charged with a unique voltage that zinged through her bloodstream, firing up little explosions of fireworks. A handful of seconds passed, then more, and then all sense of time and space disappeared as Zufar looked down into her eyes.
Tawny-gold eyes seared right into her soul, as if he intended to possess her every thought. Somewhere in the distance the royal jets performed acrobatic loops, and then started their return journey. She knew it was only a matter of moments before millions of confetti pieces would be tossed from the sky and showered upon them.
It was the moment the crowd had been waiting for.
The moment when the King kissed his new Queen.
Never in her wildest dreams had she believed it would be her. Above that, never in her wildest dreams had she believed that a man like Zufar would be staring down at her with that intense look in his eyes.
It was all an act, she repeated to herself. But her hammering heart and the frenzied little cyclones whirling through her veins dared to suggest otherwise. His hand steered her to face him, an insistent move that told her that there was no getting away from this. Zufar, the man she’d harboured silly dreams about in her teenage years, was about to kiss her.
Far above her head, a gigantic burst of blues and golds rained from the sky. Niesha paid little attention. Every single cell in her body was focused on the head slowly lowering towards hers, the hand grasping her waist, and the firm, insistent tug as he pulled her close.
‘Relax,’ he breathed, his voice holding warning as well as rough reassurance.
But Niesha wasn’t reassured. How many women dreamed that their very first kiss would be witnessed by millions, if not billions of people across the world? What if she got it wrong? What if she made a complete fool of herself, more than she had before this whole debacle started? And what if—
‘Niesha,’ Zufar murmured again, his warning deeper this time.
‘I’m trying,’ she whispered back fiercely.
‘Try harder. You look as if you are heading for the gallows instead of your first kiss with your new husband. Is kissing me such a daunting prospect?’ he drawled.
‘Maybe it is. Have you considered that it may be the last thing I want?’
His eyes widened a touch with surprise at the spark of defiance in her voice.
Tawny-gold eyes gleamed an instant before the first shower of confetti drifted past her. Another landed on her cheek.
About to brush it away, she froze when he murmured, ‘Stop.’
He captured her free hand, the one not holding the bouquet, and laid it gently on his chest. And then, with a suave move, he brushed the tiny gold piece of tinsel from her cheek. Expecting his hand to return to her waist, Niesha gave a little gasp as his fingers stroked her jaw and then drifted to her neck.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She’d seen more than a few royal first kisses, had dreamed many years ago of how it would feel to be the recipient of one, just like any other girl her age.
Those embraces had been chaste, the exchanged gazes nowhere near this intense.
Zufar was breaking protocol.
But, of course, she couldn’t question his actions. Not without risking her lips being read. So she stood before him, attempting not to tremble out of her skin as sure fingers drew down her neck to rest lightly on her collarbone. His thumb gently tilted her chin upward, causing her shiver to intensify.
‘How you tremble so, little one,’ Zufar murmured.
She opened her mouth—to say what, she would never know. Because in that moment Zufar closed the gap between them and sealed his lips on hers.
The roar and the call of trumpets were for this staged show, Niesha knew. But every sound intensified the thrill and sizzle in her blood the moment Zufar kissed her. She wasn’t sure why she closed her eyes, but it felt like the right thing to do. Perhaps because she was more than a little drugged from the effect of his mouth on hers.
It was like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life. Heat and magic and earth-shaking desire surged through her body, flowing from his lips right through to her very toes. He swallowed her tiny squeak of shocked delight as he deepened the kiss. His hand didn’t move from her throat but the one at her waist dug deeper, searing his fingers onto her skin. That tiny moan escaped again. The crowd roared louder. All through it Zufar continued to kiss her, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip, weakening her knees so she sagged against him.
He caught her easily, held onto her as he continued to gently ravage her mouth.
‘Enough, you two,’ Galila said with a chuckle. ‘There are children watching. Let’s not turn this into an X-rated show.’
With a muted grunt, Zufar lifted his head. His face reflected a hint of surprise, then irritated bewilderment. Both were quickly masked a moment later.
If it had been anyone else, she would’ve believed he was experiencing the same sensations cascading through her body, but his eyes studied her with piercing speculation that added apprehension to her already jangled emotions.
What was he thinking?
As if he caught the silent question, his hand dropped from her throat, and he faced the crowd. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, as if he was acknowledging that he’d just shared a special moment with every citizen in his kingdom, and millions more around the world. A second later, he looked down at her, his eyes telling her that she needed to also acknowledge the crowd.
Blushing fiercely, Niesha faced the crowd again. In unison, they waved, smiled, waved some more. All the while, her senses spun.
Her first kiss.
Was this how everyone felt? She was drowning in sensation, as if the whole world had tilted and taken a different course that would never be the same again. Because how could anything else compare to this?
She wasn’t a romantic. Childish, fairy-tale feelings had been beaten out of her by years of hard work and the reality that only a lucky few found their happily-ever-after, most of them in the books she treasured. She was old enough to accept that those foolish daydreams needed to be set aside the moment she closed the book.
So what she was experiencing now was nothing short of a daydream she needed to put behind her as soon as possible.
This was temporary. She was a stand-in.
Come tomorrow she’d be back in her beige uniform, fluffing pillows and refilling shampoo bottles in bathrooms in the east wing.
The thought froze the smile on her face, even as she continued to wave to the crowd.
After an excruciating half-hour, with one final wave, Zufar steered her away from the balcony. They re-entered the small anteroom serving as a holding place before, but that was now a path that led to the banqueting hall where the formal wedding reception was being held.
‘You did well,’ Zufar stated as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
Despite the tersely murmured statement, a bubble of warmth speared through the sizzling shock that hadn’t
