‘Wow!’ was the best he could do as he fought down visceral desire and the need to tug her into his arms and rekindle the spark that he knew with gut-wrenching certainty would burst into flame. To kiss her senseless...
What the hell was he thinking? More to the point, what part of himself was he thinking with?
Maybe he was more like his father than he knew. Alphonse had always put physical desire above all else. If he’d been attracted to a woman he’d acted on that attraction, regardless of marriage vows, fidelity or the tenets of plain, common decency. The last ruler of Lycander had believed that his desires were paramount, and it didn’t matter who got hurt in the process.
Frederick wouldn’t walk that road. He never had—that, at least, was one immoral path he’d avoided.
His business with Sunita was exactly that—business. He had an idea to propound, an idea he would not mix with the physical.
‘You look fantastic.’
‘Thank you. I know it sounds shallow, but it is awesome to dress up again.’
She smoothed her hand down the skirt and her smile caught at his chest.
‘You look pretty good yourself. Where did the suit come from?’
‘I had it delivered whilst I was waiting.’
‘Good thinking, Batman.’
Her voice was a little breathless, and he knew that she was as affected as he was by their proximity. Her scent teased him, her eyes met his, and what he saw in their deep brown depths made him almost groan aloud.
Enough.
Right now he had to focus on the most important factor, and that was Amil. Irritation scoured him that he could be letting physical attraction come into play.
He nodded to the door. ‘We’d better go.’
* * *
&nb
sp; Sunita wanted, needed this journey to come to an end. Despite the spacious interior of the limo, Frederick was too...close.
Memories lingered in the air, and her body was on high alert, tuned in to his every move, and she loathed her own weakness as much now as she had two years before. She needed to distract herself, to focus on what was important—and that was Amil.
The day’s events had moved at warp speed and she was desperately trying to keep up. The truth was out, and it was imperative she kept control of a future that she could no longer reliably predict.
Frederick wanted to be a real part of Amil’s life—he had made that more than clear. But at this point she had no idea what that meant, and she knew she had to tread carefully.
The limo slowed down and she took a deep breath as it glided to a stop.
‘Ready?’ he asked.
‘Ready.’
With any luck she wouldn’t have lost her touch with the press. In truth, she’d always liked the paparazzi. Her mother had always told her that publicity was a means to measure success, part of the climb to fame and fortune and independence.
They stepped out into a crowd of reporters, the click of cameras and a fire of questions.
‘Are you back together?’
‘Friends or lovers?’
‘Does Kaitlin know?’
‘Where have you been, Sunita?’