Gambling with the Crown. Lynn Raye Harris

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.”