The Royal Affair

by Barrett, Gail

  “Safe?” Surprised, she looked up. “From what?”

  “Singh.”

  Singh. The bleakness in Deven’s voice made her blood chill. She searched his face, saw the truth in his tortured eyes. And suddenly, everything she’d believed about the way he’d left her was thrown in doubt. She flashed back to the night she’d escaped Singh’s palace, when Deven had warned her about probing the past. He’d sounded just as lonely, just as despairing then….

  “What did Singh do?”

  “He was at my apartment when I got home that night. He’d murdered my mother.”

  Shock rippled through her. Singh had murdered his mother—and Deven had seen it? She pressed her fingers to her lips. “Oh, Deven. I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t even imagine how horrific that must have been. “But…why?”

  He exhaled. “She was his mistress when she was young—but not by choice. Her family had arranged their marriage, not knowing he had a wife. By the time she figured out he was a bigamist, it was too late.”

  Maya could believe it. She’d seen men do worse.

  “She tried to leave him, but he wouldn’t let her go. So she escaped, went on the run.” His gaze met hers. “That’s how I grew up, always on the run with her, frequently changing my name. She feared for her life, knew he’d kill her if he ever caught up. And she was right. He didn’t give up, even after all that time. That night…I got home too late. I couldn’t save her.”

  The horror of it engulfed her. Of course he would blame himself. While he’d been making love to her, his mother had lost her life.

  “What did you do?” she whispered.

  “I tried to fight him, but he was too strong.” His hand went to the long scar crossing his jaw. “I managed to escape, but I knew he’d come after me—and you, to get to me. I took her wedding necklace, her pote. Not Singh’s—she’d pawned that one long ago—but the one that had been handed down through her father’s family.” His eyes turned bleak. “The one I’d intended to give to you. I sold it.”

  The pain in his voice brought a terrible ache to her throat. So he really had cared. He hadn’t lied.

  His eyes turned distant, lost in the past. “I used the money to buy a new identity. I got a British passport, flew out the same day. When I got to England, I joined the army and went to Iraq. Eventually I got recruited into the Special Forces, the Special Reconnaissance Regiment. And from there to Magnum, the company I work for now.”

  He made it sound simple, but she could only imagine how hard, how lonely that must have been. “But why would Singh have followed you? You weren’t to blame for what your mother did.”

  “I had something he wanted. It’s complicated…dangerous. I can’t tell you more than that. But after the way he’d pursued my mother, I knew he wouldn’t give up. He’d go after anyone I knew to get me. I wanted to tell you, to say goodbye, but I couldn’t risk it. If anything had happened to you…Believe me, Maya, if there had been any other way…”

  She pulled her gaze to the darkness beyond the ledge, her mind spinning with his revelation, still grappling to absorb it all. But she believed him. Except for the night that he’d left her, she’d known him to be an honorable man. Even now he’d protected her, saving her at every turn. And she couldn’t doubt that pain in his voice.

  He moved closer, his eyes filled with remorse. “It damned near killed me to leave you,” he admitted. “And I thought about you all the time. But I couldn’t tell you the truth. And I’d hoped…I’d hoped you’d move on, that you’d find someone else, someone who deserved you. Someone better than me.”

  Her heart wobbled hard. She read the truth of his words in his eyes. This strong, courageous man had exiled himself to keep her safe. And he didn’t believe he deserved her now.

  “I’m not asking for forgiveness,” he continued, his voice somber. “I’d do the same again. And you’re right to despise me. I don’t expect that to change. But for God’s sake, Maya, don’t ever think I didn’t want you.”

  Her eyes misted with tears. A huge lump lodged in her throat. She blinked quickly, battling back the swarm of emotions, trying not to overreact. This didn’t erase the past. It didn’t even change the future. There was still too much he hadn’t explained—such as what he’d taken from Singh. But it did alter her perspective, forcing her to rethink the conclusions she’d formed.

  “Thank you for telling me,” she whispered. She raised her trembling hand, traced the silvery scar marring his face. “And I don’t despise you.”

