Page 30 of Crowned for His Son

She met Azar’s piercing gaze and nodded. ‘Then you should tell him.’

He surged from his seat immediately, came around to her side and crouched down next to Max, where he was strapped into his seat. Max paused in his play, the distinctive eyes she’d tried to downplay so similar to his father’s, wide and inquisitive.

Emotion flashed over Azar’s face as his son offered him a puzzle piece. Instead of taking it, Azar wrapped his much larger hand over Max’s, bringing his pudgy fist to his mouth and dropping several gentle kisses on it before he brought it to rest on his chest.

As if knowing the gravity of the moment, Max didn’t fuss at having his playtime interrupted. He remained silent as Azar said in deep, low tones, ‘I am your father, Maximiliano. Yourpapá.’

Her clever son caught the emphasis of the word, or perhaps it sounded familiar enough that he blinked once, then repeated, ‘Papá?’

Watching an emotional shudder move through this powerful prince Eden had no recollection of creating her beautiful boy with dragged a lump to her throat. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she remained frozen as Azar’s head moved in a nod.

His Adam’s apple bobbed once before he replied,‘Sí. Papá.’

Even while registering that there were several issues between them to be resolved she held this moment close, happy for her son. And it was made all the more precious because it was a million miles removed from the savage outcome of her attempted reconnection with her own father.

* * *

Paris was everything she’d dreamed it would be.

And viewed from this lofty perch, beside a crown prince who commanded an entire realm, it was even more breathtaking.

Because of course they were flying by helicopter from Charles de Gaulle Airport to the top of their five-star hotel.

And of course they were ushered straight into the royal suite, where another clutch of staff stood ready to fulfil their smallest desire.

But the person who had snagged Eden’s attention immediately was a drop-dead stunning woman, who stood almost six feet tall, wearing a brown leather pencil skirt and a ruffled chiffon layered top with a boat neck that displayed a bone structure most women would kill for. Satin-smooth dark caramel skin draped over high cheekbones served as the perfect platform to showcase her almond-shaped honey-brown eyes.

Eyes that flitted over Azar and, after a courteous greeting, returned to Eden, then to Max. Like most people who met her son, her face warmed in a smile, before returning to Eden.

Eden discovered the reason for her scrutiny a moment later, when she turned on killer legs, one sculpted arm outstretched.

‘Lovely to meet you, Miss Moss. I’m Sabeen El-Maleh, Teo Domene’s creative director at the House of Domene. I’m to fit you with a new wardrobe before your trip to Cartana.’

Her voice was a deep, sexy husk that Eden was sure must draw the opposite sex like bees to honey.

Eden hated the faint pang in her midriff, the compulsion to see if Azar was in any way affected by this breathtaking beauty, but his attention was entirely on Max as he scooped up his son and held him against his chest.

‘We’ll leave you ladies to it,’ he said.

With that he walked away, just as another staff member arrived with a tray of refreshments, effectively making any protests Eden had thought to make redundant. A little overwhelmed, and a touch irritated, she was learning that the royal machine was oiled by heavy doses of extreme politeness hiding determined steering.

But she accepted that Sabeen had taken time out of her likely busy schedule to attend her at short notice.

Taking the seat offered, she glanced at Sabeen. ‘Pardon me, but do creative directors usually undertake such tasks? I thought you’d have minions or stylists for that?’

A peculiar expression passed over Sabeen’s face, quickly veiled as she shrugged. ‘I was already in Paris for the week and Teo… Mr Domene asked me as a personal favour.’

Eden noted the slip and changed cadence in Sabeen’s tone but ignored it. It wasn’t her place to comment, and she had more important things to worry about.

But she couldn’t help but add, ‘If that means he owes you a favour, you should totally collect. I’m learning quickly that the Domene men are a domineering force who require occasional checking before they flatten you.’

Sabeen looked up from a large satin case she’d been examining, surprise lightening her eyes before she gave a low, forced laugh. ‘Great advice, thanks.’ She paused, her gaze darting to the double doors Azar had exited through. ‘And if you don’t mind my saying so, be sure to keep that one on his toes. Men like him get away with far too much, in my opinion.’

Their eyes met and held in silent reinforcement of welcome solidarity. Eden could and would stand her ground.

Then, with brisk instructions, a veritable feast of the most gorgeous designs Eden had ever seen outside a magazine were presented to her.

Quickly growing overwhelmed as her mind conjured up just where she would need to wear such exquisite clothes, she resigned herself to nodding at most of the selections and discarding the too risqué ones she knew she’d never be able to pull off wearing.

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