forget her conversation with Imaran that day in the breakfast room. Something about it had hit too close to the mark. If Rasyn had the talent of telling her everything she wanted to hear, Imaran had the gift of playing up all her fears. She'd let Rasyn convince her that he loved her, but Imaran had made her doubt everything, made her realize that she didn't know Rasyn very well. Made her wonder why all of this had happened. She caught herself starting to chew on her lip and forced herself to stop.
Mercifully, a knock on the door interrupted her just as she was about to turn into a total nervous wreck.
Her husband slipped inside the apartment.
Rasyn in black tie. The designer suit had been tailored to emphasize the width of his shoulders and slimness of his hips. The white shirt contrasted with the dark olive of his skin. He wore the black jacket unbuttoned, with casual, sexy ease. All the air was sucked out of her lungs. His mere presence chased all thoughts of her conversation with Imaran out of her mind. She almost forgot her renewed resolve to keep him out of her heart.
Almost. But not quite.
Seeming to recognize his effect on her, Rasyn raised a black eyebrow. The corner of his mouth twitched up as he crossed to her with a confident, unhurried stride. Her heart thudded against the bodice of her strapless gown as he placed his hot palms on her hips and pulled her against him.
"When we get back to Abbas, will you wear this dress for me?" His voice was throaty with desire.
With his mouth an inch away and his exotic scent going to her head like fine champagne, it was all she could do to nod.
He put his lips to the pulse behind her ear. "Good," he whispered. "Because I want to see you take it off."
A cough loud enough to echo off the gilded ceiling made Rasyn turn. She looked over his shoulder to see one of the beefy guards stationed outside her room staring them down.
Rasyn rolled his eyes, making her laugh. "Do you think your jailers can be bribed?"
"You could try," she said, and then thought better of it. Making love with Rasyn was incredible enough—adding a sense of danger to the mix might just be more than she could bear.
Then again, it couldn't be long now before he realized his mistake in marrying her. Maybe on their honeymoon? Soon, she'd only have memories of her time here. Of Rasyn's mischievous smile. Of all the pleasure they'd given each other.
She shook off the sad thought.
"Perhaps I will." His promise sent shivers of anticipation over her bare shoulders. "In the meantime, Madam, I will content myself with being your escort for the evening."
With an exaggerated flourish, Rasyn offered her the crook of his arm.
"I thought we couldn’t touch in public."
"In Abbas we cannot. Damali is a more open society. Despite our sinful state—" The emphasis Rasyn put on the word 'sinful' was almost sinful in itself. "—we can show a minimum of affection."
"How much?"
"You can take my arm."
That made her smile. A minimum of affection, for sure.
Rasyn continued in a mock-serious tone. "But there are consequences. You have to understand that doing so means we are committed for life in the eyes of all who see us."
She should refuse. They weren't married here, she reminded herself. There would be dozens of women in the room more suited to him than she was. At that thought, the butterflies started taking bites out of her stomach.
Libby nodded and took his arm.
Chapter Fourteen
Rasyn didn't like being seated so far from his wife. He should be at her left hand, not banished from the head table. Instead, he had to sit with Imaran and the other dignitaries from Abbas.
From the continuing cold reception he got from Prince Hani, he suspected this had something to do with their unorthodox wedding. His Highness had become protective of Libby. Maybe a bit overprotective.
On the other hand, it did give Rasyn a much better view of her as she smiled graciously at her new admirers... the entire kingdom of Damali. Or at least the few hundred of them who had been invited to this event. Princess Sanurah was a popular woman. Now, so was the woman who had saved her life.
With Prince Hani on one side of her and the princess on the other, his Libby faced the endless well-wishers with style and composure. He'd picked out her clothes