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Brandishing a Crown

Page 9

by Rita Herron


  “Stefan, please,” she whispered.

  Her throaty voice washed over him, igniting the fire in his body. “Please, what? Please kiss you…”

  His heart fluttered like a schoolboy’s as her lips puckered beneath his fingers.

  Then she glanced at the signet ring he wore, the one emboldened with an etching of the crown, and started to pull away. “Please let me get back to work.”

  He shook his head. “No, I could not live with myself if such a lovely, intelligent, sexy woman like you lost her life because of me.”

  She shook her head in denial. “You don’t need to compliment me, Stefan.”

  He tilted her chin up with his thumb, forcing her to see the raw need in his own eyes. He wanted her to feel the same intense heat that consumed him.

  He wanted her to want him the way he wanted her.

  So he made good on his promise. He lowered his head, closed his mouth over hers, and kissed her with every ounce of his being.

  A proper kiss. Only there was nothing proper about it at all.

  Chapter Nine

  Jane’s pulse clamored as Stefan closed his lips over hers. His lips felt soft and gentle yet at the same time, hard and demanding, as if he expected her to kiss him back.

  And how could she possibly resist? His concern for her safety touched her deeply. He wasn’t just a handsome, charismatic leader. He was intelligent, caring, a man who’d fought for his country in the military, a man who had great pride and character.

  A man who said he couldn’t live with himself if she died.

  A man with muscles that were rippling beneath her body as she pressed her chest against his. A man who could have any woman in the world he wanted, but for some reason she couldn’t fathom, he seemed to want her.

  At least for the moment.

  And this moment was all that mattered.

  They had been shot at earlier, and both of them could have been killed. She needed this. Needed to feel his arms around her, his lips on hers, his body hot and heavy against her own.

  He deepened the kiss, probing her lips apart with his tongue and teasing the warm cavern of her mouth with erotic tongue lashes. She met him thrust for thrust, sigh for sigh, groan for groan.

  A throaty moan of pleasure and need ripped from him, and he cupped her face with his hands, sinking deeper into the kiss, so deeply that she thought he might swallow her.

  As if he was branding her as his.

  The feeling overwhelmed her, frightened her, made her feel like…giving herself to him completely.

  His hands trailed down her shoulders, to her waist, then he cupped her bottom and pulled her to him. Warmth spread through her, stark and needy, and she moaned as she felt his thick erection pulsing against her thigh.

  Dear heavens. He did want her.

  Her legs buckled slightly, and he caught her, trailing kisses down her throat and neck, loving her with his tongue and nibbling at the sensitive spot behind her ear. She clung to his shoulders, heaving for a breath and trying to control her heartbeat, which felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest.

  His mouth traced a path downward, and he made soft suckling sounds as he kissed the swell of her breasts. One hand pushed her T-shirt up, and she ran her fingers through his hair, clawing at him wildly.

  Passion exploded between them as he placed his lips on her breasts, teasing at the lace of her bra and catching the top with his teeth to drag it downward, exposing one ripe nipple.

  She arched against him, practically purring and silently begging him to take that nipple between his lips. He obeyed as if he understood her needs, as if he craved her body as much as she craved his.

  Pure pleasure coursed through her as his mouth consumed her, and she pushed at his jacket, wanting his clothes off, her clothes off, to be totally naked with him.

  He tossed his jacket to the chair, then lifted her shirt over her head, exposing her lace-clad breasts. A moment of insecurity assaulted her, and she started to cover herself, but he grabbed her hands and pushed them down beside her, holding them while he looked his fill.

  “You are exquisite, Jane Cameron,” he said thickly.

  “More beautiful than I have imagined.”

  Surprise flared inside her. “You imagined me like this?”

  “From the very first moment I saw you.” A sultry smile tilted his full lips, making him look impossibly sexy and rakish. He began to unbutton his own shirt. “Do not tell me that you have not pictured us together—” he gestured toward their harried state of undress “—like this.” He lowered his head and leaned into her ear. “Naked. Together. Making love.”

