‘Yes, sir,’ she said, saluting ironically, but not before she’d absorbed his clean, spicy scent.
She did go to find a table, even though she wasn’t a fan of domineering men. This man had redeemed himself with that curving, dark-eyed smile. She guessed he used it a lot, but this was a packed café, and not much could go wrong over a coffee. It wouldn’t hurt to give him five minutes to see how he turned out. Her chums at the laundry were always complaining that nothing exciting ever happened, so at the least she’d be able to tell them about this when she got back to work.
She’d hidden herself away long enough.
As the unwanted thought shot into her mind, she shivered involuntarily, and recollections of her cruel, abusive stepfather came flooding back. Her mother’s second husband headed up a criminal empire peopled by ruthless thugs. Thank goodness he was in prison where he belonged. Lucy had left home at her mother’s insistence, to escape the increasingly unpleasant attention of her stepfather’s henchmen. She’d been lucky enough to find genuine friends on King’s Dock.
Having paused to acknowledge a couple of friends, she glanced at the man, only to see that he had not only paid for their drinks, but for an elderly couple’s pot of tea. He’d be up a tree, saving a cat next, Lucy thought with a smile as he crossed the café towards her. She had to stop being so suspicious of men. They weren’t all bad.
‘Something wrong?’ her new friend asked, frowning attractively as he drew near.
‘Nothing,’ she said, noticing how much attention he was getting. Both he and her stepfather were big, powerful men, but that was where the similarity ended. Her stepfather was a ruthless bully, and she could see nothing of the snake in this man. If eyes mirrored the soul she was safe; there was no evil in them.
Just heat, Lucy reflected with a bubble of excitement and amusement as he indicated that she should sit down. ‘Or are you going to stand here all day, blocking the aisle?’
When he lifted one sweeping ebony brow like that, and smiled into her eyes, it was impossible not to respond. Her stepfather hadn’t crushed her spirit yet.
‘Are you going to join me?’ she invited once she was settled.
She had to move the table to let him in. He was what might be referred to as a big unit, and she was hardly petite. And though he might be a player, and she his latest target, one cup of coffee did not a drama make. People knew her here, and she could leave any time she liked.
* * *
Today was turning out better than anticipated, Tadj concluded as he studied the lush-figured woman sitting opposite him. She had magnificent breasts, which even her bulky winter clothes couldn’t hide. But it wasn’t his automatic male assessment that struck him most, but her natural poise and unaffected manner. It was such a welcome change from the women who usually flocked around him, hoping for the position of wife, or mistress at the very least.
He’d been walking the dock, filling in time before a party that evening on board his friend Sheikh Khalid’s yacht, the Sapphire. Leaving behind the razzmatazz that went with the title Emir of Qalala, to mix with the crowds on the dock like any other visitor to the high-end marina, was a welcome release from the pressure of celebrity. Spending time with a woman who didn’t appear to recognise him was a novelty. The fact that this woman probably wouldn’t have cared less if she had known who he was was an unexpected bonus. He planned to stay on the Sapphire tonight, and a strange bed was always warmer with an agreeable companion at his side.
Or underneath him.
‘Are you sure this is okay for you?’ she asked, glancing around. ‘You seem to be creating some interest. Should I know you?’
‘You do now. And in answer to your question, this is perfect.’
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ she pointed out.
‘No. I didn’t,’ he agreed.
A tense, electric silence sprang between them. He’d sensed her before he’d spotted her in the café. His senses were always fine-tuned where women were concerned, but she had intrigued him from the first moment, with her elfin looks, and full, voluptuous figure. She wasn’t remotely in awe of him, which only added to her allure. Half his size, she was quite a bit younger, though her character made up for any lack of experience.
‘Good coffee?’ she said, breaking the silence.
‘Excellent,’ he murmured, maintaining eye contact until she blushed.
In the course of his duties as ruler of one of the fabulously wealthy Sapphire States, he met many women, but never remembered them for long. None held such instant appeal. He weighed up her clothes and the body underneath. The cheap, unbuttoned coat was open over a clinging cotton sweater that spurred an urge to introduce her to fabrics that would caress her body. Kissing that challenging look off her face was another must, before bringing her to the heights of pleasure.
‘You really didn’t need to do this,’ she said as he asked the waitress for a top-up.
‘But I really want to,’ he said, holding her stare.
‘Do you always get what you want?’
‘Most times,’ he admitted.
He only had to raise a brow for her to read him easily. ‘Lucy,’ she said. ‘Lucy Gillingham.’
The name meant nothing to him, but he made a mental note to ask his security team to check her out.
‘Careful,’ he said as she dipped her head to take a sip of the refreshed coffee. ‘It’s hot.’
‘I’m always careful,’ she said with a look that left him in no doubt she would never be a pushover.
The most astonishing jade-green eyes pierced his, tilted up at the outer corners. Lucy’s expressive gaze was enhanced by a thick fringe of black lashes that added a feline touch to what was already a highly attractive package.
‘Sorry,’ she said, pulling back, and blushed attractively when their knees brushed.
‘No problem,’ he said, sliding his long legs between hers without touching her, but her blush deepened as if she was deeply conscious of the intimacy forced upon them by the narrow table. Colour tinted her Slavic cheekbones an attractive shade of rose. ‘You have beautiful hair,’ he said to distract her.
‘And you have big feet,’ she said, shuffling around to remove all chance of them touching.
Lucy wore her hair in a no-nonsense short, urchin-cut style. It suited her strong personality. In a rich shade of auburn, it reminded him of autumn on his English country estate when the leaves had turned from vibrant green to take on the tint of fire. She was fiery. She’d be amazing in bed.
‘Oh, that’s better,’ she said, having drained the mug. ‘I’m good for nothing before a coffee. How about you?’
‘I’m good for some things,’ he said.
Her cheeks burned red. He hadn’t enjoyed himself so much in a long time.
How could talking about coffee be so dangerous? Lucy spent a lot of time daydreaming, but none of them turned out like this. If only she’d paid more attention to the press and laundry gossip, she might have a clue who the intriguing man was. ‘You’re new in port,’ she prompted, waiting on more information.
‘Another coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’ As he turned to speak to the waitress, her mind strayed to lazy days on a sugar-sand beach, with blocks of chilled chocolate at her side, and a bucket of lemon sorbet Bellinis to share with the mystery man as a prelude to very good sex, the details of which escaped her for now.
‘Something wrong?’ he queried as she frowned.
‘Yes.