The Desert Kings. Оливия Гейтс

she sat. He surprised her by lifting her from her chair, taking her seat on the chair and then drawing her down onto his lap.

      “There, that’s better,” he said. “It’s hard to talk about sex across the room from you.”

      Rou stiffened, giving him her profile as she stared uncomfortably across the handsome room. His lap was hard beneath her thighs, and his body’s warmth penetrated the thin, silver organza skirt.

      He laughed softly at her expression. “What’s wrong?”

      “It’s—” she glanced at him from beneath her lashes “—awfully close.”

      She felt rather than heard the laughter rumbling in his chest.

      “It’s going to get closer, laeela,” he answered gravely, and yet she saw the warm gleam in his eyes, that look he gave her when he was fully aware and fully engaged.

      He was enjoying himself. Her heart gave a lurch, and she knotted her hands into fists to try to stop them from shaking. “Perhaps we should just do it quickly,” she suggested breathlessly. “Get it over with so we can get on with the day.”

      She felt the laughter rumble through him again, up through his broad chest and into his eyes and mouth. He was always gorgeous, so beautifully put together, but with the laughter warming his eyes and playing on his lips, he looked like an angel among mortals. How was a woman to resist such a man? Rou couldn’t tear her eyes from his face. It wasn’t fair that any man had such a face. It was a face that left even her weak. Her fingers itched to explore the striking planes and hollows. Those cheekbones, the straight slash of nose, and that mouth of his with the upper lip that curved so wickedly, so sensually promising, promising …

      “Your expression is priceless,” he murmured as she continued her slow study.

      She looked up into his eyes. “Is it?”

      “Mmm. You look as if you can’t decide if you love me or loathe me.”

      Blood rushed to her face. “I can assure you, it’s loathe, Your Highness.”

      He had the gall to laugh.