Zynara’s guffaw. She wanted the woman close again. Her mission could go to hell. “Come here.”

“You do not order me around!”

Lottie just crooked two fingers. She smirked.

The Qasira tipped her head back and blew a long breath at the ceiling for patience. Then she strode slowly forward and right into Lottie’s personal space.

Two hands that could barely hide their impatience landed on Lottie’s hips. They tugged until Lottie fell against her. She could feel Zynara’s thighs against her own, their breasts soft against each other.

She knew what Zynara needed now, and she was very happy to give it to her.

She’d always admired a powerful woman. If this powerful woman needed to use her to rebuild her pride, then Lottie was very pleased to help with her effort.

She was taller, and Lottie liked it like that too.

There was definitely a proprietary look in Zynara’s eyes as she looked down at her and focused on her lips.

Their sudden proximity tightened the tension between them and Lottie felt heat blossom like a bomb between her legs.

“Hmm,” Zynara murmured.

“Hmm?”

“You smell—” She bent her head to the crook of Lottie’s neck and breathed her in.

“ Pftt . You’re a charmer. This is why you don’t sleep with anyone twice—”

One hand left her waist and slapped her arse.

“—delicious. You smell divine. You have no fucking manners and are quite possibly the least respectful courtesan I’ve ever met, but for some reason I can’t get you out of my head.

Last night I surveyed the ruins of my business, I directed funds to the families of two men who were hurt, I set restoration plans in motion, I crunched all the numbers, I made everything as right as it could possibly be, and all the while the scent of you was still on my skin.

This wicked little smile danced before my eyes. All I could think about was you.”

Zynara directed the last of that as a hot breath against the skin of Lottie’s neck. It sent goosebumps over her entire body.

“And just now, you sat before me in that conference, all clingy with Antonin Petrov for fuck’s sake, while I tried to host a panel of experts— Are you trying to torture me?”

“If that’s what you like—”

There was a huff of laughter against her throat.

“Unbelievably impudent.” Zynara bit her neck, just under her ear, and all Lottie’s cheek dissolved in a second. She gave a desperate little hum. She would have crumpled to the floor if Zynara hadn’t held her up.

There was a very pleased hum. “I thought so. It’s exactly what you like, isn’t it?”

“Torturing you? Might be,” Lottie sassed.

“Brat. You know exactly what I mean.” Zynara bit again and tilted her hips.

Lottie moaned. Zynara chuckled and pulled back. The moan turned into a groan. Zynara smiled, wolfishly.

“No manners at all. But you’re definitely making me feel better. Would you like to help me relax completely?”

Lottie nodded furiously. This was what she’d missed out on last night. The chance to fuck a woman like the Qasira? Lottie would sell her soul—if she hadn’t bargained the thing away long ago.

Zynara shucked off her blazer and tossed it over a chair. She held out her arms. “Get to work then.”