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And now her mouth had somehow become enticing, with all that hair to frame her face.
He’d known she was not shapeless. Indeed, her suits were well-fitted and crisp, if stark in color—it was only her shoes that were ugly. Sensible shoes, he believed they were called.
She was almost boyish, with narrow shoulders and hips. But she had a waist, and her small breasts were shapelier than he’d realized beneath her suit jackets. That surprised him in ways he hadn’t expected. He knew it now because he’d had a devil of a time keeping his gaze from straying to where they jutted against the thin fabric of her top.
Still, she was Emily, his PA. Not some woman he could take to his bed and discard. He needed her in his life, and at this moment he very much needed her to agree to his plan.
“I don’t know what to say.” The words tumbled out of her in a breathless rush. Her green eyes, usually the color of polished jade, had darkened in what he supposed was confusion. Or horror. There was always that possibility, he decided.
“Say yes.”
She did the one thing he did not expect. She took a step backward, out of his space, and wrapped her arms around her body. The wineglass was still clutched in one hand and tilted precariously to the side.
Her chin dropped and he got the distinct impression she was meditating. When she looked at him again, her gaze was clear.
“Why are you asking me this? Do you need to be married for a business deal? Is there some piece of property you cannot do without and a wife would ease the way with the owner?”
He could only stare at her. She was so close to the truth it astounded him. And yet not quite.
“I need to take a wife home to Kyr.”
Her brows drew down. “I don’t understand.”
He blew out a breath. “It is very complicated. But suffice it to say that a wife is necessary. Think of this as a promotion.”
She blinked. And then she laughed. He was almost insulted.
“This is the strangest promotion I have ever heard of.” She drew in air, straightened her spine. “And it’s impossible, Your Highness. I cannot do what you ask.”
He felt the sting of her rejection as if it were a blow. It stunned him, if he was truthful with himself. Women did not typically refuse him.
“And why is that? This is a job, Emily. The same as always.”
“You will forgive me, Your Highness—”
“Kadir.” He spoke sharply, but he could not seem to help it. For once, he wanted her to call him by his name. For once, he needed to know that he was more to her than a paycheck. It was beyond insane, and yet he’d not felt quite right since he’d spoken with his father earlier.
It was as if everything he’d known had flipped upside down. As if his life had started out one way this morning—a lifetime ago now—and ended up in a completely different place. He was at the bottom of a pit, trying to find a handhold to pull himself back up again before the walls caved in and crushed him.
She swallowed. He didn’t think she would say it, but then she did. “Kadir.” Her voice was so small, so quiet, as if she feared that saying his name would call down a bolt of lightning.
“Was that so difficult then?”
Her eyes glinted in the dimly lit room. “No.”
“Good.” He retreated a few steps, gave her space. He sank onto her couch, ignoring the scattered papers. “Do I pay you well, Emily?”
She moved to one of the chairs set around a small table several feet away and sank down on it as if she feared she would break it. “Yes.”
“Then you can hardly object if I give you an extra year’s salary once you complete the task. All you need do is pretend to be my wife.”
Her eyes were wide. “Pretend? We wouldn’t actually be married?”
“We would, but it won’t be a real marriage. I don’t want you to think I expect anything other than the pretense of devotion.” Because they would need to appear ridiculously besotted with each other for this to work.
She looked doubtful. “Won’t someone figure it out?”
“How? We will act our parts.”
She shook her head. “No one will believe it. Just yesterday, you were with Lenore Bradford. You were probably photographed with her. And now you are marrying me—when, tonight? After you were with Lenore at her party last night?”
He felt the noose tightening around his neck. “I did not say it was a perfect plan. But we will sell it, Emily.” He twisted the stem of the wineglass in his fingers. “Besides, Kyr isn’t precisely connected to the outside world. Not in the way you would think. It is modern, certainly. But gossip and tabloids are hardly my father’s daily reading material. If I arrive with a wife, a wife who I am clearly crazy about, that will suffice for him.”
He could see her throat work. “You want to deceive your family?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
He sighed and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. She would never understand. And yet he had to make her do so if this were to work. It went against his nature to explain himself, but he had to acknowledge that she could just as easily turn him down if he did not. “It’s about the throne, Emily. I don’t want it.”
She blinked. “Why not?”