  His eyes glittered, and he caught her wrist. “You should. I’m not a good man, Maya. There are things about me you still don’t know.”

  “I know enough.”

  Their eyes stayed locked. Emotions arced between them—understanding, sorrow for all they’d lost. And something deeper, something far more elemental.

  He turned his head, his eyes still riveting hers, and brushed her wrist with his lips. Her pulse ran amok. Her belly fluttered with nerves.

  He dropped her wrist and shifted closer, drawing her into his arms. His big, rough hands cupped her face. His long legs bracketed hers. Electrified by his nearness, she forgot to breathe.

  And then he lowered his head and kissed her—softly, tenderly, as if expressing his regrets.

  Buffeted by sensations, she melted against him. She savored the sensual heat of his mouth, inhaled the intriguing scent of his skin. He angled her chin, parted her lips with his tongue, igniting a tempest of need in her blood.

  This was the man she’d lost, the man she’d loved. The man who was better than he’d admit.

  He ended the kiss, but didn’t move. His thumb stroked her throat. His uneven breath battled with hers.

  And raw need blazed in his eyes.

  “Maya, walk away,” he rasped.

  She trembled, knowing she should do it. The past was gone. They had no future together. This was a line they shouldn’t cross.

  But this was a night of truth, a night without pretense. She’d bared her soul, revealed her vulnerability and pain. And Deven had allowed her a glimpse of the darkness he had inside.

  He lowered his hands to her hips and tugged her close. And even through the blanket, she could feel his arousal prodding the apex of her thighs.

  No lies. No deceptions. Just brutal honesty.

  He wanted her, needed her.

  She didn’t have it in her to refuse.

  “Make love to me, Deven.”

  His fingers flexed on her hips. The muscles of his whiskered throat worked. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” She was sure. This man had always felt right.

  He closed his eyes, shuddered hard, as if battling for self-control. And then, like a volcano erupting, he jerked her against him, taking her lips in a hard, plundering kiss that wiped out every thought.

  His steel-hard body pressed against hers. His powerful shoulders rippled and bunched. He ravaged her mouth with his tongue, sparking a riot of delirious sensations, wrenching a moan from her throat.

  And she kissed him back with reckless abandon. She stroked his face, his shoulders, his back. She savored his warmth and strength, wanting him everywhere, giving vent to the hunger she had smothered for years.

  But he stopped, tore his mouth from hers, and she shuddered at the sensual loss. He stripped the blanket from her shoulders, strode over and spread it out beside the fire. Then he turned to face her again.

  She gazed at him in the flickering firelight, at his tall, muscled body tightened with hunger, his eyes glittering in his dangerous face. His shirt hung open, revealing his sculpted chest and the hard, flat line of his waist. She swallowed with effort, desperate to touch his heated skin, to feel those muscles flex under her palms.

  He reached out his hand, and she went to him. He pulled her tightly against him, setting off an explosion of need in her blood. He drew his hands up her naked thighs, cupped her bare bottom beneath her shirt, sending thrills chasing over her skin. Then he tugged her even closer, fitting her to his grow
ing arousal, and fused his mouth to hers. It was like coming home, a heady sensation she couldn’t resist—feeling cherished, wanted, desired. And every part of her rejoiced.

  She sank deeper into the kiss, her world spinning. His hands continued their erotic assault. Her body moistened, craving him with an urgency she couldn’t contain. A whimper escaped her throat.

  He moved his mouth to her jaw, over the sensitive skin of her neck. She dropped her head back to grant him access, the feverish jolts scorching her skin.

  “I need to see you,” he muttered against her throat. “Take off the shirt.”

  She fumbled with the buttons, but couldn’t undo them. She gave up, tore it open. Deven leaned back to give her space, and the fabric slid down her arms.

  His ravenous eyes tracked the movement. His Adam’s apple dipped in his throat. And then his gaze devoured her, making a hot, leisurely slide over every inch of her naked skin. Her legs weakened with need.

