Page 31 of Crowned for His Son

They’d moved on to accessories and make-up when approaching footsteps interrupted them. The tingling at her nape and between her shoulder blades signalled who their visitor was before she turned.

Azar’s gaze dragged over her before locking on her face. ‘Everything all right?’

‘Should it not be?’

His eyes narrowed and she realised she’d been snippy again. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. Instead, she watched him stride across and settle himself into the seat opposite from her.

His scent assailed her, and for the life of her she couldn’t quite catch the breath that had come so easily moments ago.

‘Max—?’

‘Is fine,’ he said. ‘He has three of my staff making fools of themselves to keep him entertained and is thoroughly enjoying the attention.’

‘Oh…and you’re staying here?’

‘Any reason I shouldn’t?’

‘Well…don’t you have things to do? Meetings?’ She plucked the word feebly out of the air.

He shrugged. ‘I did. Until my meeting got cancelled.’

She snorted before she could help herself.

One eyebrow rose, his eyes glinting. ‘Something amusing?’

‘I seriously doubt that anyone would cancel on a crown prince.’

Eden heard a muted gasp from one of Sabeen’s assistants, but was too embroiled by the look in Azar’s eyes to heed it.

It held the smallest trace of amusement, plus that sliver of respect that loosened a knot of tension. If he liked her standing up to him—and he seemed to—maybe this exercise wouldn’t be so dreadful after all. Because healthy banter was surely a good foundation for serious communication?

Among other things?

‘When a minister’s pregnant wife goes into early labour, requiring his presence at her side for the birth of their first child, then, yes, he is allowed to cancel on a crown prince with impunity.’

‘Oh…’

‘Since we’ve got the wardrobe and accessories mostly settled, shall we discuss how specifically you wish to be styled?’ Sabeen asked, her expert eye roving Eden’s form. ‘Perhaps you have a signature look in mind? I can suggest a few things. We can go as simple or as elaborate as you want. Perhaps a shorter hairstyle—’

‘No.’The growled word made them both turn to the full force of Azar’s glare. ‘She will not be cutting her hair. It stays the way it is.’

The kick in her midriff should have been born of outrage. Instead, it unfurled into a blaze so powerful its heat seared her insides. Her nipples tightened and her thighs clenched as forbidden delight lit through her.

God…what the hell was wrong with her? Hadn’t she only just warned Sabeen about the domineering attitude of the Domene brothers? Yet here she was, falling for the same masculine display.

She barely heard Sabeen excuse herself, gather her assistants before quickly leaving the room. The soft snick of the door drove the exquisite tension in the room higher.

‘Shouldn’t that be my choice?’ she demanded.

God, why did she sound so breathless? And why did her heart rate triple when he surged powerfully to his feet and prowled towards her?

He shrugged. ‘Ultimately, I cannot stop you, of course. But why dispose of such a striking asset when you don’t need to?’

‘You think my hair is “striking”?’

Heavens, could she sound any needier?

With a deft move he reached behind her and plucked the clasp holding her hair back from her face. Set loose, the long wings framed her face and Azar’s gaze ran feverishly over it.

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