Mila smiled seductively. “Don’t you think the celebration is a little premature? I sure hope all things you do don’t end . . . prematurely.”
Zain loved it. No woman had ever challenged his manhood before. No woman had ever questioned him at all. They would claim to like whatever he liked and want whatever he wanted. But not Mila. She would tell him what she thought. It was just one of the qualities that had him falling in love with her. He couldn’t wait to find out what she liked and didn’t like. What had her moaning his name and what had her screaming it.
“Never for you,” Zain winked as he pulled the cork from the bottle. “Do you have any glasses?”
Mila shook her head. “Sorry. If you can’t tell by the attic room, I got the shaft.”
Zain just shook his head as he wrapped his arm around her. “Let’s curl up on the bed and share the bottle.” He took off his coat and shoes before he climbed onto the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in a V. He patted the bed between his legs and Mila climbed up and sat between them. She leaned her back against his chest and wiggled until she was comfortable. Zain handed her the bottle, and she took a long sip.
“Wow, this is good champagne.” Mila handed him the bottle and relaxed into his embrace.
“So, how was your day?” Zain asked. He enjoyed hearing her talk, and with the way they were sitting, he could even feel her voice when she spoke.
Zain lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink as Mila told him about the chancellor, what she observed, and even what she thought about Zain’s speech.
“What does the chancellor think of the nanotech lab?” Zain asked as he passed her the bottle.
“Sorry, I can’t tell you anything about the chancellor’s opinion’s or plans. I’m sure you understand. You don’t tell me about what’s going on with Rahmi even though I hear some whisperings of a riot.”
Zain hid his surprise. He thought his uncle had covered that story up in the media as well as could be expected, but here was the second person in a matter of an hour to mention hearing about it.
“Then we won’t talk of things of which we cannot speak.” Zain wrapped one arm around her waist and bent his head to her neck. “Words are so overrated when kissing tells so much more about a person, don’t you think?” he whispered against her skin.
Zain slipped his fingers to the front of her shirt and started to unbutton it. As he freed the top buttons, one side of her shirt slid from her shoulder, exposing a perfectly rounded breast. Her nipples were already pebbled with excitement as Zain placed butterfly-light kisses along her shoulder before his lips pressed against the base of her neck in a hot kiss.
Zain’s lips smiled against her skin as he heard her softly moan. Mila tilted her head, giving him easy access to the column of her neck. He parted her shirt and splayed his hand at her waist across her stomach. His fingers felt the curves of her body. Mila wiggled and Zain fought to keep control. His body cried out to strip her naked, but he wanted to take his time. This time it was different. He wanted to enjoy every wiggle of her bottom against his hard erection, every moan his kisses caused, and every curve of her body under his hands.
As he slowly kissed his way up her neck, he trailed his hand from her shoulder to Mila’s bare breast. He brushed the tip of his fingers across the peak of her nipple, causing her to suck in a breath and hold it. When she made a frustrated sound, he moved his hand to cup her breast and placed a light kiss under her ear. “I’ve thought about touching you like this since the first time I saw you. Have you?”
Mila’s head rolled back against his shoulder. He saw her eyes were closed. As he rolled her nipple between his fingers, her breathing quickened. “No. I had restrained myself from even thinking of you like this until the morning you showed me around the farm. I didn’t think I had a right to think of you in this way.”
Mila couldn’t catch her breath. Zain’s hand caressing her breast had turned off her thinking brain. And when he brought his other hand to her other breast, Mila gasped again. Just the thought of him seeing her naked, seeing his hand on her body . . .
“Open your eyes,” he whispered before he sucked gently on her earlobe. She looked down to see Zain’s hands cupping her breasts before one of them slowly moved down her abdomen to dip between her legs. She snapped her eyes shut and simply enjoyed the feeling.
But too soon his hands dropped away. Mila protested and felt him chuckle from behind her. “Don’t worry, love. There’s no way we’re done yet. We’re just beginning.”
Mila turned to look at him, but he scooped her up into his arms before she could see what he meant. When Zain put her down on the bed next to him, he had a look of adoration as he pulled the gaping shirt from her body. His smile had her heart speeding up at the thoughts of what he was going to do next. Zain unbuttoned his shirt as he kept his eyes on hers. In that moment, Mila felt that the questions they had for each other were spoken. Did she want this? Yes. What about tomorrow? And tomorrow, too. And when you leave?
But when his shirt fell to the floor, all logistics and worries of what would happen later were forgotten. Zain was not a soft royal. He was all lean muscle, curving and arching along the ridges of his body. Zain slid from the bed and reached into his pocket. Mila watched as he placed condoms on the small nightstand before moving to unbutton his slacks. Mila drew in her breath and held it as he pushed his pants to the floor. Her eyes shot to his and he must have read the worry in them.
“Zain, wait. I thought I could do this, but I can’t. I . . . feel too much.” Mila fumbled for the right words. She couldn’t tell him she was falling in love with him when so many women before her probably told him the same thing just to get something from him.
Zain was on the bed with her in his arms before she could think of how to phrase it. “I know, love. I know. There’re so many unanswered questions. So many what-ifs. I feel it too. I can’t stop thinking about you. Whenever I have a spare minute, I wonder what you’re doing. If you’re having a good day or not. If I can do anything for you. I want to hear your laugh. I want to see your smile. I want to hear my name on your lips.”
Mila let out a shaking breath. “I want to share everything with you. I thought of you when I heard a funny joke, and I couldn’t wait to tell you. But, no matter how much I want to dream of us, it’s not possible, is it? I mean, for three days, sure. But us, together having a . . .” Mila gulped. “A future,” she whispered against his bare chest. “I’m afraid if I make love to you—and it will be making love—it will be me giving my heart to you and never being able to see you again. How will I deal with that?”
“Because you feel that if we do this, there will never be anyone else you could possibly love,” Zain finished as he cupped her face and forced her to look into his eyes—eyes that reflected her own worries and her own feelings. Zain placed a tender kiss on her cheek. “I knew before coming here tonight what this was.”
“And what’s that?” Mila asked hesitantly.
“That I love you.”
Everything stopped. Mila couldn’t hear the rain. She didn’t see the lightning. She didn’t even breathe. Zain loved her. Her. “But, I’m just . . .”
“You.” Zain kissed her other cheek. “You’re you and you’re perfect.” He kissed her nose. “And I’m completely head over heels in love with you.”
“But you’re you.”
“Does that mean you can’t love me because I’m a prince?”
Mila shook her head, “No, it means you can’t love me because I’m not a princess. I’m just . . .”