Gambling with the Crown. Lynn Harris Raye

suddenly pointed a manicured finger at Emily. “You think I don’t know what’s going on here? You think I don’t know about your assistant—” she somehow made the word sound dirty, as if she’d said whore instead “—about how she’s tried to come between us from the beginning? She wants you for herself!”

      Emily opened her mouth to utter a protest, but Kadir was there first. “I don’t particularly care what Miss Bryant thinks of you. It is what I think that matters. And I am finished.”

      He strode to her side, took her by the elbow and marched her toward the front door of his suite while she screamed at him. Then she was thrust through the door, and it closed again with a thud. Kadir turned, his face black with fury. Emily dropped her gaze and studied her shoes while her heart thrummed hard.

      She had never witnessed the breakup scene before, but she knew it had played out again and again over the past four years she’d worked for him. She could almost feel sorry for the women who committed the mistake of thinking there was a future with him. He was rich, titled, wealthy and successful in his own right. Every woman he dated wanted to tame him. None of them had managed it yet.

      “I am sorry you had to hear that.”

      Emily’s head snapped up to meet his hot gaze. He’d moved closer to her and her pulse skidded with unwelcome heat. “I don’t want you for myself,” she blurted. Her cheeks blazed.

      Great.

      Kadir quirked an eyebrow. “Really? I am told I am quite delightful. How stunning to encounter a woman who does not want me.”

      For a moment she didn’t know what to say. And then she realized he was teasing her. Emily dropped her gaze again. She needed this job and she wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize it. He might be humored this time, but she could not let it pass. “Forgive my outburst, Your Highness.”

      “There is nothing to forgive. Lenore was incredibly rude to you.”

      “It won’t happen again, I assure you.”

      He laughed. “Oh, I think it will.”

      Emily could only stare at him, her pulse a drumbeat in her throat, her fingers. And then she realized he meant the scene with Lenore.

      “Don’t look so worried, Miss Bryant,” he continued, his voice smooth as silk, hard as steel. “Lenore will not be back. But there will no doubt be others.”

      Emily wanted to roll her eyes. She resisted the urge. Kadir’s eyebrow quirked again.

      “You wish to say something?”

      “Your breakfast will be here any moment.”

      “That is not it.” His voice was a knowing murmur as his gaze dropped to her lips, back up again. Shockingly, she felt as if he’d touched her. As if he’d taken one of his golden fingers and slid it across the pad of her lips. He grinned, and her insides turned to liquid. She was not happy about it either. “Come, Emily. We’ve known each other for nearly four years now. You know more about my life than anyone besides me.”

      He’d called her Emily a handful of times. It always rattled her the way his accent slid over the syllables of her name. Like a caress. Like the touch of a lover.

      As if she would know what that was like these days. It had been so long since she’d last had sex she couldn’t even remember when it was. She traveled too much, moving with Kadir as he trotted the globe and built his skyscrapers. It left little time for a personal life.

      Except for when they were in Chicago. Then she took time to go see her dad, to make sure he had everything he needed. Dating was hardly a blip on her radar compared to that.

      “You pay me to keep your life in order, not to advise you on it.”

      “And yet you wanted to say something. I could see it in your expression. The way your lips pursed ever so slightly. The downward tilt of your eyebrows, the flare of your nostrils. The green fire in your eyes. I would like to know what it was.”

      “I prefer to keep my job.” Her voice contained an edge of tartness that she couldn’t quite control. The green fire in her eyes?

      “And you shall. I give you leave to say what you wish. I’d rather not have you pop from holding it in, Miss Bryant.”

      Emily sighed. He wasn’t going to give up until she’d spoken. If she knew anything about this man, she knew that. She’d watched him in negotiations, watched the way he closed in on his prey like a hawk, circling ever closer, until the moment he snatched them up and got precisely what he wanted, whether it was a bargain on steel, a commitment to sell only to him, incentives on a piece of land or a premium from someone who desperately wanted his company to build their new skyscraper.

      “I was going to say that it was ridiculous to expect more of the same. That perhaps if you conducted your, er, affairs a little differently, they might not get to this stage.”

      He looked amused. Heat flared in her belly.

      “And how should I conduct my affairs? I would imagine that swearing off women for good would do it. But so far as I like women—and I certainly do—there will always be some who think I am going to make them my princess. They never take it kindly when they find out it is not going to happen.”

      “Then perhaps you should choose women based on their intellect and not their bra size.”

      He burst out laughing and a prickle of something ran up her spine. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even embarrassment. Perhaps it was relief. Relief that she’d said the words after all.

      “I will take your charming suggestion under advisement, I assure you.”

      “You did ask.”

      “Indeed I did.” He raised his arms, stretching like a supple, sleek cat. The robe fell open to reveal the tight muscles of his abdomen—along with that damn arrow of hair again. Thankfully, he was wearing a pair of black silk boxers that were perfectly decent. Emily averted her gaze as her heart rate picked up once more. Fresh fire licked across her skin, shortened her breath.

      She forced it down again, buried it beneath the mountain of decorum and duty she always lived by. She was not the sort of person to be ruled by urges. She was not the sort of person to have urges—not anymore. She’d worked very hard to make sure of that.

      So what on earth was the matter with her today? He was devilishly attractive, but that was nothing new. She’d thought herself inoculated a long time ago. Apparently, he could still rev up her pulse under the right circumstances.

      Perhaps she should make an appointment with her doctor. Her hormones were surely out of whack or something. It was the only explanation.

      Kadir moved with liquid grace, sauntering back into his bedroom while Emily stood and gulped in air. He didn’t close the door and she soon heard the sound of the shower. She imagined him dropping the robe, sliding the silk boxers down his lean, hard thighs—

      Emily gripped her notebook hard enough to make her fingers ache. Then she smoothed her hair, straightened her clothing even though it was perfectly straight already, and went to check on Kadir’s breakfast.

      * * *

      The day had been long and productive. Kadir sat in the limo as it moved through the brightly lit streets of Paris and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, easing the kinks of sitting at a desk for the past few hours. He’d been going over the projections for his newest project. This office building in Paris’s business district was simply the latest in a series of buildings he’d constructed over the past couple of years.

      But he loved the process, loved watching the steel skeleton rise high above the city and take on a life of its own. This building wasn’t as tall as some he’d built, but it was modern and sleek and efficient. The company that had hired him would be very pleased when he was finished. He prided himself upon it.

      Beside him, his assistant typed away on her laptop. He slanted a glance toward her. Miss Emily