Seduced by the Spare Heir

Gabriel had to admit that was true. There was something about the flush of irritation that made Serafia even that much more beautiful, if it was possible. In his mind, he imagined the same would hold true when she was screaming out in passion, clawing at the sheets. The woman who had sashayed down the runway all those years ago had nothing on the vision in his mind as he thought of her at night.

And he had. Since the night on the patio, he’d lain alone in bed every night thinking about her. He hadn’t intended to. Serafia was a fantasy from his younger years; the image of her in a bikini was the background of his first computer. It had been a long time since he’d had a crush on Serafia, and yet those desires had rushed back at the first sight of her.

It was probably his family-imposed curfew. The day his brother abdicated, he was practically dragged from his penthouse to the family compound. He’d gone weeks with no clubs, no bars, no socializing with friends at parties. His every move was watched and that meant he was on the verge of his longest dry spell since he broke the seal on his manhood.

It didn’t really matter, though, at least where Serafia was concerned. He could’ve bedded a woman this morning and he would still want her the way he always had wanted her.

“Yes,” he admitted at last. “I get pleasure from watching you spin.”

“Why? Are you a sadist?”

Gabriel smiled wide and took a few steps closer to her. “Not at all. It might be cliché to say it, but, Serafia, you are even more beautiful when you’re angry.”

* * *

Serafia rejected the flicker of disbelief in the back of her mind and silenced the denial on her lips. As her therapist had trained her, she identified the negative thoughts and reframed them. She was a healthy, attractive woman. Gabriel found her eye-catching and it wasn’t her place to question his opinion of her. “Thank you,” she said. “But please don’t spend the rest of our time together trying to annoy me. You might find I’m more attractive, but it’s emotionally exhausting.”

Gabriel took another step toward her, closing in on her personal space. With her back pressed against the oak armoire, she had no place to go or escape. A part of her didn’t really want to escape, anyway. Not when he looked at her like that.

His dark green eyes pinned her in place, and her breath froze in her lungs. He wasn’t just trying to flatter her with his words. He did want her. It was very obvious. But it wasn’t going to happen for an abundance of reasons that started with his being the future king and ended with his being a notorious playboy. Even dismissing everything in between, it was a bad idea. Serafia had no interest in kings or playboys.

“Well, I’ll do my best, but I do so enjoy the flush of rose across your cheeks and the sparkle of emotion in your dark eyes. My gaze is drawn to the tension along the line of your graceful neck and the rise and fall of your breasts as you breathe harder.” He took another step closer. Now he could touch her if he chose. “If you don’t want me to make you angry anymore, I could think of another way to get the same reaction that would be more...pleasurable for us both.”

Serafia couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her lips at his bold words. For a moment, she wanted to reach out for him and pull him hard against her. Every nerve in her body was buzzing from his closeness to her. She could feel the heat of his body radiating through the thin silk of her blouse. Her skin flushed and tightened in response.

One palm reached out and made contact with the polished oak at her back. He leaned in and his cologne—one of the few things she hadn’t changed—teased at her nose with sandalwood and leather. The combination was intoxicating and dangerous. She could feel herself slipping into an abyss she had no business in. She needed to stop this before it went too far. Serafia was first and foremost a professional.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she blurted out.

Gabriel’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “Miss Espina, I’m shocked.”

Serafia chuckled softly, the laughter her only release for everything building up inside her. She arched one eyebrow at him. “Shocked that I would be so blunt or shocked that I’m turning you down?”

At that, he smiled and she felt her knees start to soften beneath her. Much more of that and she’d be a puddle in her Manolos.

“Shocked that you would think that was all I wanted from you.”

Serafia crossed her arms over her chest. She barely had room for the movement with Gabriel so close. She needed the barrier. She didn’t believe a word he said. “What exactly were you suggesting, then?”

His jewel-green gaze dropped down to the cleavage her movement had enhanced. She was clutching herself so tightly that she was on the verge of spilling out of her top. She relaxed, removing some, if not all of the distraction.

“I’m feeling a little caged up. I was going to suggest a jog around the compound followed by a dip in the swimming pool,” he said.

“Sure you were,” she replied with a disbelieving tone. “You look like a man who’s hard up for a good run.”

He smiled and she felt a part deep inside her clench with need. Desire had not been very high on Serafia’s priority list for a very long time. She was frustrated at how easily Gabriel could push her body’s needs to the top of the list.

“The king’s health and well-being should be at the forefront of the minds of the Alman people. Long live the king, right?”

“Long live the king,” she responded, albeit unenthusiastically.

“So, how about that run?”

The way he looked at her, the way he leaned into her, it felt as if he was asking for more than just a run. But she answered the question at hand and tried to ignore her body’s response to his query. “First, you need your ceremonial dress tailored. It will take a couple days to get it back and we need it before we leave. Then you can run if you like.”

“And what about you? Don’t you need a little rush of endorphins? A little...release?”

“I exercised when I got up this morning,” she replied. And she had. Every morning when she woke up, she did exactly forty-five minutes on her elliptical machine. No more, no less, doctor’s orders. Her treadmill at home was gathering dust, since running was out of the question unless her life was in danger.

His gaze raked over her, making every inch of her body aware of his heavy appraisal before he made a sucking sound with his tongue and shook his head. “Pity.”

He dropped his arm and took a step back, allowing her lungs to fill with fresh oxygen that wasn’t tainted with his scent. It helped clear her head of the fog that had settled in when he was so close.

The persistent chirp of his cell phone drew his attention away and for that, Serafia was grateful. Apparently Gabriel’s harem of women were lonely without him. Since they’d begun this process four days ago, he averaged a text or two an hour. Most of the time he didn’t respond, but that didn’t stop the messages from coming in. She didn’t care about what he’d been involved in, but she couldn’t help noticing all the different names on the screen.

Carla, Francesca, Kimi, Ronnie, Anita, Lisa, Tammy, Jessica, Emily, Sara...it was as if his phone was spinning through a massive Rolodex of names. His little digital black book would be ungainly if it were in print.

“I’m going to go see if the tailor has arrived,” she said as he put the phone away again. “Do you think you can fight off all your lovers long enough to get this jacket fitted properly?”