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‘No. I didn’t,’ he agreed.
A tense, electric silence sprang between them. He’d sensed her before he’d spotted her in the café. His senses were always fine-tuned where women were concerned, but she had intrigued him from the first moment, with her elfin looks, and full, voluptuous figure. She wasn’t remotely in awe of him, which only added to her allure. Half his size, she was quite a bit younger, though her character made up for any lack of experience.
‘Good coffee?’ she said, breaking the silence.
‘Excellent,’ he murmured, maintaining eye contact until she blushed.
In the course of his duties as ruler of one of the fabulously wealthy Sapphire States, he met many women, but never remembered them for long. None held such instant appeal. He weighed up her clothes and the body underneath. The cheap, unbuttoned coat was open over a clinging cotton sweater that spurred an urge to introduce her to fabrics that would caress her body. Kissing that challenging look off her face was another must, before bringing her to the heights of pleasure.
‘You really didn’t need to do this,’ she said as he asked the waitress for a top-up.
‘But I really want to,’ he said, holding her stare.
‘Do you always get what you want?’
‘Most times,’ he admitted.
He only had to raise a brow for her to read him easily. ‘Lucy,’ she said. ‘Lucy Gillingham.’
The name meant nothing to him, but he made a mental note to ask his security team to check her out.
‘Careful,’ he said as she dipped her head to take a sip of the refreshed coffee. ‘It’s hot.’
‘I’m always careful,’ she said with a look that left him in no doubt she would never be a pushover.
The most astonishing jade-green eyes pierced his, tilted up at the outer corners. Lucy’s expressive gaze was enhanced by a thick fringe of black lashes that added a feline touch to what was already a highly attractive package.
‘Sorry,’ she said, pulling back, and blushed attractively when their knees brushed.
‘No problem,’ he said, sliding his long legs between hers without touching her, but her blush deepened as if she was deeply conscious of the intimacy forced upon them by the narrow table. Colour tinted her Slavic cheekbones an attractive shade of rose. ‘You have beautiful hair,’ he said to distract her.
‘And you have big feet,’ she said, shuffling around to remove all chance of them touching.
Lucy wore her hair in a no-nonsense short, urchin-cut style. It suited her strong personality. In a rich shade of auburn, it reminded him of autumn on his English country estate when the leaves had turned from vibrant green to take on the tint of fire. She was fiery. She’d be amazing in bed.
‘Oh, that’s better,’ she said, having drained the mug. ‘I’m good for nothing before a coffee. How about you?’
‘I’m good for some things,’ he said.
Her cheeks burned red. He hadn’t enjoyed himself so much in a long time.
How could talking about coffee be so dangerous? Lucy spent a lot of time daydreaming, but none of them turned out like this. If only she’d paid more attention to the press and laundry gossip, she might have a clue who the intriguing man was. ‘You’re new in port,’ she prompted, waiting on more information.
‘Another coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’ As he turned to speak to the waitress, her mind strayed to lazy days on a sugar-sand beach, with blocks of chilled chocolate at her side, and a bucket of lemon sorbet Bellinis to share with the mystery man as a prelude to very good sex, the details of which escaped her for now.
‘Something wrong?’ he queried as she frowned.
‘Yes. As a matter of fact, there is. I told you my name. Or, do you have something to hide?’
He laughed and his entire face lit up. Attractive didn’t even begin to describe the creases around his eyes and the flash of those strong white teeth. Raunchy? Her nipples were prickling without him even looking at them. Close enough for her to detect his minty breath, and to register the fact that he didn’t like shaving, he was an incredible lure with those incredible black eyes burning into hers.
‘My name is Tadj.’
‘Ah—like the Taj Mahal,’ she said, relaxing.
‘Tadj with a D,’ he explained.
‘Oh.’ Her cheeks flamed up again. ‘I suppose you hear that dozens of times.’
‘Some,’ he agreed.
The killer smile had returned to his face, but she settled for regarding him coolly. With his thick black hair curling wildly around cheekbones that would have sent Michelangelo crazy for his chisel, she guessed he must be used to admiration, and was determined not to add to it, though couldn’t help herself wondering what that sharp black stubble would feel like if he rasped it very gently against her skin. Imagining her rounded curves accommodating his impressive hard-muscled frame led her to shift position on the bench seat.
‘Tadj,’ she repeated to distract herself fast. ‘Nice.’
He was still staring at her with that faintly amused expression on his face, which led to one quick thought...melted chocolate, heated gently before being spread liberally over her naked body, for him to lick off. ‘Okay, Tadj with a D, so now I know your name, but not your occupation.’
‘That’s right. You don’t,’ he said.
‘Cagey,’ she observed, narrowing her eyes. ‘I’m genuinely curious.’
‘And I’m genuinely cagey,’ he countered with a scorching look.
They both laughed and the atmosphere lightened.
‘So?’ she prompted, coffee mug hovering in front of her lips.
‘So, what? What do you want to know?’
‘Let’s start with everything?’ she said.
‘We don’t have time.’
‘Should I be worried that you’re being so evasive?’
‘Here?’ He glanced around. ‘Probably not.’
But later, she thought. She killed the thought as soon as it sprang into her head. There’d be no later. She’d try another tack to dig for information. ‘So, what brings you to King’s Dock?’
‘Old friends and business,’ he said.
‘Intriguing.’
‘Not really,’ he admitted, sitting back. ‘King’s Dock is a convenient place to meet, that’s all.’ He raised a brow, as if challenging her to ask more questions.
