The Sheikh of Kirisil scoffed. A shiver of shock moved through her. Scoffing? At Taavi’s wishes? That wasn’t the Amare she thought she knew.

  “That contest...” Amare speared a piece of lamb with his fork. “It’s part of the old Kirisil. I have plans to phase it out in the next few years.”

  “Why? I’ve seen pearl diving in other countries I’ve visited. I have to think it brings in tourists and celebrates local culture here, too. Why would you give that up?”

  Amare took a drink of wine, his eyes on hers, the playful light gone. “The divers here do it strictly in the old ways. No goggles. No tanks. No respirators. It’s incredibly dangerous. We lose people every year to accidents.” He put his glass down. “Besides, the world’s view of pearling changes by the day. Kirisil doesn’t need to celebrate something potentially scandalous. I’ll do away with it, and everyone will move on.”

  Her heart pounded. It wasn’t that he had raised his voice, only that his tone seemed so final. After another heartbeat of silence, she gathered herself.

  “Taavi wanted to see it. Very much. He thought I’d be able to convince you to take us.” A strange ache pulsed at her throat. “Please don’t make me a disappointment.”

  He looked back at her in stubborn silence.

  Nadia cleared her throat. “This might be the only time I’m able to see this, since I’ll be moving on in a few months. Who knows when I’ll be back? By the time I visit again, you might not be holding the contest anymore.”

  Amare’s jaw tightened. Heat flashed through his eyes. He was going to say no. She was sure of it.

  “All right,” Amare said, and relief hit her like a gust of wind. “I’ll even allow Taavi to choose the winner. It’s my job when I attend, but I’ll let him do the honors this one time. This final time.”

  She was out of her seat before she knew what she was doing. Taking the two steps around to Amare’s side of the table. Taking his face in her hands...and kissing him. Soundly. Deeply. Gratitude was a burst of heat across her chest, and she didn’t know why it felt so powerful—why it felt like she could never put words to that feeling, not ever.

  Embarrassment followed on its heels. Nadia moved to pull away, to end this impulsive, foolish kiss.

  Amare didn’t let her.

  He put his hands on her waist and pulled her into his lap. She fell into it like she belonged there, balanced on his hard thighs, his strong arms wrapped around her. Amare took over the kiss. Made it deeper. Hotter. He swept his tongue between her lips and tasted her, and Nadia found herself tumbling headfirst into passion that felt like a flame. No. Not a flame. It felt like the first sweet gasps of air after diving down deep and rising again.

  7

  Amare hadn’t been able to say no to Nadia.

  When she’d looked at him with those huge, dark eyes and asked him not to make her a disappointment to Taavi, something had shifted in his heart. What was the harm of agreeing to take Taavi to the contest once, if it made Nadia’s eyes light up? If it made her smile break over her face like a sunrise, and if it made her come to him and kiss him the way she did?

  They’d had to untangle themselves from the chair when the kiss was finished and a staff member cleared his throat outside the door. Dessert had been sweetly painful. Amare wanted more of her. He wouldn’t take it, however. The kiss was enough. He couldn’t go further than the kiss.

  Fine—a little further. He’d ordered Nadia a new camera and laptop for shooting her videos, and when he’d brought the boxes to her room, she’d squawked in surprise and immediately refused to take them.

  “Oh, I could never keep these. They’re too nice. Too much, Amare.”

  “No merchant in the city will let you return them. And neither will I.” Amare hadn’t been able to keep the smile off his face at her pretty blush, at the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the top-of-the-line equipment.

  Nadia accepted defeat—and the gifts—gracefully after that. She’d given him a soft thank you that he would hear in his dreams for the rest of his life.

  And now the three of them rode in the Range Rover, Nadia’s equipment in a special backpack he’d bought for the purpose of carrying the laptop and camera safely, to Kirisil’s coast to watch the pearl divers.

  Taavi hardly said a word the entire drive. He kept his face turned to the window, his whole body tense and quivering with excitement. It broke Amare’s heart a little to know part of Taavi’s tension was the fear that Amare would change his mind.