A riot of emotion twisted through him. He wanted to lash out. To tell her it was none of her business. And yet, if he was asking her to do this thing, it surely was her business. He could tell her the truth without delving into his personal reasons. His guilt. That was private.
“Because a king cannot travel the world and erect buildings. My business will be finished. And you will be out of a job.”
He didn’t like pointing it out so cruelly, but what choice did he have? Because that was, ultimately, what was at stake for her. If he became king, he couldn’t keep her in Kyr. He’d have an entire legion of assistants and she would not be needed. Even if he wanted her there.
There was a hierarchy in serving the royal family in Kyr, and Emily Bryant did not fit into it.
She put her forehead in her palm and slanted her gaze toward him. It was an unconsciously attractive look. A twinge of heat flared to life in his belly. He tamped it down ruthlessly. His life was upside-down, he reminded himself. He was not attracted to his very ordinary assistant. If he had been, he would never have hired her. Besides, if he hadn’t found her sexually appealing in four years thus far, he wasn’t going to start today.
In spite of the awareness that slid through him when she’d put her hand on his arm. In spite of the urge he’d had to bend his head and fit his mouth to hers, just to see if the sparks would continue or if it was simply the incongruity of her touching him so deliberately.
An anomaly. Stress.
“I don’t like the idea of deceiving your family. Besides, I’m a terrible actress. No one would ever believe I was your wife.”
Kadir allowed himself a smile. It was the kind of smile he knew usually had an effect on the women he turned it upon. “I have no doubt they will believe it. You’ve never yet failed at a task I’ve set for you. And you won’t fail at this one.” He leaned forward then, elbows on knees, and delivered what he hoped would be the coup de grâce. “You are the only person I can trust, Emily. The only one who will not fail me. I need you.”
* * *
Emily’s insides were spinning and churning as though she’d taken a ride on a merry-go-round. It didn’t help that Kadir looked at her so seriously. Or that he was specifically asking for her help. How could she refuse him?
And how could she go through with it? No one would ever believe that she—plain, ordinary Emily—was Kadir’s chosen bride. The whole world would see through the deception.
And she’d be mortified when they did. People would laugh and point fingers. She would be noticed, and not in a good way.
It was impossible.
Yet, he looked at her with those gorgeous dark eyes and serious expression and she wanted to do whatever he asked. She closed her eyes, swallowed. It was more than that, though.
One year’s salary.
With that kind of money, she could finish paying her father’s hospital bills and start to put money in the bank for his long-term care. He still lived in the house she’d grown up in, but it was an older house that always needed repairs of one type or another. He tried to do things himself, but it was too much for one frail man.
Anger scoured through her then. Her mother should have been there with him. Would have been there with him if she weren’t selfish and self-serving. If her focus on herself hadn’t led her down a self-destructive path and ended in a twist of steel on a dark highway.
When Emily’s father had needed his wife the most, when he’d gotten too sick to work and couldn’t keep buying her clothes and vacations and cars, she’d said she was too young to be someone’s caretaker. And then she’d run off with another man.
Emily experienced the same cold wash of helpless fury and despair she always did when she thought of her mother. Emily had been heading down the same path, in some ways. She’d loved flashy clothes, loved dressing up and being the center of attention. She’d spent hours at the salon, hours shopping with her girlfriends and hours discussing men. She’d had boyfriends, more than one at a time, because they lavished her with attention and gifts. And that had made her feel special.
But everything changed when her mother deserted them. Emily had realized what a self-destructive road she was traveling when there was no one left to take care of her father except for her. And now Kadir was handing her an opportunity to finally pay off her father’s bills, maybe move him to a retirement community in Florida. He’d always wanted to go to where it was warm. Maybe live in a golfing community and play a few rounds.
If she could do that, it would mean the world to him. And to her, because then she wouldn’t worry so much about him living in the windy, bitterly cold Chicago winters.
“How would this work?” Her voice sounded rusty, as if she hadn’t used it in ages and her vocal cords didn’t want to let the words go.
Kadir sighed and bowed his head for a brief moment. She wanted to tell him that she had not yet agreed, so he shouldn’t get all relieved and everything—but they both knew she was going to. It was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.
No matter how it terrified her.
