Royal Temptation

‘It’s just a painting.’

It was more than that, though, to Mikael, and he looked at it and thought of the future and the next fracture that would appear when Layla left.

She wanted to know more—there was so much that she wanted to know—yet intuitively she knew that he had already shared more than he was comfortable with. It might take months, possibly years, to truly know him, and all they had were days.

‘Layla…’ Mikael broke the tense silence because there was a question that needed to be asked. If she felt a tenth of what he did then something needed to be addressed. ‘Are you sure that you want…?’

She did not want his question—she did not want this tension that was building to a head—and so she interrupted him before he could say what he must not.

‘I actually think I could paint that,’ she said stepping back from the painting and nodding. ‘If you got me some red paint I could do another one for you…’ She turned and saw his rigid lips and kissed them. ‘I’m playing,’ she said. ‘Well, sort of.’ Because she was quite sure that she could paint it—after all it was just a broken red line! ‘I love your home. It is very…’ she tried to think of a word to use ‘…very Mikael.’

‘So, what do you want to do?’ he asked, because he didn’t like her examining his things.

‘I already told you—I want to learn to drive,’ she said.

‘Layla, it’s not something you learn in a few days,’ he explained. ‘Wouldn’t you prefer to be doing other things?’

She looked at his delicious mouth and then back to his eyes.

‘Teach me to screw, instead.’

Deliberately he did not blink. Mikael knew she had picked up that word from him, and really he would prefer that she didn’t return to Ishla with that in her vocabulary.

‘That’s not a great choice of word, Layla.’

‘You said it the other night—you said that she didn’t want to lose a good—’

‘Lover,’ he said, but that didn’t work—because he had never been in love until now, and what was the point of falling in love when any day now she’d be gone?

‘I want to come again,’ Layla said.

‘That’s better.’

‘I want you to come too. I want to see.’

Still he did not blink, but Mikael chose the safer option. ‘I’ll teach you to drive.’

He watched the smile play on her lips as they headed back out to his car. ‘You think you won there, don’t you?’

‘I think I did.’

He turned the car around and went through a few basics with her, but she just kept turning his radio on. ‘Listen to me, Layla’ he said, turning the music off for the third time. ‘If I say brake then you are to brake—there is to be no arguing.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m in charge here…’ Mikael warned, but he saw the press of her lips and the dark mood that had been building since last night inched towards breaking point. Was she serious about anything? he wondered, though he had enough insight to know he wasn’t talking about driving.

A mini-tornado with black hair and eyes had spun into his life and changed every part of it, and she didn’t even seem aware of the damage she would leave behind.

‘Layla!’ he warned as her fingers moved towards the stereo, and the anger in his voice was more than was merited, perhaps, but it came from within.

‘Can I just remind you that I am a princess…?’

He climbed out of the car with his mounting temper and walked back to his sprawling home. She rushed after him.

‘Don’t walk away from me,’ Layla ordered. ‘Mikael. You do not walk away from me.’

She soon changed her mind when he turned and she saw the look in his eyes as he strode back towards her.

‘Okay, you can go now,’ she said, but he did not stop walking till he was right in her face.

‘Never,’ Mikael said, ‘pull the princess rank on me.’

‘But I am one.’

‘Don’t we all know it?’

‘You’re cross with me.’

‘You—’ Mikael was on the edge of losing his temper; he never did—nothing goaded him, he was the goader ‘—are the limit. Have the keys.’ He tossed them at her. ‘Better yet, I’ll take you back to the hotel and leave you there. Better still, I’ll take you back to the city and leave you on the street. I’m done.’

He bent down to pick up the keys from the ground and headed back to the car. It was better that he was away from her; she’d have his heart otherwise.

‘Come on.’

‘Where?’

‘I just told you.’

‘You can’t leave me in the city.’

‘I am,’ he said.

‘Everyone is looking for me.’

‘You’ll be very easy to find,’ he said, and opened the door for her. ‘In.’

‘No.’

‘In.’

‘No.’

‘Fine,’ he said, ‘then you get to stay at the house. I’m off to the hotel…’

He started the engine and she ran in front of the car.