  A slight breeze puckered her nipples, drawing goose bumps on her skin. She shivered, started to cross her arms, but he grabbed them and held them apart. His gaze made another deliberate trek over her body, and then his hot mouth went to her breast.

  She gasped at the fierce zap of pleasure. Tremors buffeted her in waves. She couldn’t think, could only reel from the erotic sensations, never wanting them to end.

  But an eternity later he stopped and lowered her to the blanket. He stripped off his own clothes and tossed them aside. Her breath caught at the sight of him. He was glorious, riveting, all roped muscles and rigid flesh. The glimmering firelight gilded his skin.

  He knelt beside her, urging her back against the blanket, and covered her body with his. Her breath came too fast. The feel of his hard, male body ignited hers.

  He kissed her again, his mouth turning urgent. His hands roamed her belly, her breasts. A delicious ache drove out every thought, and she gave herself up to the bliss.

  But instead of hurrying to completion, he slowed. He ran his mouth down her throat, her breasts, her thighs, worshipping her body, as if consumed by the moment. The exquisite torture drove her out of her mind.

  This was what she’d remembered. The fury of the sensual onslaught. The torment of his languid retreat. The way he’d teased her, excited her with ruthless mastery, building the pleasure until she’d wanted to scream.

  She plunged her hands in his short, silky hair, thrilling to the erotic scrape of his jaw. His hands stroked everywhere except where she needed him most, and her frustration built.

  When she tugged on his shoulders, he made a low, sexy laugh, then moved back up. For an eternity he stayed poised above her, his face tense with hunger, his eyes hot with desire. And the sheer beauty of the moment struck her, this sharing of body and hearts.

  His gaze dipped, and he fingered the borrowed necklace. He closed his eyes, as if unable to bear the sight, then looked at her with such naked yearning that a deep ache seized her chest. And waves of emotions flooded through her. Tenderness. Longing.

  Love.

  “Maya,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse.

  And then he entered her, thick and full and hard, and the pleasure came in deep, rolling waves. She was lost in the ecstasy, unable to think, to stop. The feelings crested, splintered inside her.

  “Maya,” he cried again. And then he kissed her, swallowing her frantic whimpers, and drove them over the edge.

  He shuddered against her mouth, continued the erotic assault. Her body soared out of control. And then the world stopped twirling and the bliss began to ebb.

  Long moments later, he withdrew, then eased to the side, pulling her with him. With one arm firmly around her, he pulled the blanket over them both and closed his eyes.

  She sighed, nestled her cheek in the hollow of his shoulder, felt the strong, vibrant beat of his heart. Aftermaths of pleasure still skidded through her veins.

  For an eternity, she snuggled against him. The soft glow of the fire, the warmth of his muscled arms cocooned her, sheltering her from the darkness, driving out thoughts of the danger ahead. But as the rapture slowly subsided, reality crept back.

  This interlude had changed nothing.

  She exhaled and forced herself to face facts. She didn’t regret what they’d done. They’d shared their bodies, fulfilled a basic human need, forged a memory that would always endure.

  And maybe they’d both healed a bit from the painful past.

  But nothing had really changed between them. There was still much about him she didn’t know, things he refused to confide.

  Things somehow wrapped up with Singh and her medallion.

  She raised her head and gazed at Deven’s handsome face. His stubbled cheeks were relaxed in sleep, the lines on his forehead less pronounced. She traced the long scar bolting across his cheek, admired the noble line of his nose.

  No matter what Deven believed, he was a decent man. She had no doubts about that. But he had a darkness inside him now, a terrible secret he wouldn’t reveal.

  And somehow, before this journey was over, she would discover what it was.

  But she had to be careful. She had a real weakness for this man; he affected her as no one else ever had. She had to protect herself, not repeat her mistakes. She’d barely recovered before.

  And she definitely shouldn’t let herself fall in love with him again.

  But as she closed her eyes, the wonderful sensations he’d evoked still pulsing in her veins, she knew that she’d never stopped.

