Page 35 of Royally Promoted

‘So...?’

Malik half-opened his eyes and slid a glance sideways, to look at her warily.

‘So...?’

‘No point pretending that this never took place.’

‘That would be difficult,’ Malik agreed.

‘In which case we need to talk about it. I know that’s probably not your thing, Malik.’ Lucy propped herself up on her elbows and pinned him with steady, unflinching blue eyes. ‘I can’t picture you doing a lot of chat after sex. I might be wrong, granted—am I? Wrong?’

‘You know me well...’ he murmured in return.

‘But this isn’t going to go away if we ignore it, so here’s what I suggest.’

‘Lucy, maybe we could save the post-mortem for later?’ He heaved himself up so their bodies mirrored one another and then he swept some of her long, tangled hair from her face. ‘I could think of something a lot more interesting to do right now. Nothing too strenuous, but guaranteed satisfaction nevertheless.’

‘That’s very tempting, Malik. I really love the thought of guaranteed satisfaction, but I have a much better idea. I think you should maybe go and get us something to drink...tea or coffee or something...and then we can discuss what happens next.’

Post-coital conversation... He had never wandered that road before. He’d not even come close. The minute sex was done and dusted, Malik’s thoughts invariably turned to work, at which point he would gently but firmly begin the process of removing himself from whatever bed he happened to be in. He should be irritated and impatient with this unwelcome detour. He wasn’t a guy who lay in bed for hours chewing the fat with women he’d just made love to.

‘I’ll go for the something option,’ he murmured. ‘And don’t move a muscle till I’m back.’

He began to slide out of bed but, beforehand, he dropped a kiss on her mouth and then hung around for a couple of seconds longer just because he wanted to taste a little bit more of her...

CHAPTER SEVEN

LUCY HAD FIFTEEN minutes during which she fought her way past hot thoughts of what had happened between them to the more prosaic business of what would happen next between them.

She knew what she wanted, and that was for a repeat performance or even several repeat performances. She was still flushed from love-making and her blood was still rushing through her veins while her emotions clamoured for more. Still, she slipped off the bed to retrieve her scattered clothes, which she put back on before sitting on the sofa by the window. Serious conversations were best had fully clothed and this was going to be a serious one. She wasn’t about to drift into something unless she was in the control room. She wasn’t going to let Malik start thinking that she might be a soft touch who was ready and willing to do whatever he asked.

And she wasn’t going to let him ambush her good intentions by touching her, which seemed to scramble her common sense and turn her to mush. Malik was going to marry. He might not love the woman he would marry, but that woman would be wearing his ring on her finger, and when that happened all bets would be off when it came to her own future.

She had already worked out that a career change would be on the cards. That was a bridge she would have to cross when it came and, even if Malik tried to reassure her that it wasn’t going to happen, she knew in her heart that it would—as she also knew that she wouldn’t try and hang onto to him by her fingernails, until he’d eventually have no option but to prise them off just to get rid of her.

Opening at her feet was a void and gut instinct told her that, if she peered down into that void for too long, she’d go mad. Because the thought of a life without Malik made her heart stop beating...made her want to moan in quiet despair.

It was nothing she couldn’t handle. Yet, she had to grit her teeth and stop herself from spiralling. Truth was that the future and whatever it held was obliterated by what was happening right now, because what was happening right now was unstoppable and would be worth whatever consequences she’d have to deal with at a later date. She accepted that, in a part of her that was primitive and all gut instinct.

She was primly upright, hands on her lap, when Malik pushed open the door, with two brandy glasses in his hands.

‘You’ve put your clothes on,’ he drawled, briefly pausing to look at her narrowly, head tilted to one side. ‘Why have you done that? I want to see you. Please don’t tell me that you’ve decided to become prudish with me. Not after the mind-blowing sex we’ve just had.’

‘The mind-blowing sex we shouldn’t have just had,’ Lucy countered truthfully. ‘But now that we have...’

‘And there’s no point pretending we haven’t...’

‘Correct. Now that we have...and there’s no point pretending that we haven’t...well, that’s a conversation I don’t want to have in bed, because it’s not lazy bed chat.’

‘Brandy?’

Lucy grimaced but accepted the glass from him. He was in his boxers, and seemed in no hurry to follow her lead and put back on his clothes, but he did join her on the sofa, one hundred percent lean, mean, sizzling temptation.

‘What happens next?’

Her eyes strayed to his burnished brown body, the width of his shoulders and the flex of sinew and muscle under the taut, smooth skin—way too delicious for her liking when she wanted to be serious.

And, seriously? Suitable wife on the horizon or no suitable wife on the horizon, Lucy knew that he was a guy who didn’t do commitment, and whatever they’d just shared was never going to go anywhere. She didn’t know whether his arranged marriage would require fidelity. Would that be part of the contract or would he be able to carry on as normal but with the status quo intact and an heir guaranteed?

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