He sat with the engine idling, in air-conditioned comfort, as Layla stood in the hot Australian sun, and he was a fool to even pretend that he did not love her.

Life, Mikael thought as she came round to his window, had been so much more straightforward without her in it.

She tapped on the window and waited as it slid down.

‘Please don’t go.’ she pleaded, but he said nothing. ‘I was playing and I should have listened.’ Still Mikael stared ahead. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.

‘For…?’

‘Not listening when you were trying to teach me.’

He went to slide up the window.

‘For being a princess.’

‘You can be a princess, Layla, just not when it’s the two of us. Do you get it?’

‘I think so.’

Even he was having trouble defining it. ‘When I say enough, or stop, or there is danger, you must listen to me without question.’

‘You are just like my brother and father—’

‘Please,’ Mikael dismissed. ‘Do you know, I’m actually starting to lean to their side? If they’ve had to put up with your dramas for the last twenty-four years I’m full of admiration, in fact, that they got you to adulthood alive.’

‘We only have a couple of days and you spoil them by being mean to me,’ she said.

‘You forgot to stamp your foot.’ He saw her tense, frustrated face as still she did not get her way. ‘It won’t work with me, Layla.’

‘It worked before.’

‘It won’t work in the important things. Now, do you want to learn to drive?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who’s in charge when you’re a learner driver in my car?’

‘You are.’

She climbed in, and this time Layla did listen.

Half an hour later they bunny-hopped back into his long drive…

‘More to the left,’ he said, his hand hovering over the handbrake, and wondered if he should take the wheel. But she righted the car—though a fraction too late.

‘What was that noise?’ Layla asked.

‘My paintwork.’

‘Oh.’ She pulled to a halt, actually quite smoothly. ‘How did I do?’

‘Very well,’ Mikael said, wondering why he wasn’t jumping out of his car to inspect the damage; instead he leant his head back on the headrest and gave up fighting it.

Pointless and hopeless, perhaps, but in love was where he was.

She was the important thing.

Which meant that something had to be discussed.

And this time when he raised it he wouldn’t let Layla interrupt him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THEY UNPACKED HER case and Layla put on her new bikini. They had a swim at the beach until, salty and dusty with sand, they returned home hungry.

Layla was determined to make lunch herself.

Hair tied up, her new bikini damp, she was frying a practice prawn in butter with Mikael behind her, telling her to turn it when it went pink.

‘It looks beautiful,’ she said. ‘I can’t wait to tell my father about them.’

‘Do you want to go back to Ishla?’ Mikael asked the question he had tried to before, when Layla had been looking at his painting.

‘Of course I do.’

She didn’t even hesitate in her response, but Mikael persisted, knowing her answer had been automatic.

‘Are you sure that you do?’ He saw her face turn just a little and her lovely smooth brow was marred by a frown.

Until this morning she had not considered that she might have to say goodbye to people she cared about. Until now it had never entered her head that she might not want to go back to Ishla.

That she had a choice.

‘Of course I am sure,’ Layla said, though her voice suddenly said otherwise. ‘I love my family.’

‘I know that you do.’

‘It would kill my father if I left.’ Her voice started to rise as she pointed out the reality. ‘It would honestly kill him.’

‘Okay,’ he soothed.

‘I don’t like that question,’ she said. ‘I don’t like how it makes me feel inside. Please don’t ask me things like that again.’

‘I won’t.’ Mikael turned off the gas and, still behind her, wrapped his arms around her and held her till she relaxed back into him. But he could feel that her heart was racing—as, he guessed, was her mind.

‘Go,’ she said, because his words had unsettled her. ‘Go and have your shower. I want to make lunch by myself.’

Mikael left her to it, mentally kicking himself and wondering if he could have handled that any better.

What the hell had he been thinking?

Suppose she’d said no, that she didn’t want to go back?

What then?

Had he been asking her to be his wife?

* * *

Layla was determined to make a beautiful lunch—and she would if the butter knife she was trying to cut a tomato with didn’t flatten it so.

And the onion had made her cry.