  Not today.

  They rolled through the small coastal village where the contest was held, the ocean glittering before them. The diving happened in a cove with gorgeous rocky shores. The outcroppings glistened from the waves, and as Amare lifted Taavi out of the Range Rover and set him on the ground, Nadia sighed next to him.

  “This is stunning.”

  “I’ll get you a better view. Come this way.”

  He put his hand on the small of her back. She shivered and leaned in. Oh, Amare loved that. He would miss touching her this way when she was gone. Another thing he wouldn’t think about today. With Taavi’s hand in his and Nadia warm and excited at his side, he led them down a wide path to the docks.

  Because he was touching her, Amare felt the moment Nadia froze up. It happened when it became obvious they’d be going onto the dock itself—and that two palace staff members were waiting to help them onto a sailboat.

  “We’ll be in the center of the contest on that yacht,” Amare murmured into her ear. “That’s where Taavi will judge the pearls found by local pearlers.”

  “Oh, I—” She was pressing back into his hand as if she wanted to turn and flee. “I’m not sure about that.”

  Amare stopped, and so did Taavi, only he was tugging slightly in the opposite direction. His son wanted to be on that boat. “What’s wrong?”

  Nadia’s teeth teased at her lip, and she tried to put another smile on. “I’m a little afraid of the water. I don’t swim.”

  “Does that mean won’t or can’t?” Amare had never been so aware of the photographers on shore, of the staff watching, of his son holding his hand. It was strange, the emotions warring inside him. He wanted her to enjoy the boat. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted it in equal measure to how much he wanted this to go well for Taavi. It would be his son’s only chance. They couldn’t go back now.

  Nadia shook her head. “Can’t.”

  He laughed, spreading his fingers out across her back, rubbing a little. He wouldn’t let the world see that the Sheikh of Kirisil was nervous about this entire event.

  “There are plenty of life vests aboard.” He pulled her in closer, looking into her eyes. This was the photo they’d splash on the front pages of the papers. “You’ll be entirely safe, I promise.”

  Taavi let go of his hand, and before Amare could speak, his son was around to Nadia’s other side. The little boy slipped his hand into Nadia’s.

  “Come on, Nadia, it’ll be fun. I’ll get you a life jacket.”

  Nadia, who had looked ready to run only a moment before, melted at Taavi’s touch. Amare couldn’t have stopped smiling for all the world. He kept his hand firmly on his fake fiancée’s back, and the three of them made their way across the wooden planks of the dock. At the yacht, Amare helped Nadia aboard and followed with Taavi. The ship was large and sturdy and gleaming, and the weather was perfect. Warm breezes played with Nadia’s hair and caressed his face, and the water was a clear azure color that he wanted to bottle up.

  A crew member brought life vests, and Amare helped Nadia into hers, his hands doing up the zipper for her. Another exercise in restraint. He wanted to touch her, not the nylon and foam of the life vest, but he settled for keeping her quite safe.

  The ship cast off from the dock. They anchored out in the cove—not so far from the shore that she’d truly be in danger even if she fell overboard, but far enough that Taavi had a view of all the divers on the rocks. He stayed glued to the railing and watched them go under one by one. When they found pearls they were proud of, they swam out to the ship and climbed a ladder attached to the side. After about an hour, one of the men boarded with a net bag filled with oysters.

  “Come see how to find pearls,” he announced, and the three of them gathered around for a lesson. Nadia eagerly took an oyster and the fat-handled oyster knife the diver offered.

  “This is tough!” she said after she broke her first shell. Then two more. Amare kept himself from cringing outwardly. She was so engaged, so focused, hanging on the man’s every word, and yet—she still failed so utterly.

  “Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked her as he opened another shell. His father had taken him to these contests when he was a boy, so Amare had learned early on how to extract the pearls. He hadn’t found one yet today. Nadia lifted her eyebrows. They were almost shoulder to shoulder on the deck of the ship, working on the oysters. “To keep getting it wrong,” he explained.

