way a woman could seduce a man with just one look, he knew he was lost.
Tonight, he was hers.
‘I will drink to that,’ Kaliana said as she tried once again not to notice how incredibly sexy she found this man. Her friend and flatmate, Claire, had told her she needed to let go of the past. Get out there and have fun. Be the woman she really wanted to be.
So she’d thrown caution to the wind and headed out to do just that, planning to meet up with her friends as soon as they all finished work. But she’d never expected this. Not just the man himself, but an undeniable need to be with a man she didn’t even know. And in a way she’d never experienced.
He was just the distraction she needed after today’s call from her father, reminding her that two weeks had passed since she’d agreed to find a man wealthy enough to save her kingdom. And save herself from a marriage to a brutal bully.
Maybe Claire was right. Maybe she needed to find herself before she could find a husband. Had fate brought her this man for that exact reason? She focused on the stranger. His white shirt was open at the neck and, if she was brave enough to look lower, more than hinted at his bronzed and well-defined chest, dusted with dark hair.
That same call of hungry need which had first zipped through her when she’d looked at his handsome face, into his intensely black eyes, unfurled once more. It wasn’t like her at all. She’d always avoided men like him. Dangerously sexy men. Men who could make her want the impossible. Men who could make her forget. Because she didn’t want to forget Alif and their innocent young love.
But tonight she needed this. She had no intention of avoiding anything or anyone. She wanted to take whatever the evening offered. When she’d seen the handsome stranger, glaring into his drink, she’d known with an unnerving certainty that he was what she wanted. What she needed.
Tonight, she wanted to be a different woman. She wanted a distraction. She needed the rebellion against the hand fate had dealt her. That need burned brighter than ever. Pushing her on. Making her want to taste what could have been.
You want him. A voice echoed in her mind, chanting and triumphant. The little miss prim and proper virgin she’d always been wanted this sex god of a man. And why shouldn’t she have some fun? Rebellion rippled through her again, stronger than ever. Nobody would ever know if she had a little bit of fun. Indulged in a bit of flirting. Not here in London. Not so far away from Ardu Safra. In London she was simply Kaliana. Nobody knew her here and she could hide from her weighty royal title.
Excitement zipped through her. Maybe it was time to taste even more than that. Maybe it was time to finally let go of the past, of who she’d been, and discover what physically being with a man was like. But not just any man. This man.
She looked up into the stranger’s face to see a slow sexy smile spread across his lips. Heat infused her cheeks. She knew he couldn’t possibly read her mind, but she wondered if he had. If he knew just how much she wanted him.
He picked up his glass and raised it to her. ‘A toast. To this moment.’
Her tongue slicked over suddenly parched lips, her breath seeming harder to come by. Less natural. Her heart thumped. Her body heated. She liked the way he made her feel. Liked the sensation of freedom and power this surge of sexual chemistry between them gave her. Freedom she might never know again if she did her duty by her family and made a marriage to financially save the kingdom of Ardu Safra.
The thought of the man she’d be forced to marry if she didn’t make a deal with a man of her choice almost squashed her bravado. No, she inwardly berated herself. She wouldn’t think of Nassif now or of how her life would be if they married. All she wanted to think about was this moment. This man.
‘To the moment,’ she said boldly, hoping she didn’t sound as gauche and inexperienced as she really was.
She’d never chatted up a man like this before. Never given out such a clear message of wanting far more than idle chat to any man other than the man she’d once been engaged to. Yet here she was. Alone. In a bar. With a sinfully sexy man. Not wanting the moment to end.
She sipped her champagne. All the while his inky black eyes watched her, his brow slightly furrowed. His stubble-covered jaw was stern and set. He looked powerful. Commanding. And sexy.
He called to her on a level she’d never known existed. Made her want the impossible. Made her want to be someone else—for tonight at least. Something no other man had made her feel since Alif’s death.
‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ he said, his gravelly voice sending spirals of heat through her, nudging at the need, the attraction he raised. Demanding the kind of satisfaction she knew instinctively only he could give her.
‘Just first names,’ she said quickly, watching his brows raise before a smile of conspiracy slid slowly over his lips. Sinfully sexy didn’t come anywhere near it.
‘As you wish.’ He lifted his glass of champagne to her, his eyes darkening with wild desire, making her head spin more than the champagne she wasn’t really used to. ‘Rafe.’
‘Ana,’ she said quickly, unable to quell the shimmer of excitement rushing through her.
The feeling was so powerful she drank the remainder of her champagne in one go, not missing his amusement, which set off sparks in his eyes as well as inside her. He pulled the bottle of champagne from the cooler, ice rattling as it was disturbed and, without a word, replenished her glass.
When he looked at her again his expression was speculative, but thankfully he didn’t say anything, didn’t ask further questions. Instead he replaced the bottle in the ice with the kind of familiarity that made her think he must be a waiter. Maybe he worked here? Maybe he’d just finished for the night?
‘Are you a waiter here?’ she asked as he took a sip of his champagne.
His eyes widened and for a moment she thought the champagne he’d sipped would be fired all over her. She’d clearly shocked him. Offended him even. She’d been so taken in by him she hadn’t paid that much attention to his clothes—just him. But now she looked more closely, she could see his shirt wasn’t just any shirt. It was quality, fitting him to perfection, and had probably been made for him.
‘No. I am a guest. As are you, I presume.’
‘I am,’ she said with renewed determination. She knew that whatever happened next—and the fact that something would was as certain as the full moon which would rise over London—she wanted this night.
She was a woman with needs. A woman with desires. A woman this man had set alight with one sexy smile.
She was more than entitled to this one night. She’d lost the love of her life and soon she would be forced into a marriage she didn’t want. This moment was hers. And she intended to take it. All of it.
‘Then I am honoured to be able to share this evening with you.’ He glanced at her, pouring himself another glass of champagne. She watched, mesmerised by his olive hands, long regal fingers, wrapping around the bottle so eloquently.
What would it feel like to have those hands touch her? To have those fingers bring pleasure to her body?
He looked directly