Or was she just crying?

Damn you, Mikael, for asking me that, she thought. Damn you for making me stand here and cry and not want to go home to the land and the people I love.

‘Mikael!’ She was suddenly angry and walked through to the bedroom. She could hear the shower was on but had no qualms about walking in. After all, he had bathed her a few times.

What Layla saw, though, had her heart in her throat—and suddenly she wasn’t angry any more.

He looked up and saw the shock on her face as his eyes lifted from where he had been concentrating and he saw her standing there, watching him.

Then he watched her as the shock changed to a delicious smile and she stepped into the shower with him.

‘Continue,’ she said.

Mikael wasn’t sure that he could—until her mouth started working his chest.

‘Is this why you have so many showers…?’ she asked, and he gave a half laugh. ‘I thought you were just very clean!’

She loved the tension in him, loved the feel of his wet skin, and she slipped out of her bikini and then boldly dropped to her knees and kissed up his legs…slow kisses that changed to frantic, because she wanted so badly to touch and to taste what she must not.

He almost pulled her up by her hair, but he wanted her to see this, and wanted her pleasure too. He took her hand and placed it over his, on the outside, so that she did not touch, but she felt the motion and the building tension.

‘Oh…’ It was the nicest thing she had ever felt.

He bent his knees a little and rubbed himself over her and Layla watched in fascination, till her thighs were shaking.

‘Mikael…’ Every stroke brought her closer, and then she watched as their hands stilled but his shaft didn’t, and the moan that came from him as he shot over her was addictive, for she wanted to hear it again and again. It was that and the shots of silver that spilled over her that almost brought Layla to her knees with her own lovely orgasm.

‘What’s that noise?’ Layla gasped, at the sound of bleeping, but she was talking to thin air as Mikael had suddenly bolted from the shower. ‘What is happening?’ she asked, following him out. ‘Mikael, what is that smell?’

Layla found out what a fire extinguisher was as a naked Mikael tackled the wok that she had left unattended.

‘You’re supposed to turn the gas off,’ he said as he put the small fire out.

‘You shouldn’t have turned me on.’

She had an answer for everything, and Mikael stood back breathless and looked at the smoke on his gleaming walls. All he could think was that he was going to miss this.

‘I’ll make lunch,’ he said. ‘First, though, I’m going to get dressed…’

‘Why?’ she asked, wrapping her arms around him. ‘I like us like this.’

So too did Mikael.

‘Do you want to watch some pawn while we eat?’

He gestured to the chessboard and Layla nodded.

‘You didn’t laugh at my joke,’ he said.

‘I don’t joke about chess,’ she said.

But he realised she probably had not understood.

They had a very quick and less ambitious lunch, which consisted of tomato sandwiches with loads of black pepper, and then, naked, she took two chess pieces, shook them behind her back and held out her hands.

Mikael peeled open the fingers on her right hand. He was black. There was a thrill of anticipation for Layla as he set the board up, and she lay on her stomach, propped up on her elbows. She had had the same flurry of nerves in her stomach when she had first played with a stranger online.

A better flurry, in fact!

‘I don’t want any favours,’ she warned.

‘You won’t get them from me.’

Layla was white, within three moves it was Mikael attacking and Layla on the defence.

He watched as she removed his knight and then he swooped.

‘Mchfesa,’ she said.

Mikael could guess what that meant.

He set up again, and she opened as she had before, but again it was to no avail.

‘I am good at this!’ she said.

‘You are.’ Mikael smiled. ‘But I’m better.’ He wasn’t pulling rank. ‘I’ve played a lot.’ And, as naturally as breathing, he told her a bit about his time on the streets and how chess had saved his sanity.

He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t get it from Layla.

‘I have played a lot too,’ she said. ‘I would be out of my mind otherwise. Before I had my students, chess was the best company I had.’

Mikael looked up. ‘Have you ever heard the saying, “at the end of the day the pawn and the king go back in the same box”?’

‘No.’

She thought about it for a moment too long.

‘Checkmate.’ He smiled. ‘You are too easily distracted. You need focus.’