  She rolled her eyes, laughing. “Give me another oyster.”

  Nadia struggled with that one, too, but before he gave in to the urge to dismiss the man—this really couldn’t continue—the oyster popped open in her fingers. Nadia dug out the lumpiest pearl he’d ever seen.

  Her face lit up, full of delight, and she leapt to her feet. “Did you see that?” Nadia held out the pearl to him, and he found himself rising to get a better look at it. It was so ugly, and she was so excited.

  Amare leaned in and kissed her. He didn’t care about the photographers—not now—only that he wanted the feel of that smile on his lips.

  Several hours later, after Taavi had crowned the winner, they piled into the Range Rover and headed back to the palace. Taavi fell asleep in his seat, clutching the winning pearl in his fist. Amare had paid triple the market price for it.

  Nadia looked sun swept and beautiful in the seat next to him. “Today was the perfect day,” she said as the Range Rover pulled through the palace gates. “You made Taavi so happy.”

  “And what about you?”

  Her smile widened. “Me, too.”

  He felt a pull to her, like the pull of the tide, or of gravity. That pride in her eyes—it made him want her with every inch of his being.

  Inside the palace, he tucked Taavi into bed. Nadia waited at the doorway, and as soon as Amare pulled the bedroom door closed behind him, he let himself speak. “Come to my rooms with me.”

  Her pupils expanded the slightest bit. “I’d love to.”

  His own apartments were at the end of the hallway, the biggest ones in the palace. He led her through the relatively public foyer and meeting area and to the private sitting room where they’d had that first early-morning meeting. Amare stopped her by the sofa and looked into her eyes.

  “I think we have chemistry, and it would be a shame not to explore it.”

  There. He’d said it. It was out in the open between them, along with the kisses they’d shared, the touches, the looks—

  “I agree.” Nadia took a small step closer.

  He put his hands on her upper arms, not knowing if he meant to hold her in place or pull her into his chest. “A physical relationship is all I’m looking for. I don’t want to mislead you about my intentions.”

  A flicker of emotion crossed her face, gone before he could blink. “I don’t want to mislead you about mine, either. I want you, but not everything that comes with a relationship.” She rocked up to the balls of her feet and down again. “I want you now.”

  “Thank God.”

  He wrapped a hand around her head and kissed her, not in the photogenic way he’d done it before, but in the way that he could only do behind closed doors. Deeply. Possessively. Nadia sighed into his mouth, her body melting under his hands, and yes, yes— He’d held himself back for so long. It was a tremendous relief to give in.

  Amare couldn’t stop, anyway. He tasted her mouth until he needed to taste more of her, and then he dragged kisses down the side of her neck, over the collarbone peeking out of today’s dress, and when he reached the expanse of fabric he got to his knees.

  And did what he’d wanted to do all day.

  He pushed the dress up to her hips, and Nadia caught it in one hand. Amare made quick work of the soft shorts she wore underneath, stripping her out of them and her panties alike and then pressing her thighs apart with both hands. Nadia took a series of short, sharp breaths as he let her feel how close he was without touching her.

  Then Amare flicked his tongue between her legs. He moved his hands around to steady her and pulled her closer, pressing his tongue as deeply into her sweet flesh as he could get. A groan escaped him. She tasted better than he’d imagined. More forbidden. It lit up a part of him that he’d been pushing away for so long he’d almost forgotten how to reach for it.

  Nadia’s hands came down on his shoulders to hold herself up, and her body bucked in his hands as she panted. He wrote letters with his tongue between her legs. Poems. Songs. He held her to him and devoured her until she tensed, peaking, and another rush of sweetness met his tongue.

  Another man would stand up, would take her to the bedroom now, but not Amare. He stayed on his knees and coaxed another orgasm from her. He didn’t get to his feet until her thighs were shaking.

  “Amare,” she begged. She seemed lost for any other words, and his name had never sounded like this from anyone else’s mouth. “Amare.”