  Jane’s breath caught. Never had a man made love to her with his eyes. Touched her with his mouth as if he could lap her up like sweet cream.

  Spoken to her in such a bold sexy way.

  Made her want to strip and throw him down and have her way with him.

  And let him do anything he wanted with her.

  The thought scared the bejeezus out of her.

  She took a step backward, but he yanked her up against him. “Do not run, Jane. I know you feel the heat between us just as I do.”

  She did feel it. And she wanted him. Even if just for the night.

  Succumbing to her desires was not something plain Jane usually did, but this time was different. This time she reached for him, brushed her fingers against his bare chest, caught the heady scent of his need in the breath he exhaled at her touch.

  Tonight she was going to do something she never did. She was going to fall into his arms and savor every second.

  SUDDENLY a knock sounded at the door. “Prince Stefan, it’s Hector. I must speak with you.”

  Stefan stilled, then pulled Jane behind him. “Come back later, Hector.”

  “But, sir, it is important. I’ve spoken with your father.”

  Stefan dropped his head forward with a low groan. “Forgive me, Jane. But my father has been ill. I must take this.”

  Behind him, Jane’s labored sigh filled the air. Tremulous, husky, laced with unspent passion and disappointment.

  All the emotions he felt.

  Then the rustling of clothes.

  Hector knocked again. “Prince—”

  “One moment, Hector.”

  He spun around, an apology on his lips as well as a promise to finish what they’d begun once he had conferred with Hector, but Jane’s expression stopped him cold.

  She looked mortified, harried, full of regret.

  Had he pushed too hard? Hadn’t Jane wanted him?

  Insecurity cut through him.

  “I am sorry, Jane.”

  Anger underscored her gaze, followed by a moment of hurt. “You are?”

  “I do not want to hurt you.” His throat was so thick he had to swallow twice. “I—”

  “Stefan!” Hector shouted.

  Blast it! He never cursed in front of a lady and he refused to now. But he had the oddest feeling he’d just made a mistake with Jane. Trouble was, he wasn’t sure how or what that mistake was.

  He still wanted her with a fever that was lighting his body up like a match to dry wood. Jane hastily pulled her T-shirt over her head and straightened her clothing, and he did the same while he contemplated how to proceed.

  Perhaps he should have asked her to wait in his bedroom.

  But Jane’s expression was closed as if the opportunity was lost forever.

  “I’ll step outside while you speak with your chief aide,” Jane said, her professional demeanor tacked into place.

  “Do not leave, Jane,” Stefan said in a low voice. “We are not finished.”

  She reached for the door, her gaze still simmering with unleashed passion and something else. A wariness that troubled him more than he dared admit.

  “Yes, we still have a case to solve,” Jane said matter-of-factly. “Now I should get back to work.”

  Her statement sounded final, as if she was declaring war against any further intimacy, but this was one war he intend
ed to win. Miss Jane Cameron was going to be his.

  With a stubborn hilt to her body, she opened the door. Hector stood facing her, but she moved past him without turning back. Stefan felt the distance between them as if that door had not only physically erected a wall between them, but as if it had emotionally as well.

  He itched to go after her, but Hector’s craggy face was drawn with worry and sorrow.

  “Hector, what is wrong? Has something happened to Father?”

  Hector sighed wearily. “He is frail, Prince. Frail and demanding to know what is happening here.”

  Stefan scrubbed his hand over his face. “I hope you did not tell him.”

  “No,” Hector said. “But we cannot keep the news from him forever. Not with Benito’s death…”

  Stefan felt the weight on his shoulders. “Yes, I know.”

  “Prince Stefan, I am so sorry to hear that Benito was killed.” Hector’s gray eyes filled with grief. “Thankfully, you were not hit.”

  Stefan made a sound of disgust. “Thanks to Miss Cameron, who shoved me inside.”