‘I will beat you one day,’ she warned, and then he saw her jaw clamp down, because no matter how they hid from the world and got lost in their own they were constantly reminded that the clock was counting down on them.

But instead of dwelling on that Layla focused on the game. She opened differently and awaited his response.

‘I’m thirsty, Mikael.’

‘Then get a drink.’

She didn’t. She moved into attack again and again, and suddenly they were game on.

‘I’m very thirsty, Mikael.’

‘Good,’ he said, refusing to allow her to distract him. ‘Shall I get up and run a tap?’

She shot him a look and stood up. Usually nothing distracted Mikael, yet as she returned and repositioned herself a very ripe nipple might have done. Had he had his time again he would not have made the move that he did. Not that his face told her that, and he hoped she wouldn’t see the opening he had given her, but as he watched her fork him with her knight he realised she had.

‘Your phone is ringing,’ Layla pointed out as she sacrificed her queen.

‘So?’

He let it go to voicemail as they played on, and soon her pawn had crossed the board and Layla had reclaimed her queen.

She smiled at him, but it wasn’t returned for his phone was ringing again.

‘What the hell does Demyan want?’ Mikael’s voice was irritated.

‘How do you know it is Demyan?’ she asked as he stood.

‘He has his own ringtone.’

‘That’s sweet!’ she said, and watched as he took the call.

The vague irritation in his expression disappeared and his face snapped to impassivity. She had a growing sense of unease as Mikael spoke in length to Demyan in Russian.

‘What did he want?’ she asked when he ended the call, and when he did not answer her straight away she knew that something was wrong. ‘Is it the baby?’

‘The baby’s fine,’ Mikael said.

But just as she relaxed he took her hands, and she knew she was going to hear bad news.

‘Layla, Demyan and Alina were so curious about you that they looked you up. Your disappearance has just hit the press. The police are looking for you…’

‘No…’ she whimpered. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘They won’t find me here.’

‘Yes, Layla, they will,’ he said. ‘The staff at the hotel will recognise you, and the booking was under my name. This is serious now.’

He let go of her hands, turned on the television and found the news.

There she was: black eyes, black hair, and a face that was unforgettable.

The police could be there in a matter of moments.

‘We need to get you back.’

When she didn’t respond he elaborated.

‘Layla, it will be better for you if you return under your own steam than have the police find you.’

‘One more night,’ Layla begged. ‘Mikael, please, I just want one more night.’

She was not manipulating him now; instead she was pleading.

‘Just one more night and then I promise that I will go back happy. I will never interrupt your life again, Mikael, if you will please just give me one more night.’

‘One more night…’ he said. ‘We’ll take out my yacht…’

He was already loading a cool bag with supplies: champagne, fine food—anything he could think of to give Layla the very best final night.

‘Go and get dressed and sort out the clothes that you’ll return to your family in.’

‘Mikael?’ She frowned. ‘I’ll get changed here, tomorrow, after our night.’

‘We won’t be coming back here, Layla. If we’re going to leave then it has to be now.’

It was the most horrible thing she had ever heard, and she simply did not now how to respond.

‘Layla?’ He was very calm; he could see how much she was struggling. ‘Come on,’ he said, deciding to find clothes for her. Just now it had nothing to do with her being a princess that she could not dress herself.

She was simply trying not to break down.

They were heading to his car in a matter of moments.

‘Mikael…?’ She said as he opened the passenger door for her.

‘You’re not driving.’

‘No, of course not.’ She was suddenly serious. ‘Tonight, if I tell you to make love to me, if I plead with you that I don’t care, please…’

‘You’ll be fine, Layla.’

She would be—he knew that.

But only for as long as she was in his care.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

IT FELT LIKE the last night on earth.

Mikael sailed the yacht till it was far enough from his home that he was satisfied they would not easily be found, and then dropped anchor in a pretty cove.

He looked over to where she stood, leaning on the rail and looking out to the view, and he wondered how he could possibly give her the night of her dreams while knowing that tomorrow she’d be gone.

She could feel his eyes on her as she looked out at the view, at the gorgeous red sky. The next sunset she saw would no doubt be on her way back to Ishla.

