much stronger than my tea. I only caution you to take care with your heart.”
Madison held up her hand as if taking an oath. “I promise you there will be no more kissing, friendly or otherwise. I’m not one to bend the rules, much less break them.”
Elena smiled. “I wish you much luck with that.” She headed for the door and paused with her hand on the knob. “L’amore domina senza regole,” she muttered before she disappeared into the corridor.
Love rules without rules.
Who said anything about love? She wasn’t in love with Zain Mehdi. In lust maybe, but that fell far from love.
Regardless, she didn’t have time to ponder the woman’s warning or the kiss or anything else for that matter. She needed to prepare to see the future king.
After she completed her morning ritual, Madison applied some makeup and twisted and secured her crazy hair at her nape. She dressed in brown slacks and sleeveless beige silk turtleneck that she covered with a taupe jacket, intentionally making certain she bared no skin aside from her hands and face. Wearing gloves and a veil would probably be overkill. She chose to nix the pastry but paused long enough to drink a cup of black lukewarm coffee. Even if she was somewhat hungry, she didn’t dare feed the butterflies flitting around in her belly.
Those butterflies continued to annoy her as she grabbed her briefcase and headed downstairs to the second-floor office. Surprisingly she found the door partially ajar, but no guards and no prince in sight when she entered the vacant study. Only a few seconds passed before Zain emerged from what appeared to be an en suite bathroom.
Aside from one wayward lock of dark hair falling across his forehead, he looked every bit the debonair businessman. He wore a pair of black wool slacks and a white shirt with a gray tie draped loosely around his neck. The light shading of whiskers surrounding his mouth led Madison right down the memory path toward that toe-curling kiss.
She shoved the thoughts away and put on a sunny smile. “Good morning.”
Without returning the greeting, Zain crossed the room to the coat tree to the right of the desk and took a jacket from one hanger. “Did you have breakfast?” he asked.
He was so absolutely gorgeous she’d love to have him for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner… “I didn’t have time. But I did have the most important staple—coffee.”
He turned, slipped the coat on and nailed her with those lethal dark eyes. “I’ll have the chef prepare you something you can eat while you wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“I am about to address my royal subjects.”
Several key concerns tumbled around in Madison’s mind. She’d begin with the first. “Best I recall, you’re not scheduled to do that for another two days.”
He slid the top button closed on his collar. “Apparently the masses did not receive the memo.”
Apparently. “Where is this going to take place?”
He gestured to his right. “Outside on the terrace where my father and my father’s father have always spoken to the people.”
Madison set her briefcase on a chair and immediately walked to the double doors to peek through the heavy red curtains. She saw a substantial stone balcony containing a podium with a skinny microphone as well as several stern—and heavily armed—sentries standing guard. As she peered in the distance, she caught a glimpse of an iron fence, also lined with guards, holding back the milling crowd. And in that crowd stood a few respectable correspondents, along with more than a few pond-scum tabloid reporters.
After dropping the curtain, she faced Zain again. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”
He rounded the desk, leaned back against it and began to work his tie. “I am your new king. Accept it.”
Her mouth dropped open momentarily from shock. “You can’t be serious.”
“It is simple and to the point.” His smile was crooked, and so was his tie.
“Perhaps a little too simple and
Madison held up her hand as if taking an oath. “I promise you there will be no more kissing, friendly or otherwise. I’m not one to bend the rules, much less break them.”
Elena smiled. “I wish you much luck with that.” She headed for the door and paused with her hand on the knob. “L’amore domina senza regole,” she muttered before she disappeared into the corridor.
Love rules without rules.
Who said anything about love? She wasn’t in love with Zain Mehdi. In lust maybe, but that fell far from love.
Regardless, she didn’t have time to ponder the woman’s warning or the kiss or anything else for that matter. She needed to prepare to see the future king.
After she completed her morning ritual, Madison applied some makeup and twisted and secured her crazy hair at her nape. She dressed in brown slacks and sleeveless beige silk turtleneck that she covered with a taupe jacket, intentionally making certain she bared no skin aside from her hands and face. Wearing gloves and a veil would probably be overkill. She chose to nix the pastry but paused long enough to drink a cup of black lukewarm coffee. Even if she was somewhat hungry, she didn’t dare feed the butterflies flitting around in her belly.
Those butterflies continued to annoy her as she grabbed her briefcase and headed downstairs to the second-floor office. Surprisingly she found the door partially ajar, but no guards and no prince in sight when she entered the vacant study. Only a few seconds passed before Zain emerged from what appeared to be an en suite bathroom.
Aside from one wayward lock of dark hair falling across his forehead, he looked every bit the debonair businessman. He wore a pair of black wool slacks and a white shirt with a gray tie draped loosely around his neck. The light shading of whiskers surrounding his mouth led Madison right down the memory path toward that toe-curling kiss.
She shoved the thoughts away and put on a sunny smile. “Good morning.”
Without returning the greeting, Zain crossed the room to the coat tree to the right of the desk and took a jacket from one hanger. “Did you have breakfast?” he asked.
He was so absolutely gorgeous she’d love to have him for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner… “I didn’t have time. But I did have the most important staple—coffee.”
He turned, slipped the coat on and nailed her with those lethal dark eyes. “I’ll have the chef prepare you something you can eat while you wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“I am about to address my royal subjects.”
Several key concerns tumbled around in Madison’s mind. She’d begin with the first. “Best I recall, you’re not scheduled to do that for another two days.”
He slid the top button closed on his collar. “Apparently the masses did not receive the memo.”
Apparently. “Where is this going to take place?”
He gestured to his right. “Outside on the terrace where my father and my father’s father have always spoken to the people.”
Madison set her briefcase on a chair and immediately walked to the double doors to peek through the heavy red curtains. She saw a substantial stone balcony containing a podium with a skinny microphone as well as several stern—and heavily armed—sentries standing guard. As she peered in the distance, she caught a glimpse of an iron fence, also lined with guards, holding back the milling crowd. And in that crowd stood a few respectable correspondents, along with more than a few pond-scum tabloid reporters.
After dropping the curtain, she faced Zain again. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”
He rounded the desk, leaned back against it and began to work his tie. “I am your new king. Accept it.”
Her mouth dropped open momentarily from shock. “You can’t be serious.”
“It is simple and to the point.” His smile was crooked, and so was his tie.
“Perhaps a little too simple and
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