Conveniently His Princess. Olivia Gates

golden hair, molten chocolate eyes and thick cream complexion, Aram was her total opposite. But after she’d seen both their parents, she’d realized he’d manifested the absolute best in both, too.

      His eyes were a more dazzling shade of azure than that of his French mother’s—the most vivid, hypnotic color she’d ever seen. From his mother, too, and her family, he’d also inherited his prodigious height and amplified it. He’d added a generous brush of burnished copper to his Armenian-American father’s swarthy complexion, a deepened gloss and luxury to his raven mane and an enhanced bulk and breadth to his physique.

      Then came the details. And the devil was very much in those. A dancing, laughing, knowing one, aware of the exact measure of their unstoppable influence. Of every slash and hollow and plane of a face stamped with splendor and uniqueness, every bulge and sweep and slope of a body emanating maleness and strength, every move and glance and intonation demonstrating grace and manliness, power and perfection. All in all, he was glory personified.

      Now, exuding enough charisma and confidence to power a small city, he towered across from her, calmly sweeping his silk black jacket out of the way, shoving his hands into his pockets. The movement had the cream shirt stretching over the expanse of virility it clung to. Her lips tingled as his chiseled mouth quirked up into that lethal smile.

      “I submit a motion that I have been unjustly tried.”

      Aram’s obvious enjoyment, not to mention his biding his time before springing his presence on her again, made retaliation a necessity.

      Her voice, when she managed to operate her vocal cords, thankfully sounded cool and dismissive. “And I submit you’ve not only gotten away with your crimes but you’ve been phenomenally rewarded for them.”

      “If you’re referring to my current business success, how are you managing to correlate it to my alleged crimes?”

      She fought not to lick the dryness from her lips, to bite into the numbness that was spreading through them. “I’m managing because you’ve built said success using the same principles with which you perpetrated those crimes.”

      His eyes literally glittered with mischief, becoming bluer before her dazzled ones. “Then I am submitting that those principles you ascribe to me and your proof of them were built around pure circumstantial evidence.”

      Her eyebrows shot up. “So you’re not after a retrial. What you really want is your whole criminal record expunged.”

      He raised those large, perfectly formed hands like someone blocking blows. “I wouldn’t dream of universally dismissing my convictions.” His painstakingly sculpted lips curled into a delicious grin. “That would be pushing my luck. But I do demand an actual primary hearing of my testimony, since I distinctly remember one was never taken.”

      Although she felt her heart sputtering out of control, she tried to match his composure outwardly. “Who says you get a hearing at all? You certainly didn’t grant others such mercy or consideration.”

      The scorching amusement in those gemlike eyes remained unperturbed. “By others you mean Maysoon, I assume?”

      “Hers was the case I observed firsthand. As I am a stickler for justice, I will not pass judgment on those I know of only through secondhand testimonies and hearsay.”

      His eyes widened on what looked like genuine surprise.

      Yeah, right. As if he could feel anything for real.

      “That’s very...progressive of you. Elevated, even.” At her baleful glance, something that simulated seriousness took over his expression. “No, I mean it. In my experience, when people don’t like someone, they demonize them wholesale, stop granting them even the possibility of fairness.”

      She pursed her lips, refusing to consider the possibility of his sincerity. “Lauding my merits won’t work, you know.”

      “In granting me a hearing?”

      “In granting you leniency you haven’t earned and certainly don’t deserve.” He opened his mouth, and she raised her hand. “Don’t you think you’ve taken your joke far enough?”

      For a moment he looked actually confused before a careful expression replaced uncertainty. “What joke, exactly?”

      She rolled her eyes. “Spare me.”

      “Or you’ll spear me?” At her exasperated rumble, he raised his hands again, the coaxing in his eyes rising another notch. “That was lame. But I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I am barely keeping up with you.”

      “Yeah, right. Since you materialized behind me like some capricious spirit, you’ve been ready with something right off the smart-ass chart before I’ve even finished speaking.”

      He shook his head, causing his collar-length mane to undulate. “If you think that was easy, think again. You’re making me struggle for every inch before you snatch it away with your next lob. For the first time in my life I have no idea what will spill out of someone’s lips next, so give me a break.”

      “I would ask where you want it, but I have to be realistic. Considering our respective physiques, I probably can’t give you one without the help of heavy, blunt objects.”

      The next moment, all her nerves fired up as he proceeded to subject her to the sight and sound of his all-out amusement, a demonstration so...virile, so debilitating, each peal was a new bolt forking through her nervous system.

      When he at last brought his mirth under control, his lips remained stretched the widest she’d seen them, showing off that set of extraordinary white teeth in the most devastating smile she’d had the misfortune of witnessing. He even wiped away a couple of tears of hilarity. “You can give me compound fractures with your tongue alone. As for your glares, we’re talking incineration.”

      Hating that even when he was out of breath and wheezing, he sounded more hard-hitting for it, she gritted out, “If I could do that, it would be the least I owe you.”

      “What have I done now?” Even his pseudolament was scrumptious. This guy needed some kind of quarantine. He shouldn’t be left free to roam the realm of flimsy mortals. “Is this about the joke you’ve accused me of perpetrating?”

      “There’s no accusation here—just statement of fact. You’ve been enjoying one big fat joke at my expense since you stumbled on me in Johara’s office.”

      His eyes sobered at once, filling with something even more distressing than mischief and humor. Indulgence? “I’ve been relishing the experience immensely, but not as a joke and certainly not at your expense.”

      Her heart gave her ribs another vicious kick. She had to stop this before her heart literally bruised.

      She raised her hands. “Okay, this is going nowhere. Let’s say I believe you. Give me another reason you’re doing this. And don’t tell me that you care one way or the other what I think in general or what I think of you specifically. You don’t care about what anyone thinks.”

      The earnestness in his eyes deepened. “You’re right. I care nothing for what others think of me.”

      “And you’re absolutely right not to.”

      That seemed to stun him yet again. “I am?” At her nod, he prodded, “That includes everyone?”

      She nodded again. “Of course. What other people think of you, no matter who they are, is irrelevant. Unsolicited opinions are usually a hindrance and a source of discontentment, if not outright unhappiness. So carry on not caring, go take your leave from Johara and Shaheen and return to your universe where no one’s opinion matters...as it shouldn’t.”

      “At least grant me the right to care or not care.” Those unbelievable eyes seemed to penetrate right through her as his gaze narrowed in on her. “And whether it comes under caring or not, I do happen to be extremely interested in your opinion of me. Now, let me escort you back to the party. Let me get us a drink