toppled forward, and as he came he slid her over and over down onto him, over the edge with him.
Their faces were next to each other and she could feel her hair was damp. Every part of her was more than warm, her skin was on fire, and she had never known anything like this feeling of silence and peace—this space they had walked into together.
He slipped her off him and she fell beside him, breathless, and looked him in the eye.
Then they smiled, because it had been better than they had hoped or dared to expect.
She wanted to touch and explore him, but they lay for just a moment, both thrumming in private bliss as they kissed each other down.
THEY LAY ENTWINED TOGETHER, and Kedah listened to the hum of the engines as the plane carried them to his home. Deeply sated, he found his mind was clearer.
Felicia’s wasn’t.
She lay with her head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart as her hand toyed with the silky straight hair on his stomach that she had, right from the start, wanted to feel.
Now that she had, still she wanted.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Felicia spoke but, far too comfortable in his arms, did not raise her head.
‘It depends what it is.’
Kedah was no open book.
‘Do you want to be King?’
‘Of course,’ he answered as his hand stroked her bare arm. ‘I was born to be King.’
‘So why aren’t you there all the time?’
‘Because my plans to improve Zazinia are repeatedly turned down. I refuse to be an impotent Crown Prince...’
‘I doubt there’s any chance of that...’ she said, and her hand crept down.
‘I had a stand-off with my father and the old King some years ago,’ Kedah told her. ‘They had turned down every plan I had submitted and it was evident that they were never going to accept them. I asked for confirmation and they gave it to me—they did not welcome change. I love to design and so I chose to go it alone. That diamond I carry—it was from the sale of my first hotel. They loathe that I am self-made because it means that I am not beholden to them. I want, though, to make my land better for the people.’
‘And now you can?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘The old King is dead,’ Felicia pointed out.
‘My father still chooses to listen to the elders and Mohammed.’
‘I know you, Kedah—you could convince anyone of anything.’ After all, she was in his bed. ‘Your people love you.’
‘I know they do.’
‘What will happen when the Accession Council meet?’
‘Mohammed shall state his case, and I shall state mine, and my father shall be asked to make a formal choice.’
‘And if it isn’t you, you’ll take it to the people to vote?’
And it was then that she knew him. Or rather she knew for certain that there was far more to this than Kedah was admitting to.
She did not blush. She had been trained not to react from an early age. And Kedah was the same—he never revealed fear. And so the hand on her arm did not tighten, nor did his breathing change, but as she carried on speaking she heard his heart rate quicken.
‘And who would the people chose?’ she asked.
‘I believe...me.’
‘No problem, then.’
‘None.’
His response was measured and calm. Had they been having this conversation standing and facing each other, she would not have known of the nerve she had just hit, but his heart beat like a jackhammer in his chest.
‘So why are you busy making billions just in case?’
He did not answer, and she lay there listening to the rapid thud of his heart.
‘Does Mohammed have something on you?’
‘I told you,’ Kedah answered evenly. ‘I don’t regret my past.’
‘I know there’s a scandal looming.’ Felicia smiled. ‘I can smell them a mile off.’
There was.
For the first time in his life he needed advice. The question as to how to approach his mother had been rolling around in his head like a ball bearing in a pinball machine. Ideas were bounced around and were rapidly dismissed, but over and over he returned to one small corner that said he should speak with someone.
Who?
And, though he kept flicking the thought away, always the ball rolled back and settled in a pocket marked ‘Felicia.’
He trusted no one, and yet...
‘Felicia?’
She was sleepy and warm in his arms, though her low murmur in answer to her name told him she was awake.
‘If I were to tell you something, would it remain between us?’
‘Of course.’ She smiled again. ‘Hit me with it—a pregnant prostitute?’
‘Excuse me?’ he said, and then smiled in the darkness as he realised she was still trying to guess what his secret was. ‘Was that before or after I got married in Vegas?’
She pulled herself from his arms and onto her elbow and she looked at him as his smile faded. The truth was scary sometimes, and she felt its brief threat.
‘What is it?’
He shook his head, and Felicia knew when to remain silent. Any guessing now would only irritate, so she lay back down and played with his chest instead as she thought how best to respond.
‘If you decide to tell me it shan’t go any further.’
‘Thank you.’
The gift of time was the best he had known, and he was grateful for it. He was aware it would be all to easy to say what was on his mind in this post-coital haze only to regret it later.
Even that didn’t make full sense to him, though, for he did not usually indulge in pillow talk.
There was a small buzzing sound. It would seem that their flying time was nearly over. He reached out and flicked on a light and for the first time Felicia took in their splendid surroundings. Apart from
