Not a lot, certainly, but more than he was comfortable with. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about her, or about how it felt to lose himself in her body.
He was not the sort of man to become obsessed with a woman, yet she intrigued him. Had from the first moment he’d seen her standing in her shop, all small and blond and seemingly sweet.
But then he’d kissed her and his world had gone sideways. He’d wanted her every moment since.
And he hated that he did.
She was pregnant. Thinking the words sent that same cold chill through him, as always—but there was something else, too. Pride, possession, ownership. She was carrying his child and he was going to marry her. For Kyr.
Rashid got to his feet and left the office, striding through the palace until he came to his rooms. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but the hour was growing late. He changed into jeans—not without thinking of her informing him that she would be wearing her jeans whenever she wanted, that defiant tilt to her chin—and a button-down shirt, and then went through his suite of rooms to the hidden door that connected to the women’s quarters.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the lock. And then he released it and stepped inside. She wasn’t in bed so he moved through the rooms until he saw her at the computer. She was hunched over it, her head in her hands, and his heart squeezed.
Then she reached for a tissue and he knew she was crying. Damn it. His fault, no doubt. Because he’d pushed her away. But how could he explain to her that being in her arms after they had sex felt like a betrayal? Not because of the sex, but because of the way he wanted to linger, the way he wanted to know everything about her.
“Sheridan.”
She startled, shooting up out of her chair and whirling to face him. Her nose was red. “My God, you scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry.”
She was wearing her jeans and a silky shirt and she looked so small and alone as she stood there with her shoulders bent. “How did you get in here?”
“There’s a hidden door in the bedroom. It leads to my rooms.”
“Oh,” she said softly, and he knew she must be wondering why he hadn’t used it to bring her back the other night. But there were more immediate things to think about.
“What is wrong?”
She gave a half shrug. “I was just reading email from my business partner. I think we’re both realizing our dream is over now.”
“I know you blame me for these things, but I am not the one who caused this.” And yet he did feel guilty for his part in changing her life.
“Believe it or not, I do know that. But it seems so odd that a single oversight could impact so many lives.”
“This is quite often the case.”
“For a king, I’m sure it is. For a girl from Savannah who just wanted to give her sister a gift, this is all a bit of a shock.”
She walked over and put her hands on the back of a chair, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles whitened. He watched her, torn between going to her and holding her and staying where he was. In the end, he decided to stay. She would not welcome him at the moment.
She swiped the tissue over her nose again and stuffed it in her pocket. “So what did you come here to tell me to do now?”
Rashid’s brows drew down. Why had he come? Because you can’t stay away. Because she has a brightness to her that draws you like a moth. Because you want to feel that brightness wrapped around you again.
“I didn’t come to tell you to do anything.”
She waved a hand as if she were sweeping aside a bothersome fly. “Well, isn’t that a relief? What can I help you with, then?”
For once in his life, he was left with nothing to say. He dug down into the recesses of his brain. “My brother is going to build a skyscraper for me. I understand you have architecture experience. Perhaps you could consult?”
She blinked at him. Several times. “I...well, I did train as an architect, but I worked on historical preservation. Old buildings. Skyscrapers aren’t quite my thing. Not to mention I left the profession to start Dixie Doin’s with Kelly.”
“Why did you do that?” He truly wanted to know. She’d gone to school for one thing and ended up doing another.
She shrugged. “I enjoyed architecture, but it wasn’t as fun as party planning. I like organizing things, making people happy. Preserving old buildings takes time, but making people happy with food and fun is instant gratification.”
“Which explains why you spend so much time in the kitchen. I enjoyed the lotus-shaped napkins, by the way.”
She smiled at him, a genuine smile for once, and his heart did that little hitch thing again. “I’m glad. I’ll show them ferns next. Then maybe some swans.”
“No swans at the state dinner, I beg you.”
She laughed. “Fine, no swans.” But then her smile faded and she slumped against the back of the chair. “Will I get to attend these functions, or am I to be kept shut away like that cousin you can’t trust not to drink too much and dance on the tables?”
The way she said things amused him. “Do you drink too much or dance on tables?”
“Not since college.” He must have looked surprised because she laughed again. “I’m kidding. I danced on the tables without drinking. Because it was fun sometimes to let loose.”
He tried to imagine her on top of a table, dancing and having fun. “Do you let loose often?”
She hesitated a moment. “Too often where you’re concerned.”
The words hung in the air between them. He could feel his body hardening, and she hadn’t said anything provocative. Or done anything provocative. But he knew how she tasted, how she felt, and he wanted to unwrap her and taste and feel her again.
And again.
“We’ve only been together twice,” he pointed out.
“And if you hadn’t avoided me for so long, I imagine it would have been far more often than that. Though I suppose it’s a very good thing you did.”
Okay, he was seriously hard now. Ready to walk over there and take her in his arms. “You say the most unexpected things.”
“I’m too honest for my own good sometimes. I’ve always been this way, but I like it because it beats keeping things inside.”
“But you do keep some things inside.” He was thinking of her sister and the way she defended the other woman’s weaknesses even when they affected her life. He wondered why she did that, but he supposed he didn’t really have to ask. When he’d been a kid, he’d done everything he could to keep Kadir insulated from their father’s wrath. It hadn’t always worked, but he’d tried.
She bowed her head. “I suppose I
