Royal Temptation. Carol Marinelli

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Royal Temptation - Carol Marinelli


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      ‘Your brother asked me to—’

      ‘You don’t have to keep my promises for me,’ Layla interrupted. ‘I shall be returning to Ishla a virgin.’

      ‘We were talking about a kiss!’

      ‘So what’s the problem, then?’ Layla said.

      She soon found out.

      Mikael turned her around to face him and it was a little like being in the car, with him trying to put on her seatbelt. Every touch had her awareness heightened. She stood shivering in anticipation as he positioned them. She felt his hand on her shoulder and his face move to hers, and then she was lost—because nothing in her imaginings could have prepared her for those arrogant lips turned tender.

      His kiss was very soft at first, and one hand rested on her waist, the other at her shoulder.

      Then she felt the slip of his tongue and the slide of his hand to the back of her head. She had not known that tongues kissed too. It was shocking, it was sensual, it was the gateway to paradise—and her hands went to his hair now as she matched his tongue. And then, whether it was his hand on her bottom or just the call of her groin, they moved in closer and that was the problem—one kiss led to more.

      She could feel him hard at her centre, but more than that she could feel the strain of her breasts and the pull low in her stomach as Mikael kissed her ever deeper and then pulled his head back.

      One kiss and her chin was red and her lips swollen.

      ‘I’d better shave next time,’ he said.

      ‘We agreed one kiss.’ Layla smiled. ‘But now I know why it is trouble…’

      He released her. ‘I’d better go.’

      ‘You need to leave my nightdress,’ she said. ‘Are you working tomorrow?’

      ‘I am,’ he said, ‘but I’ll try and finish early.’ He was worried about her going out without him, but at the same time didn’t want to curtail her. ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’

      ‘I have a very special day planned,’ Layla said as he took off his shirt and handed it to her. ‘I am not getting out of bed.’

      ‘Oh?’ Mikael waited for her to elaborate but she had clearly said all she wanted to on the subject.

      She looked at him, naked from the waist up, and wanted more of what she had so recently felt. ‘Can you kiss me now, so I can feel your skin?’

      ‘Definitely not,’ he said, putting on his jacket and pocketing his tie. ‘Night, Layla.’

      ‘I have another thing on my bucket list now,’ Layla said as he headed for the door. ‘I want to have an orgasm.’

      ‘I’m going home.’

      ‘Seriously, Mikael.’ She saw him to the door. ‘I thought you could only achieve orgasm with sexual intercourse, and even then only if you were lucky. Am I wrong?’

      ‘Very wrong!’ Mikael almost groaned. ‘Goodnight, Layla.’

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      LAYLA AWOKE LONG after sunrise and lay in bed for a happy hour, just remembering Mikael’s kiss and replaying it over and over, before ringing down for breakfast—only to find out that it was lunchtime.

      ‘What would you like, Layla?’ The staff thought she was wonderful, and the head chef was brought to the phone to help her with her order.

      ‘I want someone to come and help me put on the television, and I want a thinly sliced and peeled apple to cleanse my palette, and then something nice to eat.’

      ‘Such as?’

      ‘Sweet,’ Layla said. ‘Some fruit. You choose for me. One other thing—can I get a joint from you?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Okay, just some sweet milk to drink, then.’

      Apart from when she had caught that cold from wearing damp clothes Layla had never spent a day in bed before, and she intended to enjoy it.

      The maids delivered her food and Terrence, the butler, gave her a tutorial on the television’s remote control, and Layla lay in bed, still in Mikael’s shirt, dipping raspberries in white chocolate sauce and drinking milk laced with cinnamon and nutmeg while watching television.

      It was fantastic!

      She watched as the couple on the screen started kissing, and blew out her breath as she remembered her kiss last night with Mikael again.

      She watched, eyes wide, as the man started to take off the woman’s top, and started to blush as he undid her bra.

       Oh!

      Layla knew that she should not be watching this, that she should turn it off, but she could not stop herself. She wanted some lemonade from the fridge. Usually she would use the phone to get Terrence to fetch it for her, but she did not want to be disturbed and so, with her eyes not leaving the screen, for the first time Layla fetched a drink for herself.

      The couple were now on the bed, with a sheet over them, and Layla just about choked on her lemonade at the noises they were making. She reached for the phone—not to call down to the desk, though; instead she called Mikael.

      ‘I can’t speak now, Layla,’ he said. ‘I’m about to have a meeting with my client’s family.’

      ‘Just one question?’ she begged.

      ‘One.’

      ‘I am watching television and I think people are having sex in the middle of the day and they are not married to each other.’

      ‘You’re not watching television, then,’ he said. ‘You’ve put on the adult channel.’

      God, he thought, another thing he’d have to have removed from her bill before her brother saw it.

      ‘Oh!’

      He heard her gasp of disappointment. ‘Now they are putting on the thing where they try to make me thirsty again.’

      ‘That’s a commercial.’ He laughed. Okay, so she wasn’t on the adult channel. ‘Do you know the name of the show that you’re watching?’

      Layla told him.

      ‘That’s what we call a soap,’ Mikael explained. ‘They’re not really having sex—they’re just acting.’

      ‘Well, it’s very good acting,’ Layla said. ‘She looks how I felt when you kissed me last night. Are they dressed beneath the sheet?’

      ‘I would think so.’

      ‘But I saw the top of his bottom.’

      ‘I have to go.’ Mikael hesitated as Wendy buzzed. ‘Hold on a moment, Layla.’

      She would happily hold on, she thought—her show was back on and the couples were lying together and smiling.

      ‘I really do have to go, Layla.’

      ‘Just one more question…’ She didn’t get to ask it.

      ‘Layla, the jury’s returning.’

      ‘So soon? But—’

      Mikael had already hung up.

      He met with his client, who was sweating. ‘It’s not good that they’re back so soon, is it?’

      ‘No,’ he said.

      ‘A little bit of hope would be nice.’

      He did not respond. He had done his very best for the filth that now sat next to him. What hope had he given his victim that night?


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