  Hector’s brows lifted at Stefan’s derisive tone. “Then we should thank Miss Cameron.”

  Anger tightened Stefan’s shoulder blades. “Yes, but I do not like other’s lives jeopardized to save mine. Poor Benito…his family.” Anguish for them made his chest ache.

  Hector poured Stefan a scotch straight up and handed it to him. “Do not blame yourself, Your Highness. Benito understood the risks and joined your team because he believed in you and your policies.”

  “Which leaves me to figure out who did not,” Stefan said, his anger mounting.

  Hector shifted, walked to the window and looked out as if he were searching for potential enemies, then turned to him with an odd expression on his face. “I understand that you received a warning not to trust anyone here,” Hector began.

  Stefan tossed down the scotch. “Yes. But we still do not know the source.”

  “Are you certain you can trust Miss Cameron?”

  Stefan set the glass down with a thud. “She has given me no reason not to trust her.”

  “But she is—how do the Americans say?—cozying up to you?”

  Stefan scoffed. “Hardly.” It was more like he was chasing her and she was running as fast as humanly possible. “Why? Have you been spying on me, Hector?”

  Hector’s face paled, guilt claiming his eyes. “I would not use the term spying, sir. But I am, as always, looking out for your best interests.”

  “I am a grown man, Hector. I can take care of my own interests.”

  “But you are vulnerable now. And this Jane woman, she does not fit into your station in life. Into your future.”

  Ire rose within Stefan. Hector rarely interfered with his personal life. “Hector, I do not wish to discuss Jane with you.”

  Hector held up an arthritic hand. “I understand, sir. And I respect your wishes, but you and your friends are in danger. And there are things you should know about Miss Cameron.”

  Stefan gritted his teeth. Did Jane have some deep dark secrets? A shaded past?

  He could not imagine.

  And he did not want to ask. Somehow doing so felt like a violation.

  But Hector was correct. If he had information that affected his friends, he had to know. He owed it to Benito not to bury his head in the sand. “What are you saying, Hector?”

  “That you should not become personally involved with her,” Hector said. “You have your country to consider, and if this compact is not signed as you planned, you must obey your father’s wishes and marry Princess Daria.”

  Daria? He could not believe his ears. “Hector, you are out of line here.”

  “I’m sorry, Prince. But I have been your father’s adviser for years, and I am only looking out for both of you now. And for Kyros.”

  “My relationship with Jane has nothing to do with Kyros.”

  Hector shrugged, but his gaze penetrated Stefan. “Unfortunately you know that any woman you choose to be with can impact your future as Kyros’ leader.”

  Hector’s words grated on Stefan, although he could not deny there was truth to the words. “Even Daria’s brother Butrus is not in favor of the marriage.”

  “That may be true. But he has his own motives.”

  Stefan poured himself another drink.

  Would Butrus have him killed to stop the marriage? He would ask Edilio to discreetly find out.

  Hector folded his hands and cleared his throat. “Are you aware that Jane Cameron does not know who her father is? That her mother was a beautiful woman who chased the limelight, chased dignitaries. That she committed suicide after her husband cheated on her?” Hector paused and removed a news article clipping from his pocket and laid it on the bar. “The gossip surrounding the affair and her mother’s death placed Miss Cameron into the media when she was a child.”

  Stefan’s heart squeezed as he studied the photo of Jane at the age of twelve. A tall, gangly, slightly awkward Jane who had not yet come into womanhood.

  Then the photograph of her mother who looked glamorous standing beside a French ambassador. A woman who obviously had stars in her eyes and loved the attention. In that photo Jane was standing off to the side, looking stricken as if her mother had purposely banned her from the camera. As if she’d been embarrassed that Jane was not all glitz and glamour.

  “Perhaps she is like her mother,” Hector said. “Perhaps she has aspirations of marrying a prince and living in the limelight herself now.”

