Royals Untamed!. Annie West

trust you are happy with your purchases,’ Kazim said, his mood changing as he closed the door. She looked at him, taken aback as a glimmer of humour lightened his eyes and tugged at his lips, melting her heart with incredible speed.

      ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said softly, wanting to defuse whatever it was that zipped between them, because retaliation certainly hadn’t helped so far. ‘There was no need for all of this, though; it cost a fortune.’

      ‘You are married to the Prince of Barazbin.’ He glared at her, that moment of humour gone, as if he thought she’d made a judgement on him. ‘There are certain standards to maintain. That is why I have been more than generous already.’

      She frowned. Was he now going to bring his offer of treatment for Claude into all this? ‘And I’m grateful.’ She was. To think that Claude could finally get the treatment he needed and Annie would be able to give up a job she hated to look after her son. That reason and that alone was why she was here having this discussion in the first place.

      Before she had time to think further, Kazim crossed the room and stood perilously close to her. Just as it had done when he’d held her on the street, her heart raced wildly and she slipped once again under his spell. She swallowed hard against skittering nerves which sprang to life, intensifying his touch. How had she ever thought she could remain immune to him? Just his voice was enough, but to have him this close was far too much.

      Amber looked up into his eyes, which searched her face as if looking for answers, or trying to convey something to her. She dropped her gaze, suddenly shy. Gently, his fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him again. Her breath caught in her throat as he slowly lowered his head, his lips brushing over hers, making her eyelids flutter and close.

      She swayed towards him, wanting more, needing more. This was the only man she’d ever wanted. One she’d stayed true to, despite his hurtful rejection of her on their wedding night. She blushed as she remembered that night. It had been her complete inexperience that had made her all but throw herself at him. She hadn’t wanted him to think she couldn’t even kiss a man. She’d flirted, flaunting herself, and had tried to kiss him.

      She could still feel the shock that had iced her blood as he’d pushed her away, a look of repulsion on his handsome face. She’d been so determined not to show her hurt she’d continued the act of bravado, anything but admit failure.

      His fingers, warm under her chin, now melted that ice and she allowed herself to be just what she was—innocent and inexperienced. Because right at this moment she couldn’t be anything else.

      Kazim pulled away and her eyes opened. Nervously she looked up at him. The swirling desire in his eyes was not what she’d expected to see. His fingers still held her chin and the pad of his thumb moved to rub lightly over her lips, prolonging the tingle his kiss had started. She dragged in a ragged breath, wishing he would kiss her again, but not daring to move, not wanting to risk his rejection once more.

      ‘You should get changed.’ His voice was husky and a shiver slipped down her spine, but still he held her there. Then, briskly, he moved back, broke the spell, startling her. ‘I have a call to make, so I shall leave you in peace to get ready.’

      Amber blinked against the shock of what had just happened. She touched her lips, her hands shaking. Was it possible that he didn’t hate her as much as she’d thought, that the gentle loving touch of his lips meant something more? Hope sprang to life and with a tentative smile she gathered up the bags and headed for one of the bedrooms to shower and change.

      A short while later, nerves skittered through her once again. She studied her reflection in the mirror. It had been so long since she’d worn such lovely clothes she’d almost forgotten how it felt.

      The black dress moulded to her body, the sweetheart neckline scooping perhaps a little too low, but the shoes that had been insisted upon in the boutique were gorgeous. Strappy black sandals encrusted with so much sparkle every small move made them glitter—expensively.

      Was this a little too much for dinner? She was about to slip them off and go for her usual choice of plain heels when an impatient knock startled her.

      ‘It is time to go, Amber.’

      Shyly she opened the door, watching his handsome face for a reaction. Had she chosen well or overdone it? Her skin heated as his eyes slid slowly downwards—it was almost as if he was caressing her with their dark depths. She held her breath. When his gaze moved back to her face the desire swirling there shocked her, setting off a chain reaction of fizzing heat hurtling through her.

      ‘You look...’ he paused, his head slightly at an angle ‘...exquisite.’

      Unable to help herself, she let her gaze linger on his face before taking in the full impact of him dressed for dinner. The crisp whiteness of his shirt made his tanned skin more pronounced, the formal black tie suit fitted him to perfection, showcasing his strength perfectly. The Western clothes highlighted his rugged power, intensifying the rush of heat around her body.

      When she looked back up at his face, he was smiling, a kind of sexy come-to-bed smile that made her heart crash inside her chest. It was like floundering at sea. She was truly out of her depth with Kazim.

      ‘Do I measure up?’ he teased and stepped back a pace, allowing for better scrutiny.

      ‘I think you know the answer to that,’ she said, aware and a little unnerved by the husky tone of her voice as she opted for bravado. ‘You know it only too well.’

      Despite the fact that he’d just stepped away from her, a spark of fire leapt to life between them—the same heat that had been smouldering since he’d first said her name at the club. She held his look, desperately trying to hide how unsettled she was right now.

      When he laughed it shocked her; it was such a deep, rich sound. Laughter lines creased at the sides of his eyes and he looked much younger. More like the man she’d lost her heart to in Barazbin—and much less troubled.

      ‘A very brave answer,’ he said as he held out his arm to her. She looked at him a moment longer before linking her arm with his, enjoying being made to feel special. It wouldn’t last long, of that she was sure. So why not make the most of it? He was, after all, the first and only man she’d given her heart to.

      The sensation of walking on air had little to do with the fantastic dress and glamorous high heels she wore, but everything to do with the man on whose arm she was. Beside her, he carried himself with confidence and command. Every move he made transferred to her from the light touch of her arm in his.

      As they waited for the lift her heart raced and, just as she wondered if she could go out to dinner with him, the lift doors opened. Other guests spilled out and he released her arm, standing aside then waiting for her to enter the lift.

      She pressed her lips together in an effort to control the dizzying effect he was having on her and allowed her eyes to close for a moment. Would he keep up this charm offensive during dinner? She certainly hoped not; every glance, every lingering look, was chipping away at her defensive wall. He’d hurt her once. He could do it again. Whatever her reason for returning to Barazbin, she could never let him know how she still felt about him.

      With this in mind, she held her head high as they exited the lift, her arm once more loosely wrapped in his. They made their way towards the dining room and she sensed a ripple of silence following them, as if everyone they passed stopped to look.

      She glanced at his profile. The strength and pride there left her in no doubt that he was aware of the reaction his presence was causing, just as she’d told him only moments before. A gentle hush fell on the dining room as they entered; it seemed to last an eternity, but it must have only been seconds before the maître d’ came forward and showed them to their table.

      The table, situated discreetly away from other diners, with candles, a single red rose, was set for two. It was beautifully romantic, but a table for lovers.

      ‘I thought you were meeting others.’ She could scarcely breathe the words out, horribly aware of the hitch in her