Damn right she would.
Etienne opened the front door and stepped outside and suddenly an entourage of dark-suited bodyguards appeared as if from nowhere. More dark-suited men patrolled the inner fortress wall. More dark-clothed men stood in the shadows of the outer fortress wall. Those ones hadn’t moved at all.
‘Were the security guards here when we arrived?’ Simone asked Rafael as they watched Etienne and his entourage get under way and peel out of the fortress with military precision. She hadn’t noticed any guards roaming the grounds earlier, but there were certainly still plenty in place now that Etienne had gone.
‘Some were,’ murmured Rafael. ‘I spoke to the head of security here earlier. He arranged for more.’
‘Because Etienne was visiting?’
‘Because there’s more to secure now that you’re here.’
Simone instinctively put her hand to her stomach. ‘Is there a threat I should know about?’
‘No. Maracey takes the safety of its royal family very seriously, that’s all,’ he told her. ‘It’s in the princess manual fine print.’
‘What else is in the princess manual fine print?’ asked Simone warily.
‘Security cameras in every room, armoured cars, food tasters…’
‘What?’
Rafael grinned. Simone took one look at him and thumped him on the arm.
‘Okay, I may have been kidding about the food tasters,’ he conceded.
‘You’d better be kidding about the security cameras in every room as well.’
‘How about I just tell you where they aren’t?’
‘How about you just show me where they aren’t?’
Rafael grinned again and lit Simone’s night. No doubt about it, she and the baby had been thrust upon him. But sometimes, with a smile or with a glance, she got the feeling that, thrust upon him or not, Rafael liked having her around.
With a passion.
A woman could build on that. A woman could hope.
‘Rosa’s prepared a bed for Ruby downstairs,’ said Rafael. ‘The head gardener seems quite taken with her. Says he’ll check on her through the night and let her outside when need be.’
‘Let’s hope no one shoots her,’ said Simone with a final glance at the men on the ramparts before stepping back inside.
‘The guards all know she’s here,’ said Rafael. ‘I’m more fearful for the head gardener’s flowers,’ said Rafael. They headed for the master suite in companionable silence. Once there, Simone eyed the ceilings and corners for security cameras.
‘There’s none in here,’ murmured Rafael, watching her from the doorway.
Just as well.
Simone’s belongings had been brought to the suite earlier and packed neatly away. She’d dressed for dinner in here, cluttering up the room as she went. Her handbag on the floor beside a dresser. A scarf flung over the back of a chair. It helped, she thought, that Rafael had not made the room his. It helped that they were both strangers to this space. She slid him a glance.
His stillness telegraphed volumes. He had not moved from his position beside the door, but he watched her every move. Gauging it. Waiting for her next move, if only she dared make it.
‘I watched you tonight,’ she said conversationally.
‘I noticed.’ He didn’t smile, and that was a pity. ‘What was the verdict?’
‘That you would make a good ruler of Maracey one day. Should you choose to be. That we would make a politically powerful combination. Should we choose that path. And that, prince or not, you can still warm me with nothing more than a glance and a smile.’ She reached for her hairpins and began to take down her hair. ‘Should you choose to.’
She slipped off her shoes and slid them beneath the bed. ‘I know I forced my company upon you here in this bedroom. I did it because I wanted to strengthen your position here, not weaken it by appearing to have been thrust upon you. I did it because I realised some time ago that one night in your bed simply wasn’t enough for me. I want more. I want this relationship to be real.’
She looked around the sumptuous bedroom with its fabulous furnishings and the lake-sized bathroom branching off from it with its spectacular sunken spa. ‘Okay, as real as it can be with you deciding whether you want to be a prince of the realm and me wondering what else is in the princess manual fine print that I’m really not ready for.’
‘The security bothers you?’ he asked quietly.
‘A little. It points to a potential lack of privacy that could bother me a lot.’
‘I’ll do everything I can to ensure that the privacy versus protection balance works for you.’
‘For us,’ she corrected gently. ‘And thank you. I do however realise that it’s part of the royal family package and might not be something either of us have a lot of control over. But that’s really not the point I was trying to make.’
‘It’s not?’
‘No. I just got sidetracked by that one for a moment. I’m pretty sure I was trying to make a different point altogether. It was about our expectations of one another here in this bedroom.’
Clarity was a must.
Confidence was vital.
There could be no weakness in her approach to sharing Rafael’s bed. She wanted to. Very much. But he had to want it too. ‘I want to make love with you again, Rafael. I would like it to be an ongoing arrangement. The thing is, my feelings aren’t the only feelings that need to be considered. Yours do too so I’m asking you plainly.’ The last hairpin came out. She placed them on the dresser and shook out her hair. ‘What would you have from me here in this bedroom?’
‘What would you give?’ he asked huskily.
She gave his question the thought it deserved. ‘Anything.’
‘Anything?’ He made the word a caress, full of dark needs and wicked promise.
‘Anything you asked for.’ She knew this man. She knew his soul. Fierce but not cruel. Wild but not destructive. Intensely protective of those few things that he loved beyond measure. She wasn’t one of them, she knew that. But she did not doubt that whatever he demanded of her, he would keep her safe. ‘So ask.’
His eyes grew dark. She was trying to make this simple for him. Whatever he wanted, be it separate sides of the bed or an arrangement with a little more fire to it, all he had to do was ask. She didn’t think asking a man to state what he wanted was too torturous a question.
Then again, this was Rafael.
‘Come here,’ he murmured.
She went to him. Stood in front of him, not touching him, not yet. ‘What else would you have?’
His smile came slow and sure. He liked this game. Damned if he didn’t. ‘Put your hands on me,’ he said next.
‘Where?’
‘Anywhere.’
‘I want them on skin,’ she murmured.
He shed his shirt and stared at her in silent challenge, all washboard hard and hungry male as the balance of power shifted and shifted again.
Choices, choices.
She placed her hand on the plane of his stomach. He shuddered beneath her touch and his eyes grew heavy-lidded.
‘More,’ he murmured.
She put her