Page 53 of Raul
“It’s the middle of the afternoon. Someone could come to see you.” She shuddered at the idea of the king walking in while she was naked in the middle of Raul’s living room. She stepped into her pink lace panties and pulled them up, a tingle shimmering through her as the fabric touched her sensitized clitoris.
“I have the privacy code on. No one will come in, I promise.” He kissed her shoulder, the feel of his lips sending an erotic shiver over her skin.
She turned to look up at him and nearly came again. His eyes were sleepy with sated passion, his chest loomed, wide and well-muscled, right in front of her eyes, and his lips curled in a seductive smile.
“What about your father?” She couldn’t resist pressing her hand against his pec, the silk knit of his shirt smooth under her palm.
Raul shook his head. “Not even my father would disregard the privacy code. He respects my boundaries. I do the same with his. Our lives are so public that we guard our private moments with ferocity. It would be untenable otherwise.”
“That must be hard,” she said, struck by his revelation. “To be watched all the time by so many people.”
“Some of whom hope I screw up?” He surprised her by shrugging instead of sounding bitter. “It comes with the title.”
“I’m glad I’m not a prince.” She scooped up her jeans.
“So am I.” He gave her breasts a lascivious look.
She rolled her eyes as she shimmied into her pants. “We have work to do.”
“And your beautiful body would distract me.” He sighed and snagged her bra and shirt from the chair arm, holding them out to her.
She slipped into her clothes and shoved her feet back into her shoes as he picked up his crutch and braced it under his arm again.
“You broke your promise about the crutch,” she pointed out.
“I had a much more interesting support to hold on to. And my ankle feels better. Practically brand new.” He grinned as he grabbed the second crutch that was leaning against an occasional table. “Let’s go to my private office so I can write up a report for Mikel of your encounter at the Dragon Center.”
He pivoted toward a door near the one leading to the dining room and gestured for her to go ahead of him. As she walked, she put an extra sway in her hips because she could sense him watching her. After the explosive sex, she felt powerfully feminine.
“You are not helping me focus on business,” he said with a rasp in his voice.
She threw him a smoldering glance over her shoulder, a wash of heat flowing through her at the hunger in his eyes.
But that would have to wait. She pushed the door open and raised her eyebrows in admiration. “I want an office like this,” she said.
The spacious room held a conference table and chairs, as well as a sleek U-shaped desk supporting several high-tech screens. What excited her envy, though, was the row of tall windows that gave Raul a view over the rooftops of San Ignacio to the rolling fields and mountains beyond.
“Best view in the palace, in my opinion.” He stood in profile beside her, his gaze directed through the windows, while she found an even better view in the strong line of his jaw, the straight blade of his nose, and the way his hair swept back from his forehead. Everything he gazed at was his, in a way. Did he feel the weight of that every time he looked out the window? She gave an internal grimace at the size of his responsibility.
He turned back to her. “May I ask you to grab my laptop from the desk and bring it to the conference table?”
She fetched the laptop while he settled on one side of the walnut-and-chrome table, propping his injured foot on the gray leather chair across from him. She sat at his side, their thighs brushing in a delicious friction, and slid the computer in front of him. He left it closed, though, and focused his gaze on her. “Tell me about yourbiteat the Dragon Center.”
As she gave him a summary of her encounter with St. Germain, he listened with such attention that she felt it as an almost physical force. Somehow, he had become the prince again, and she found her tone and diction becoming more formal, an odd juxtaposition to what they had just done in the living room.
When she finished, he nodded, a wave of his hair falling forward at his temple. She stopped herself from brushing it back into place. “What kind of impression did you get of St. Germain? Would he tell someone where a dragon’s nest was, even if he suspected that it would get stolen?”
“Well, given that he asked for cash, he wouldn’t give me his cell number, and he immediately came up with a rendezvous location, I would say he has done something similar before.” She considered for a moment. “He had that slick-con-man vibe too. Very personable, but a little sleazy.”
“Selling dragon eggshells is not strictly illegal. Selling the location of a nest isn’t either, unless he knew for a fact that the buyer planned to take the eggs and/or the dragon,” Raul ruminated before he flipped open the laptop and started typing. He looked up with a smile that sent an ache of want tingling through her. “Quinn will probably give us the most thorough background check on Ricardo St. Germain that has ever been done. She’ll be so happy to have a nonwedding-related task to do.”
After a couple of minutes’ work, Raul spun the laptop toward her. “Is this an accurate summary?”
It was a master class in how to write a report—concise yet complete, the language interesting without being intrusive, her impressions included but clearly labeled as opinion rather than fact. “I think you’ve written a few of these before,” she said. “It’s perfect.” His skill sent another flare of yearning through her. He was sexyandbrilliant.
She swiveled the computer back to him as her admiration twined with a sudden disquiet. Seeing the level of his work reminded her again that he wasn’t just a hot guy she had great sex with. He was the future ruler of her country.
And a man she had more feelings for than she should. His trust in her was undermining all her barriers. When he calledhermi corazón, her insides turned to mush, and her heart did flip-flops. Why had she let herself be seduced into caring about him? She winced inwardly. The end of this relationship was going to hurt. A lot.
