She stood on the carpet, trying to block out the shouts and cheers and the flashing lights of the cameras.
There was that smile she had fallen for, only she didn’t welcome it tonight.
There was the man whom her body adored, for it wanted to run to him. Her shaking legs wanted to run to the shield of his arms, but her anger with him meant that she fought it as he walked towards her and finally came to a stand.
‘Leila,’ James said in a very clear voice. ‘You are the only woman for me, I know that...’
She wanted to vomit.
For the past twelve weeks she had been brilliant at it, yet it wouldn’t happen now.
She wanted to stand before the man who was holding out a ring and vomit at his feet. Yet her cover had been exposed and she was back to being a princess again, which meant she knew how to behave in public.
‘You,’ James continued his, for something that should surely be personal, rather loud speech, ‘and our baby mean the world to me. I have never been happier than when I am with you. Like all couples we’ve had our ups and downs but I’m hoping,’ James said, and then he hesitated and Leila frowned because she knew he was faking that he was possibly about to cry, ‘in fact, I’m praying...’ James dropped to his knees and held out a ring and she stood with poise.
Wait for it, James thought.
Just wait till that television crew was ready.
Yep, now they were.
‘Princess Leila of Surhaadi, and forever my princess, please give me the honour of making you my wife. Leila, will you marry me?’
She stared back at him, into his chocolate-brown eyes, and he was so bloody assured that he didn’t even blink.
He knew as well as Leila did that she had no choice but to say yes.
‘It would be my honour,’ Leila suitably answered, and not just the crowd outside went wild. It was if the whole of Manhattan erupted, for in Times Square they had been holding their collective breath but started cheering when the news flashed up.
SHE SAID YES!
James placed the ring he had today chosen on her rigid finger and, as he stood, she gave him a loving smile. But her golden eyes flashed fire as he moved in to kiss her and then a smiling Leila moved her head.
‘I hate you,’ Leila whispered to his ear as their cheeks met the other’s.
‘I don’t care.’ James pulled back and smiled into her eyes and then sealed their fate with a very slow, very deep kiss, as the crowd sighed in pleasure.
It was done.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘YOU BIT ME...’ James accused.
They were in the elevator, heading up to his suite, and James was wiping her lipstick from his mouth and trying to fathom that she had bitten his tongue, and worse, thanks to his gathered crowd, he hadn’t been able to react.
‘If you put your tongue in my mouth, then know it shall get bitten,’ Leila said, tossing her hair in his face. ‘Every time. And that wasn’t a bite, that was a mere warning.’