“My attorneys will draw up the paperwork. We will sign it. That is all that is required in Kyr—a legal marriage document, with both signatures affixed. We can have a ceremony in Kyr, if you like, but the documents will suffice.”
She couldn’t imagine standing at an altar—or wherever one did these things in Kyr—and pledging everlasting love to this man. To her boss.
No matter how fake it would be.
“I don’t need a ceremony.”
He tipped his head, as if he’d known she would say that. “Then there will not be one.”
She clasped her hands in her lap, twisted them together. It was incongruous to be discussing marriage with her boss while in her pajamas in Paris, but that’s precisely what she was doing. How surreal.
“Will there be other paperwork? A prenuptial agreement? A contract detailing the terms of our arrangement?”
“Do you require either of those things?”
She could only blink at him. “It seems prudent, don’t you think? What if I decide I like being a princess so much that I refuse to divorce you and then ask for half your assets when you insist? Or what if you become unhappy with my performance and decide not to pay me?”
He laughed and she let the sound drip down her spine, warming her though she did not want it to.
“You are delightful, Emily. If I don’t tell you that enough, I am remiss.” He got to his feet then and she stood, too, more out of habit than anything. “I will have those documents done as well, if it makes you feel better.”
She sucked in a fortifying breath. “I haven’t said yes yet.”
“But you will.”
Heat rolled through her. She would, but she didn’t like how easily he could read her. Or maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe he just expected her to obey. Because she always had before.
“How can you be so certain? This is far different than ordering me to make phone calls or type up a new proposal.”
He came closer to her and she forced herself to remain where she was. She would not duck away like a frightened kitten. Then he put his warm hands on her shoulders and she felt as if she’d been struck by lightning again.
“I need you, Emily. More than I’ve ever needed you before. And I think you will say yes because you’ve worked for me for four years now and you are good at what you do. You won’t want to walk away when I need you. It’s a challenge, and you like challenges.”
She could only stare up at him, her insides clenching and rolling as his touch made things jump inside her. Things that hadn’t jumped in a good long while.
“I—I have conditions,” she managed.
His brows drew down, but he didn’t look angry. “Conditions?”
She swallowed. It’s for the money. For my dad. “For this to work, you can’t order me to do things. The moment we sign the documents, I am no longer your employee.”
His gaze slipped to her mouth, and she thought her knees might refuse to hold her a moment longer. But then he looked at her again, an expression of curiosity and bemusement on his handsome face. “Do you want to be more, Emily? Oddly, I find I might enjoy such a notion—”
“No.” She cut him off, and immediately wanted to gasp. She had never done such a thing before. He was gazing at her steadily so she hurried on. “Partners. We will be business partners.”
It was the only way she could do this. If she continued to think of herself as his employee, she would never manage the deception. Because she knew what happened when bosses and employees crossed the line. And she was too professional to do so, even if it was only an arrangement. For her own peace of mind, she had to separate those parts of her life.
“Fine.” He didn’t seem angry in the least.
Her heart throbbed painfully at what she was about to say. “Then I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”
Kadir seemed to relax slightly, as if he’d believed for a moment she might actually refuse him. His hands slid almost sensuously down her arms, left a trail of flame in their wake. Her skin prickled and tingled. She wanted to shrug away, to get out of his grasp—and she wanted to move closer at the same time.
“There are only two things left to do in order to seal this deal.” His voice was like silk and she shivered in response.
His hands dropped away then, but before she could breathe a sigh of relief, he reached up to cup her neck. Then he drew her forward as her heart hammered. Her feet moved as if he was the one in control of them rather than her.
“Wh-what?” She cursed herself for sounding nervous—but he was touching her, and apparently that made her light-headed.
“First I have to fire you,” he murmured, his gaze focusing on her mouth as she came in contact with the broad wall of his chest. Her hands went up automatically, rested on the soft cotton of his shirt. He was hard and warm beneath the fabric. She knew he went to the gym, and she knew what his body looked like beneath the cotton. Firm, tanned, beautiful.
No, she told herself. You don’t care. You haven’t cared in four years.
She had to focus, had to concentrate on what he was saying rather than on what he was doing. She could not lose her perspective here. “What’s the other thing?”
His eyes glittered and one corner of his mouth lifted in what could only be termed a self-satisfied smile. “I have to kiss you, Emily.”
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