The Sheikh's Baby Scandal(33)

Despite his brave words, he did not know what his response would be should his father back Mohammed.

Should he risk his mother’s past being exposed by taking it to a public vote? What if the title of Crown Prince wasn’t rightly his?

Usually Kedah looked immaculate.

Not this morning.

* * *

London was beautiful, Felicia thought from the back of a luxurious car, and yet it wasn’t the same as when she’d left. The last few weeks had been spent exclusively with Kedah, and nothing felt the same.

This wasn’t a date. He didn’t drop her home first. Kedah was both royal and her boss, so they pulled up outside his apartment and she got out and ensured all his luggage had been removed.

Here, they always said goodbye.

‘I’m assuming that I’ve got the rest of the day off?’

‘Of course.’

It had been a very long business trip, and new boundaries needed to be established now.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow at eight,’ she said, and as she did so Big Ben chimed and they stood there. It was seven in the morning, which meant a separation of twenty-five hours.

‘Come up,’ Kedah said.

‘I’m really tired.’

‘I know you are.’

He could see the shadows under her eyes, and he was exhausted too. But the turbulence on the plane was nothing compared to now.

They were on the edge of being stupid.

Sleep-deprived, wanting, holding back...neither really knew.

She should run, Felicia thought. Jump in the car and go home.

Go to her mother’s tonight for a timely reminder on what falling in love with a certain type of man could do.

But, truly, she didn’t know how to play tough today—especially when Kedah spoke on.

‘You said that if I decide to tell you it won’t go any further. Does that still apply?’

And just when she knew she should walk away, he beckoned her in.

‘You know it does.’

He took her hand as he signalled the driver to remove her cases from the car too.

She stood in the antique elevator beside him, and even then she knew she should get out.

But it wasn’t curiosity that had led her back to him. It was desire.

Every minute available to them she wanted to claim.

She would heal later.

Felicia had been in his apartment a couple of times, though never with Kedah there. Usually she went there to speak with a maid, or went with his driver to collect his luggage.

Now, she was a little unsure of her role as she stepped into the magnificent abode.

The drapes were open, revealing beautiful private gardens, and she gazed out at them as the driver deposited their bags in the hallway.

Felicia knew she wasn’t here as his PA, and yet she wasn’t quite sure if it was her troubleshooting skills that Kedah was seeking now.

‘I’m going to shower,’ he told her, and she nodded. ‘Join me?’

She gave a tired laugh and carried on staring out of the window as Kedah headed off. His presumption should irk her, yet it didn’t.

She wanted him, after all.

It was later that concerned her, not now.

Kedah walked into his large bathroom and removed his clothing. It should feel good to be home after all this time away, yet it never quite did.

Home was Zazinia.

He turned on the shower and the jets of water should have blasted him awake, but he was too tired for that. He stood soaping his body, still questioning the wisdom of telling the truth to another person.

But then he watched as Felicia, a little late, took up his offer to join him.

And for the first time it was good to be home.

‘Wait,’ he told her as she started to undress.

Kedah came out of the shower and she stood as he took care of the intricate buttons he had itched to undo so many hours ago.

This time he gave no orders. Instead he simply did what he must to get her naked. He peeled off her robe and then helped her out of her underwear.

‘You’re shaking?’ he said, because he could feel the tremble in her as she stepped out of her knickers.

‘I think I officially have jet lag,’ she said.

She didn’t.

Well, she probably did. But in that walk from the lounge through his bedroom to the bathroom she had known she was entrenching herself deeper into his life.

He lifted her hair and kissed her neck softly, deeply, intimately, in a way that made her dizzy. And she wished he did not take quite such care, so that later she could fault him, but instead he took her, tired and aching, into the shower.

First he washed her hair, and those strong fingers worked her into a quiet frenzy. He soaped her body and he missed nothing—not a finger, nor that patch of skin behind her knees that she had become aware of on the very first day they met.

And she did nothing. She didn’t even touch him. She just felt the arousal that swirled around them thicken and knew of his increasing pleasure as his breathing tripped on occasion.