Scandal: His Majesty's Love-Child

Tahir had become a son no parent could be proud of. His mother’s distance made it clear he’d long ago destroyed any vestige of parental devotion.

And now? Perhaps she needed something.

That was why people got close: for what he could provide. Money, sex, publicity, the excitement of walking on the wild side with a man whose reputation was notorious.

‘I’d be delighted to join her.’ Tahir turned to his vizier. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

Akmal was already bowing. ‘Of course, sire.’

He pulled up short in the doorway. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the deep-set windows. It caught golden highlights in a woman’s rich brown hair.

His stomach clenched as memories stirred. Long silken tresses tangling round him as he shivered in pleasure and release. Smiling dark eyes looking shyly up at him. Lush red lips tentatively kissing his flesh. His heart had leapt at that gentle caress.

She turned and his heart ricocheted against his ribs, beating out of kilter.

‘Annalisa!’ He was halfway across the room before he remembered himself and took note of the situation.

Annalisa, the girl he’d left angry and hurt but well, looked far too pale. Her face was thinner, and her brow puckered as if she were in pain. Her lips were compressed in a nervous line and her eyes skittered from his.

He started forward again.

‘Tahir. I’m glad you could join us.’ His mother rose from a nearby divan and he slammed to a halt.

Swiftly he bowed. ‘Mother.’

He sent her a searching stare, but she met his regard blandly. What was going on?

‘Ms Hansen.’

Annalisa looked up, eyes wide with surprise. Last time they’d been together the circumstances hadn’t been so formal.

Curling heat in his belly testified to just how informal they’d been. Blood pooled low in his body, a precursor to the heavy weight of arousal.

He stood straighter, stunned by his reaction. For months his sex drive had been absent. Till Annalisa. Since recuperating he’d felt not a twinge of interest in any of the local beauties. Yet one glance at her and…

Quickly he took the seat his mother indicated.

An antique tea service was laid out on a low table. A gold salver held syrupy cakes and figs. A laden plate sat before Annalisa, untouched.

‘Ms Hansen has come to see you, Tahir. I met her at the palace gates.’ His mother regarded him steadily, her look now razor-sharp.

His skin tightened. What had Annalisa said?

‘I knew you’d want to thank her for what she did in the desert.’ She turned, smiling at her guest. ‘We owe you an enormous debt of gratitude, Annalisa.’

Tahir accepted a glass in a filigree holder and murmured his thanks, his gaze straying to Annalisa’s silent form.

Despite the Queen’s hospitality, she was uncomfortable, her shoulders hunched defensively. He knew a burning need to reach out and gentle her, as he would a nervous filly. Instead he curled his fingers around his tea.

Where was the confident woman who’d nursed him? Who camped alone so self-sufficiently?

‘How are you?’ he asked, willing her to meet his gaze. She stared at a point near his left ear.

‘I’m fine, thank you.’

The husky edge to her voice caught at his midriff, drawing muscles tight.

Something was wrong. He knew it with a gut-deep certainty even this stifling formality couldn’t quell. He put the tea down with a click on the inlaid table. Had someone hurt her? The hairs rose on the back of his neck as unfamiliar waves of emotion washed through him.

The shrill ring of a phone intruded and Tahir got to his feet, eager for an excuse to move.

‘It’s for you, Mother,’ he said moments later. ‘Some crisis with the reception you’re planning.’

His mother rose gracefully. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’d better take this.’ She paused, turning to Annalisa. ‘If you’ll be all right, my dear?’

Fiery colour flared in Annalisa’s cheeks, yet her hands clenched so tight her knuckles shone white. ‘Of course, ma’am. Thank you.’

Tahir waited till his mother took the phone into the next room. Then he turned, every sense on alert as foreboding chilled his blood.

She should never have come.

Afternoon sun highlighted the strong contours of Tahir’s face, gifting his glossy hair with a luxurious blue-black sheen. His eyes were vivid and probing under straight brows.

He was more imposing than she remembered. She thought she’d imagined that potent allure, that heady male strength and the lazy sexuality of his smile. But one look, just the sound of her name on his lips, and she was in danger of falling for him all over again.

Even knowing how cold and callous he really was!