One

      As head administrator of the royal palace in the small, autonomous country of Bajul, Kira Darzin had grown accustomed to being summoned on a moment’s notice by the king. But as she stood in the study’s open doorway, waves of shock washed over her when her gaze came to rest on the undeniably handsome man seated near the desk.

      With his neatly trimmed near-black hair, perfectly tailored steel gray suit, and dark Italian loafers, he could have been any successful billionaire. His masculine hands resting casually on the red brocade chair’s arms, and the slight lift of his chin, gave him the appearance of an average arrogant autocrat. Yet, when Kira zeroed in on Tarek Azzmar’s dark eyes, the power in his intense stare threatened to sweep her away, as it had already done one fateful night not so long ago.

      She saw unmistakable confidence. She sensed deep secrets. She felt the pull of provocative danger. A place she had been before both with him, and with another man from her past. A place she vowed to never revisit.

      She also noticed that his somewhat regal air made it seem as if he was the one holding court in the private office that belonged to Rafiq Mehdi, the official monarch of Bajul, who was oddly absent. However, Mr. Deeb, the king’s personal assistant, stood not far away. When Deeb greeted her, his words sounded tinny to her ears as Tarek rose to his feet, revealing well over six feet of prime male.

      With effort, Kira reclaimed enough calm to pretend she had never associated with the Moroccan mogul beyond a few social gatherings. A bald-faced lie. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Azzmar,” she said through a polite and somewhat forced smile.

      “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Darzin.”

      His emphasis on the word unearthed several images in Kira’s mind. Hot kisses. Naked bodies. One night of unbelievable passion. And six weeks since that experience, not one word from him.

      That sour thought thrust her back to the business at hand. “What might I do for you two gentlemen today?”

      Tarek presented the sexy half smile that had melted her resistance like warm chocolate from the first moment they’d met. “Perhaps Mr. Deeb should explain.”

      The balding, middle-aged assistant stepped forward and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Actually, I am here representing His Excellency. Both he and Mr. Azzmar request your assistance.”

      She saw planning an elite soiree in her future. Lovely. “I’m sorry, but I was on my way out for an appointment when I received the message to stop by here. I didn’t bring the upcoming schedule with me. If you’ll give me a date, I’ll begin planning the event immediately.”

      “This does not involve an event,” Tarek said. “It would require your attention for ten days, perhaps even two weeks.”

      She couldn’t imagine any project that would last so long if