Gambling With the Crown(26)
A hot wave of anger flooded her. She would never look like Lenore Bradford in a million years. “Perhaps you should have asked Lenore then,” she snapped.
His eyes widened only marginally. And then they narrowed again while her heart beat hotly. Well, dammit, she was tired of hearing about Lenore and how gorgeous she was and how Emily needed to be more like her.
“I did not ask Lenore.” His voice was icy. “I asked you. And you agreed, I might add. So stop pouting and start doing your part.”
“I’m not pouting, Kadir.” At least it was getting easier to say his name, probably because she was so furious with him half the time. “I know what you want and I’ll do my best to make it happen. Though I still don’t understand why you don’t just tell your father you don’t want to be king. Surely he would understand that. It’s not like you’re his only choice.”
His teeth ground together. His gray eyes flashed hot and sharp, but she wasn’t intimidated. Not this time. What was he going to do? Fire her for good?
Maybe later, but not before he got what he wanted. She suppressed a shiver and refused to look away from that mesmerizing stare.
“It does not work that way.”
“Why not? Is there a law against saying you don’t want to be king?”
“Emily.” His voice was a growl. “This is not something I wish to talk about. Leave it.”
She folded her arms over her chest and turned to look at the window. “Fine. But stop harassing me. I’m sure Lenore would have been perfect for what you want, but then you’d be stuck with a woman who wanted you as a husband for real. And no matter what agreement she signed, she’d probably try to talk you out of it. Or screw you out of it, I imagine.”
He muttered something in Arabic that she thought might be a curse.
“What?” she demanded. “Am I wrong?”
There was a wild, hot current swimming in her veins. A feeling that made her bold, made her fling herself against the forbidden gates of Kadir’s life in utter fury. She realized with a start that it must be four long years of pent-up frustration with this man finally gaining a voice. Four years in which she’d done her job, kept her mouth shut and watched him be a complete ass to the women who rotated through his life.
Well, he’d freed her now, and she wasn’t going to waste a moment of it.
Which, a small part of her tried to say, was career suicide. How would they ever go back to the way things were before? They’d been married for less than six hours, and already she was forgetting how to behave like his PA.
“You are not wrong.”
The air between them grew thick, so thick she wanted to roll down the window and gulp in the Milanese air. But she was frozen in place while he speared her with those intense eyes. The Eagle of Kyr. My God.
Something was happening, something she couldn’t quite figure out. But then he took a deep breath and shifted in his seat, his hot gaze facing front again, his jaw set in a hard line.
“Your opinion of me is showing, habibti. Make sure it doesn’t happen in public.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m simply pointing out the truth.”
His eyes were bright as he swung around to look at her. “That I am shallow? That I date women for, what was it, their bra sizes?”