Page 47 of Unknown Royal Baby

He kissed her hand again, inhaling the sweet essence of her, then made himself go to the door. He had to leave now or risk forgetting his good intentions. It was going to be a long night.

‘Until the morning. Sleep well.’

‘The food isn’t to your taste?’

Avril started, her gaze locking on Isam’s, and reaction rippled through her belly.

‘It all looks lovely, thank you.’

She surveyed the food on the table between them, yanking her thoughts from last night. Difficult to do when her brain couldn’t get past their renewed intimacy and the pleasure he’d given her.

The table was loaded with every conceivable breakfast item from fragrant savoury dishes to fruits, pastries, breads, dips, jams and even a large block of honeycomb dripping with sweet bounty.

‘Do sheikhs eat like this every morning?’

He chuckled and even that set off reverberations deep inside as if she were attuned to him at a visceral level. ‘I’m afraid I eat rather more frugally usually but I wasn’t sure what you liked. Please help yourself.’

She nodded and reached for flatbread, cheese and a ripe fig.

It was hard to concentrate on breakfast when her mind kept returning to the magic he’d worked on her needy body. She’d been so sure they’d spend the night together yet he’d insisted on going, leaving her restless now despite the best sleep she’d had in months.

She’d been moved when he’d put her needs above his own. How many men would do that? Maybe there was a chance for her to become more than the bride foisted on him by circumstance.

Her blood sang and her appetite sharpened. She bit into warm bread spread with soft cheese, almost groaning with delight at its nutty deliciousness.

‘You like that? Try it with rose-petal jam.’

His tone was husky, eyes glinting as he watched her eat. It was the same expression he’d worn as he watched her climax less than twelve hours earlier. He’d looked at her then as ifshewere the most delectable feast he’d ever tasted. The memory scrambled her brain.

Avril hurried into speech, needing something else to focus on. ‘Tell me about the people at last night’s reception. Who was the woman in silver?’

The woman had looked at the pair of them with the strangest expression, though her face had been bland when she’d approached and congratulated them on their engagement.

‘Silver? Surely there were several.’

‘She was with that man who behaved so oddly. You saw him too, he looked upset and he left without a word.’

Avril watched Isam pause in the act of helping himself to baked eggs. His abrupt stillness made her skin prickle.

She’dknownthere was something strange about the man, though the other guests hadn’t noticed. They’d been watching her and Isam.

Isam finished filling his plate. ‘You really are observant. I remember that from when we worked together.’

Her pulse quickened. ‘You remember more about us together?’

‘Still not everything, but lots, including your initial interview.’ He smiled. ‘You were very impressive. And I remember almost all the days we worked together in London.’

Avril struggled not to feel disappointed that it was only their business dealings he recalled, rather than anything personal. Surely if their intimacy had been important to him he’d remember it.

To Isam she’d been only his PA. Now she was his necessary bride. Never someone he wanted for her own sake.

Don’t even go there. You need to keep your feet firmly on the ground.

‘So who was he, the man who left without congratulating us?’

She watched Isam sip his coffee before replying, his deliberate movements confirming her intuition that this was important. Had he been trying to divert her from her original question?

‘His name is Hafiz and he’s a distant relative. After my father died and while I was in a critical condition, the Royal Council appointed him as regent. He held that position until it became clear I’d live, and then for a while afterwards until I was well enough to rule.’

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