  “No,” Stefan said, unable to fathom Jane being manipulative. If anything, Jane seemed to avoid attention to herself.

  But now he understood her hesitation regarding him in the beginning.

  “What happened to Jane after her mother’s death?” Stefan asked.

  “She went to live with an aunt and uncle. The uncle was a police officer.”

  That experience probably inspired her to become a criminologist herself.

  Hector sighed. “The point I’m making is that this police officer woman has no place beside you as you assume full leadership of Kyros. What would your people think?”

  “And Daria would be the perfect bride?” Stefan asked bitterly.

  “Yes.” Hector did not mince words. “Again, sir, I must remind you of your mission. You are scheduled to visit and tour one of the local oil drilling sites. Do you still intend to examine the facilities and hold the press conference on site to point out the environmental problems and your plans to alleviate them?”

  Stefan hated the reminder of Daria and his status. But he had been too busy dodging danger and trying to find out what happened to Amir to focus on his original plan.

  But not following through with the summit meant that he was allowing whoever was terrorizing him and his friends, whoever was trying to stop the COIN compact, to win.

  And Stefan would not allow defeat. If Amir had been kidnapped or was dead, they would carry on in honor of their friend.

  Daria’s face flashed in his mind, followed by Jane’s, and he gritted his teeth. He wanted Jane more and more each time he saw her. Her strength and vulnerability stirred his admiration just as her body and lips stirred his passion.

  As for Daria—he did not love her, but Hector was correct. Marrying her would make his father happy and save their country.

  Being the leader of a country sometimes required personal sacrifice.

  If the compact did not work, he would be forced to do his duty and take King Nazim’s daughter as his wife.

  Chapter Ten

  Jane breathed in the fresh night air as she paced the gardens outside Stefan’s suite. The scent of flowers, mesquite and grass filled the air, the brilliant colors of the Indian paintbrush, canna lilies, foxglove, poppies and coneflowers dotting the landscape as their petals danced in the evening breeze.

  Separated by gardens, crisp green lawns with walking trails and gurgling streams, the private quarters were both luxurious and rustic and a perfect haven for the pr
ince and sheiks.

  Except that now murder tainted their trip, a murder she needed to solve to ensure Stefan’s safety.

  Dammit. In spite of her resolve not to become involved with him, she cared more about his safety than she wanted to admit.

  She also wanted to go back in his suite and get gloriously naked with him.

  Frustrated with herself, she slumped onto the garden bench and stared into the bubbling fountain.

  Thank goodness Stefan’s chief aide had interrupted or she would be making love with him right now.

  And that would be a huge mistake.

  Jane Cameron was a working girl. A plain girl. A girl who did not give her body away easily.

  Or her heart.

  And unlike some of the modern girls she knew, her body and heart were tied together in one complicated knot.

  How had she let this happen? How could she be so foolish?

  She stood, knowing she needed to leave. She could not go back inside and see Stefan tonight or breathe his intoxicating scent, not while her heart sat on her sleeve ready for him to pillage it.

  From her vantage point in the garden, she heard voices and Stefan’s door opened. He stood for a moment talking to his chief aide, then the older man disappeared toward the neighboring guesthouse. Jane expected Stefan to retreat back inside to rest, but instead he exited his cottage and headed up the path.

  He was alone. No security guard.

  She stepped from the canopy of flowers into his path. “Where are you going, Stefan?”

  He halted abruptly, his eyes widening at the sight of her. “I…thought you had left, Jane.”

  Hunger spiraled in her belly as his gaze moved over her. Desperate to fight temptation, she resorted to taking the offensive. “I…no.” She folded her arms. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Where are your guards?”

  Agitation lined his face. “I needed some space, time to think.”

  Did he mean from her as well?

  “But it’s not safe for you, Stefan.”

  “A man cannot always play by the rules.” A sliver of something sexual possessed his eyes then, and he reached up and tucked an unruly strand of her hair behind one ear. “Perhaps I like a little bit of danger.”

 

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