  Chapter 9

  Making love to Maya ranked right up there as one of the dumbest things he’d ever done.

  Deven headed back down the trail he’d discovered, disgusted by his lack of control. He’d had no right to touch her. He’d succumbed in a moment of weakness, given in to the rampaging need.

  And the hot, sultry feel of her…He paused and closed his eyes at the onslaught of memories—her ripe, naked breasts; her satin hair pooling over his skin; her erotic, throaty cries.

  He opened his eyes, continued hiking down the path. She’d felt right, absolutely perfect in his arms, as if she belonged there. As if she were his—just as she had been twelve years ago when she’d given her virginity to him.

  And even knowing it was wrong, he craved her again. He wanted to go to her, strip the clothes from her glorious body and sheath himself in her warmth. To plunge into her again and again until her eyes grew glazed and her body shuddered with his.

  He exhaled, his blood running heavy and thick, and firmly suppressed the unruly need. He’d screwed up, indulged where he’d had no business. And now he had to apologize—and make sure it didn’t happen again, for her own good.

  Maya emerged from the cave as he approached. And before he could stop it, his gaze helplessly roamed every inch of her—her curving hips, her graceful arms, the fullness of her breasts. She’d braided her hair, emphasizing the elegant cast of her cheekbones and those bewitching, dark-lashed eyes. She was a sensual fantasy, all soft, satin skin and tempting heat.

  A fantasy that could never be his. Because when she learned the entire truth about him…

  He stopped near her, not sure what to say. “Maya, listen. Last night, I—”

  “Deven, don’t.” She held up her hand to ward him off. “Please. Let’s not talk about it, all right?”

  Knocked off stride, he frowned. “You want to pretend it didn’t happen?”

  “No, of course not.” Her face turned pink. “Last night was…wonderful, amazing.”

  Amazing was right. Blood rushed to his loins at the thought.

  “But let’s not start complicating things, all right? Let’s not apologize. Just…let it go.”

  “No apologies.” His scowl deepening, he planted his hands on his hips. He knew he should feel relieved. She was keeping the encounter casual, offering him the perfect way out.

  But something didn’t ring true here. He didn’t believe her nonchalance. He studied the determined line of her mouth, the way her gaze didn’t quite meet his. />
  And awareness struck him with the force of a bullet. She was acting out of self-defense. She expected him to reject her. And why shouldn’t she? After the last time they’d made love, he’d walked away.

  He gripped the back of his neck, sick with self-disgust. He felt like the worst kind of heel.

  But she’d pegged him right. He was backing away. They had no future together, and he couldn’t touch her again.

  And maybe he should allow her the pretense of indifference, let her cling to her ravaged pride. It might be kinder that way. But damned if he could let her think he didn’t care.

  He stepped close, so close she had to lift her chin to meet his eyes. “But just so you know,” he said, unable to hide the desire roughening his voice, “I wish I could give you more. You deserve more.” She deserved marriage, children…But he could never marry her. And he couldn’t tell her why. She wouldn’t trust him if she knew.

  And he couldn’t bear her disgust.

  “I don’t want anything else,” she said, the false bravado in her voice making his chest ache. “So let’s just forget it.”

  He shook his head, his eyes still holding hers. “I’ll remember last night until the day I die.”

  She flushed again, deeper this time, and his own pulse surged in response. He fisted his hands, wrestling with the urge to yank her into his arms and show her with excruciating thoroughness every erotic detail etched in his mind.

  But a deep whop, whop, whop rose in the distance, and he dragged his gaze away. He scanned the pine trees towering above them, searched the patches of early-dawn sky.

  “A helicopter,” she said, fear creeping into her voice.

  “Yeah.” A Huey. The cadence of the rotors gave it away. “Get into the cave.”

  He strode to the fire ring, made sure no lingering smoke would give them away, then followed her inside. He stopped just past the entrance and peered out.

  Maya hovered at his elbow. The noise of the rotors grew. “Do you think they can see us?”

  “No, the trees are too thick. I doubt they’ll even spot the cave.”