Why had Zahid let her father know?

Tears stung her eyes because she had not wanted to hurt her father.

She remembered her threats to Zahid and Trinity that she would go to an embassy—she would never have done that, though. All she had wanted was a week.

‘It is beautiful,’ she said as Mikael came and joined her. But not even a sunset could soothe the hurt. Instead it made her want to cry. ‘Why did they have to tell my father? Why did the police have to get involved?’

‘I would guess they were very worried last night, when I didn’t text and say that you were okay until so late.’

‘I should have called and let you know that I was safe,’ Layla admitted. ‘It truly never entered my head. If I had had a phone there were a few times I would have liked to call you to tell you what was happening, but I don’t have one.’

‘I know,’ he said, and put his arm around her shoulders. He looked out to the night and wished he could take away their row.

It had been no one’s fault—she didn’t know about public phones and, after all, he had told her not to ring him unless it was an emergency.

For Mikael, not wanting his day to be interrupted by her felt like a very long time ago.

‘You were right to text Zahid, though,’ she said. ‘I was thinking about it after you left me alone last night. I believe that had you not texted him the first night to say that I was safe then my father would have been informed by the morning. At least we had some time.’

‘You didn’t get a week,’ Mikael said, ‘but have you had a nice few days?’

‘They have been wonderful,’ she said. ‘You have been wonderful to me.’

Mikael made her favourite dinner—without setting the kitchen on fire—and she sat on the bench and watched him.

‘Sick of prawns yet?’ he asked.

‘Never.’

They took their dinner up on deck and washed it down with champagne, and Layla shivered a bit when he asked her what would happen when she went back to Ishla.

‘I know you said there would be trouble for you, but can I ask what sort?’

‘I expect that my father will ban my computer,’ Layla said, ‘and I will have to apologise to Trinity and Zahid, and perhaps I will not be allowed to teach…’ She ran a hand through her hair and thought of the smiling faces of her students and how much they would miss her. ‘I was selfish, I suppose. They will miss out because of me…’

‘It might not be for long,’ Mikael offered, but she shook her head.

‘My father has already told me that my future husband might find it offensive if I work…I expect that decision will be made for him.’ She told Mikael the truth then. ‘My father will bring my wedding forward, I expect. I have been trying to avoid it, but he will say I have given him no choice.’

‘Layla…’

‘Please don’t ask that question again.’

He let out a tense breath in exasperation, but she had not finished speaking yet.

‘I am so loved and so happy at home,’ she said. ‘I wanted adventure—just one big adventure—and I have had that, I just forgot the first rule of chess.’

‘Tell me.’

‘To look to more than the next move,’ she said. ‘I planned and researched escaping, being here, and all the things I wanted to do, but I forgot to consider the leaving part. I never thought it would hurt—it never even entered my head that I might prefer to live life here.’ As Mikael went to speak she shook her head. ‘I would never do that to my father, to my country, to my people.’

‘Even if you won’t be happy?’

‘Of course I will be happy. I will just miss things here,’ she said, and tried to hold back on just how much she would miss Mikael. It would not be fair to either of them.

She had not lied to him that first day. Revealing her thoughts always got her into trouble, and possibly never more so than now. It was imperative that she did not break down and tell him just how she was feeling.

‘I wanted tonight to be wonderful,’ she said, ‘but all I feel like doing is crying.’

‘Come here,’ Mikael said and led her to the day bed where they lay for a lovely while.

‘Do you have any regrets?’ Mikael asked and she shook her head.

‘You?’

‘None,’ Mikael said and then thought for a moment. ‘I wish that I’d got you that joint.’

‘I don’t need it now,’ Layla said because lying here next to Mikael with the stars shining so brightly and the feel of being in his arms she had her high. It was a gorgeous navy sky, so dark except for the stars and just the tiniest sliver of moon.

‘That’s the first thing I thought of when I saw you,’ Mikael said, gazing up at the moon and remembering walking into his office and seeing her standing there in her silver dress. ‘Make a wish on the new moon,’ he said.