‘I must be keeping you from your friends,’ she stated, reaching for her bag.
‘You’re not,’ he said, still relaxed, still surveying her as a soft-pawed predator might observe his next meal.
As they stared at each other, a quiver of arousal tracked down her spine. He was enjoying this, she thought. And so was she. A lot more than was wise. Why had this extraordinary-looking man landed in the middle of an ordinary day? Time to take a tougher line. ‘You sat me down, force-fed me coffee, so now you have to pay for the pleasure of my company with information.’
‘You think?’ Few women had ever made him laugh as Lucy did. Being so irreverent and funny was part of her charm. ‘You won’t get round me,’ he warned when she pulled a mock-disappointed face.
‘Why not?’ she complained in the same style. ‘Is what you do for a living classified information? Maybe you’re a secret agent,’ she speculated with a lift of her finely drawn brow.
‘And maybe I’m a man drinking coffee in a café and minding his own business as best he can...’
‘How boring. I prefer my version.’
‘I’m in security,’ he admitted finally. This was the truth. One of his many companies was responsible for the safety of some of the most prominent people on the planet. As the ruler of a country it was in his interest to hire the best.
‘Aha.’ Sitting back, Lucy appeared to relax. ‘Now it makes sense.’
‘What does?’
‘Your evasiveness,’ she explained. ‘I’m guessing you handle security for one of the those big fat potentates on their big fat superyachts.’ She angled her chin towards the window, beyond which a line of imposing vessels loomed like huge white ghosts against the steel-grey sky. ‘What’s it like working for the super-rich, mystery man?’
Her naivety was irresistible, but her innocence compelled him to tell the truth. ‘Actually, I’m one of them.’
‘A big, fat potentate?’ she exclaimed, frowning in a way that made him laugh.
‘I thought it was the yachts you thought big and fat.’
‘You’re being serious, aren’t you?’ she said in a very different tone.
‘Your expression does my ego no good at all,’ he admitted.
‘Well, this changes things,’ she said, ‘and I can’t help the way I look.’
‘Having money changes your opinion of me?’
She hummed and frowned again. ‘I don’t have an opinion about you yet,’ she admitted honestly. ‘I don’t know you well enough.’
He would be the first to admit he was touchy about money. His late uncle had plundered the Qalalan treasury, leaving it empty when Tadj inherited the throne. Tadj had built up a bankrupt country brick by brick. Even then, when everything was back on an even keel, a family to whose daughter he’d been engaged since his birth turned up to demand he marry the girl right away. It had cost him a king’s ransom to sort that out. The experience had left him with a horror of state marriages, together with the distinct impression that a mistress was far preferable to a wife. He had to marry one day to provide Qalala with an heir as the constitution demanded, but not yet, and his thoughts regarding taking a mistress in the interim had just taken on a new and vigorous lease of life.
CHAPTER TWO (#u2d57610d-aa23-52ae-8cc6-2b71ea93eeae)
‘IF YOU’VE MADE so much money out of the security business...’ What was coming next, he wondered as Lucy gave him one of her wide-eyed cheeky, teasing looks. ‘Can I ask you for a loan?’
He knew this was a joke, but bridled anyway at the possibility that she might be like all the rest. ‘Ten pounds until pay day?’ she pressed blithely, but she couldn’t hold back the laughter, and, sitting back, she said, ‘You should see your face.’
He adopted a stern look. ‘You’ll get away with that this time.’
‘You mean there’ll be a next time?’ Quick as a whip, he thought as she added, ‘That’s assuming rather a lot, isn’t it? How do you know I’ll want to see you again?’
His groin tightened as he told her, ‘Educated guess.’
Resting her chin on her hand, she stared at him in a way that made him wish he were clothed in flowing robes rather that snug-fitting jeans.
‘Surely, you can run to a miserly ten pounds?’ she pressed.
He reached for his wallet.
‘Don’t you dare,’ she said.
‘Can’t I pay the bill for the extra coffee?’
‘Touché,’ she said. ‘Just bear this in mind, Mr Security Man. I don’t want your money. I don’t want anyone’s money. I’m doing fine as I am. Here—let me contribute. Save your money for your next coffee-shop adventure.’
‘I doubt there’ll be one.’
‘Too much of a security risk for you to keep taking up with strangers?’ she suggested.
‘Something like that.’ He stared at her intently, but there was no sign that she’d recognised him.
‘I guess you have to be careful in the security business.’
‘My involvement is in the security of a country,’ he explained.
‘Big stuff,’ she said.
‘You could say that.’ He grinned.
‘You must be pretty powerful. And yet you look so normal.’
He tried hard not to laugh. ‘Why thank you.’
‘Well, this has all been very nice.’ She sighed as she gathered up her things. ‘But now it’s time for me to go. Some of us have to work,’ she added.
‘Let me walk you back—where do you work?’ He wasn’t ready to let her go.
‘At Miss Francine’s laundry,’ she said with a touch of defiance.
He got it. Some of the rich yachties could be real snobs. If he turned out to be one of them, she’d rather know now. ‘The laundry on the marina?’ he prompted, having noticed the bustling establishment on his walk.
‘Yes.’ She pulled another of her comic faces. ‘We’ve moved on from banging out dirt with stones at the stream.’
‘Uh-huh. So, what’s your job at the laundry?’
‘Ironing and finishing.’
‘You any good?’
‘You bet I am.’
His lips twitched and then she laughed. It must have dawned on them both at the same moment that two strangers could share a table and chat over coffee, without things getting heavy.