  He rose to his feet and took her in his arms in one motion. Amare’s whole body, head to toe, ached for her. She took in a breath as they crossed the threshold to his bedroom. Amare saw the space with new eyes—the neutral sand color of the walls, the gleaming wood of his bedframe. The crisp white of the bedding. He spread Nadia out on that landscape, her red dress sliding up her thighs.

  “Stay exactly that way,” he told her.

  She obeyed, her cheeks pink, eyes glowing. “What are you going to do?”

  He reached for the buttons of his shirt.

  Instantly, Nadia was on her knees.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I know you said to stay, but I have to do this.”

  She pushed his hands away and worked at the buttons herself. Pulled at them. One flew off as she wrestled the shirt back off his shoulders and went for the hem of his undershirt. Amare had been rendered speechless that she would openly disobey him. Speechless...and harder than iron.

  He let her help with the shirt and made quick work of his pants himself. Nadia’s eyes followed the progress of his zipper, her eyes widening as his thick length stood out.

  “If you want this,” he said mildly, “then I expect you back on the bed.”

  He’d never seen anyone scramble back and spread her thighs so quickly. Nadia hiked her dress up to her hips and parted her lips. Amare climbed over her onto the bed, pushing the dress up farther and farther until it was at her neck. Until she had to writhe and wriggle underneath him to get it over her head. He did away with her bra, and then—

  Amare was transfixed.

  Nadia naked was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her skin glowed, and he traced a finger around her peaked nipples, admiring the dark-rose shade. She bit her lip.

  “Amare.”

  “What, I can’t take my time with you?”

  “No.” She put her hands on the side of his face and pulled his mouth to hers. All down his spine, fireworks exploded. He wrenched himself away from her long enough to reach for a condom from the bedside table and roll it on, and then he centered himself between her legs again. This. This was where he belonged. Nowhere else. He couldn’t stay, god, no, he couldn’t stay, but for this moment—

  He nudged at her opening, and Nadia wrapped her legs around him, angling her hips and taking him in the first inch. He wanted to drive in hard, take her all in one thrust, but he wouldn’t unleash himself on her like that. Not this time. Instead, he braced himself on his forearms and rocked his hips, taking her in powerful, short strokes that went deeper each time. She clenched and fluttered around him, her eyes closing, and he thought if he just—

  Yes. There. That was the angle. Nadia came again with a moan that yanked him over the edge, faster than he was expecting, harder, and now Amare let go. He couldn’t hold himself back as passion spilled out of him. Nadia clung to his neck, whispering words he couldn’t understand in his ear. They were taken up by heat and release.

  When it was over, he let his body fall to the pillows, wrapped an arm around her, and let sleep cover them both.

  8

  It was dark when Amare woke up, and for a moment he couldn’t place himself in time. The bed was warm. Too warm for him to be alone. A few blinks, and the shape next to him resolved into Nadia. Her dark curls fanned out behind her, and her breathing was even and calm.

  But he couldn’t go back to sleep.

  Something wasn’t right. Not Nadia—it felt right for her to be here. Too right, in fact. But that wasn’t something to dwell on in the middle of the night.

  Amare lay there for a few more minutes before he got up and found pants and a soft shirt. That would be enough to go down to the kitchen and clear his mind. Something nagged at him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Better to go down and have some nkhaat pane. When he was a boy, his mother had told him not to lie awake. Get up and do something for a few minutes. Then you’ll feel better.

  He would certainly feel better if he had some nkhaat pane. It had been his favorite for as long as he could remember. It was, without a doubt, the best snack for a person who was stressed and couldn’t sleep.

  Down in the huge royal kitchens, Amare turned on a single low light and opened one of the refrigerators. Inside, several containers of the fried delicacy were stacked on top of each other, waiting for him. The staff always kept it on hand for him. Amare pulled one of the containers out of the fridge and went for a plate. He’d have to send a note down in the morning, thanking them for keeping it stocked. His plate heated while he took a fork from the drawer of gleaming silverware, and then Amare sat down at a large table at the side of the kitchen.