Gambling with the Crown

No matter how fake it would be.

“I don’t need a ceremony.”

He tipped his head, as if he’d known she would say that. “Then there will not be one.”

She clasped her hands in her lap, twisted them together. It was incongruous to be discussing marriage with her boss while in her pajamas in Paris, but that’s precisely what she was doing. How surreal.

“Will there be other paperwork? A prenuptial agreement? A contract detailing the terms of our arrangement?”

“Do you require either of those things?”

She could only blink at him. “It seems prudent, don’t you think? What if I decide I like being a princess so much that I refuse to divorce you and then ask for half your assets when you insist? Or what if you become unhappy with my performance and decide not to pay me?”

He laughed and she let the sound drip down her spine, warming her though she did not want it to.

“You are delightful, Emily. If I don’t tell you that enough, I am remiss.” He got to his feet then and she stood, too, more out of habit than anything. “I will have those documents done as well, if it makes you feel better.”

She sucked in a fortifying breath. “I haven’t said yes yet.”

“But you will.”

Heat rolled through her. She would, but she didn’t like how easily he could read her. Or maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe he just expected her to obey. Because she always had before.

“How can you be so certain? This is far different than ordering me to make phone calls or type up a new proposal.”

He came closer to her and she forced herself to remain where she was. She would not duck away like a frightened kitten. Then he put his warm hands on her shoulders and she felt as if she’d been struck by lightning again.

“I need you, Emily. More than I’ve ever needed you before. And I think you will say yes because you’ve worked for me for four years now and you are good at what you do. You won’t want to walk away when I need you. It’s a challenge, and you like challenges.”

She could only stare up at him, her insides clenching and rolling as his touch made things jump inside her. Things that hadn’t jumped in a good long while.

“I—I have conditions,” she managed.

His brows drew down, but he didn’t look angry. “Conditions?”

She swallowed. It’s for the money. For my dad. “For this to work, you can’t order me to do things. The moment we sign the documents, I am no longer your employee.”

His gaze slipped to her mouth, and she thought her knees might refuse to hold her a moment longer. But then he looked at her again, an expression of curiosity and bemusement on his handsome face. “Do you want to be more, Emily? Oddly, I find I might enjoy such a notion—”

“No.” She cut him off, and immediately wanted to gasp. She had never done such a thing before. He was gazing at her steadily so she hurried on. “Partners. We will be business partners.”

It was the only way she could do this. If she continued to think of herself as his employee, she would never manage the deception. Because she knew what happened when bosses and employees crossed the line. And she was too professional to do so, even if it was only an arrangement. For her own peace of mind, she had to separate those parts of her life.

“Fine.” He didn’t seem angry in the least.

Her heart throbbed painfully at what she was about to say. “Then I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”

Kadir seemed to relax slightly, as if he’d believed for a moment she might actually refuse him. His hands slid almost sensuously down her arms, left a trail of flame in their wake. Her skin prickled and tingled. She wanted to shrug away, to get out of his grasp—and she wanted to move closer at the same time.

“There are only two things left to do in order to seal this deal.” His voice was like silk and she shivered in response.

His hands dropped away then, but before she could breathe a sigh of relief, he reached up to cup her neck. Then he drew her forward as her heart hammered. Her feet moved as if he was the one in control of them rather than her.

“Wh-what?” She cursed herself for sounding nervous—but he was touching her, and apparently that made her light-headed.

“First I have to fire you,” he murmured, his gaze focusing on her mouth as she came in contact with the broad wall of his chest. Her hands went up automatically, rested on the soft cotton of his shirt. He was hard and warm beneath the fabric. She knew he went to the gym, and she knew what his body looked like beneath the cotton. Firm, tanned, beautiful.

No, she told herself. You don’t care. You haven’t cared in four years.

She had to focus, had to concentrate on what he was saying rather than on what he was doing. She could not lose her perspective here. “What’s the other thing?”

His eyes glittered and one corner of his mouth lifted in what could only be termed a self-satisfied smile. “I have to kiss you, Emily.”

CHAPTER FOUR

SHOCK RIPPLED THROUGH her like a wave. It was quickly followed by a pang of heat and longing that nearly took her breath away. Kadir pulled her more firmly against his body, and then his head dipped toward hers. She closed her eyes automatically, her heart hammering so hard she was going to be dizzy.

Kadir was going to kiss her. Her boss for the past four years, the man she’d served across continents and time zones without one single moment of inappropriateness, was about to kiss her.

Just like he’d kissed Lenore Bradford yesterday and a million other women before her. Emily had watched the revolving door of his life for far too long. She’d seen the women come and go. She’d walked many of them to the door herself as they clutched their handbags. Half the time with their wadded-up panty hose trailing from their purses as they took the walk of shame.

She’d witnessed it and, if she was honest with herself, she’d been utterly judgmental. What kind of idiot woman got herself involved with a playboy sheikh? Oh, she knew what they all thought. What they hoped. That they were the one. The one he would marry and make into his princess.

Sure, some of them just wanted sex, the same as he did. And that was fine. She didn’t pity those women, the ones who knew what they wanted and what they were getting.

The majority, however, were the other kind. The dreamers and schemers and hopefuls.

And she was not about to become one of them.

Emily shoved against his chest. His grip immediately eased and she stepped backward, out of his grasp. Her chest rose and fell as if she’d run a marathon. She wrapped her arms around herself, embarrassed at the effect he was having, and moved farther away.

Her wineglass was waiting on the table, so she picked it up and took a gulp. Then she faced him again. He looked oddly on edge, like a tiger waiting to pounce.

“No kissing,” she said hoarsely.

“I’m afraid that is a condition I cannot accept.” He sounded so cool, so calm, as if touching her hadn’t meant a thing to him. Which, of course, it hadn’t. His pulse wasn’t racing like hers. His breath wasn’t a struggle. She was simply another female to him.

“You have to.”

He shook his head, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Impossible, Emily. I can hardly be besotted with a wife I never kiss, now can I? Besides, you have already agreed. You cannot change the terms of the agreement afterward. That is bad business.”

She clutched the wineglass like a lifeline. She knew he was right, but dammit, why hadn’t she thought of it before? Why hadn’t she made it a condition?

Because it’s stupid, that’s why. Because he’s paying you to be his wife, and husbands kiss their wives.

“Fine, you can kiss me. But only in public. Only when it’s necessary for the illusion. No touching in private. No kissing either.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Are you that afraid of me, Emily? Worried about what kissing me will do to you?”