Prince Hafiz's Only Vice. Susanna Carr
that had made him turn around. Soft and clear like the voice of a well-bred lady, but so rich and velvety that it sparked his wicked imagination.
And when he had seen her, his heart had slammed against his ribs. Lacey was an intriguing mix of contrasts. She had looked like an innocent girl, but her voice held a wealth of experience. Her red hair had flowed past her shoulders like a veil, touching the simple blue evening gown. It should have been a modest dress that covered her from her slender neck to her delicate ankles, yet it had lovingly clung to every curve.
Hafiz had known she was trouble, but that hadn’t stopped him from walking toward the piano as she’d coaxed a longing note from the ivory keys.
She hadn’t seen his approach as she closed her eyes and raised her flushed face to the sky, swept away from the music. And he had allowed her to take him with her.
Hafiz forced himself to the present and away from the untroubled past. His gaze drifted to the voluminous black gown veiling her body from his eyes. For some reason, that irked him. “What are you wearing?”
She opened her eyes and frowned before she placed her hands on her hips. The movement gave him some indication of where the soft swells and curves were underneath her outfit. “I could ask the same about you,” she said as her wide eyes roamed over his appearance. “I have never seen you like this. It’s straight out of Lawrence of Arabia.”
Lacey’s voice was deep and husky as the desire shone in her eyes. When she looked at him like that... His skin flushed and pulled tight. How did this woman make him this hot, this fast, without even touching him?
His body hardened, and he gulped in the hot desert air. He could take Lacey against this hidden corner and capture her cries of ecstasy with his mouth within minutes. All he needed was... Hafiz shook his head slightly. What was he thinking? The last thing he needed was for the sultan to discover he had a mistress living in the shadow of the palace.
“This is a dishdasha,” he explained gruffly as he tried to contain the lust that heated his blood. “I wear it for royal functions. Now explain what you are doing outside alone.”
She held up her plastic bag and lightly jostled the contents. “I went shopping.”
“Shopping,” he repeated dully.
“Yes, I wear this whenever I leave the apartment.” She glided her hand down the black gabardine with the flair of a game show model demonstrating a prize. “I know Rudaynah only asks tourists to dress modestly, but I don’t know if I fall in that category. I’m not quite a tourist, but I’m not quite a resident, am I? I didn’t want to take any chances.”
Hafiz barely heard the question. Whenever she left? She had done this more than once? Routinely? What did she do? Where did she go? And with whom?
It wouldn’t be with a man. He knew he could trust Lacey. She had fallen in love with him that first night and saw no reason to deny it.
But he didn’t like the possibility that she had a life apart from him. He was the center of her world, and he didn’t want that to end. “Whenever you leave?” he asked as his eyebrows dipped into a ferocious frown. “How often do you go out?”
“You don’t need to worry about me.” Lacey’s smile dropped. “Or are you worried that one of your friends or relatives will meet me?”
Hafiz heard the edge in her tone and felt her impatience. He surrendered to the need to touch her and delve his hands into her hair. He needed to feel the connection that sizzled between them.
Hafiz spanned his fingers along the base of her head and tilted her face up. “I thought you spend your days playing your music,” he murmured distractedly.
“And dreaming about you?”
“Of course,” he said with a slanted smile.
Her smooth brow wrinkled as she considered what he said. “I can think of you while I’m shopping. I’m talented that way.”
“No.” His sharp tone stanched any argument. “No more excursions. You don’t know the language or the country.”
“How else am I going to learn if I don’t get out and—”
“You have servants who can shop for you. Yes, yes.” He held his hand up as she tried to interrupt. “You’ve already told me. You’re not comfortable with the idea of someone waiting on you. But they are here to take care of you.”
“You can’t hide me inside all the time,” she insisted as she pressed her hand against his chest. His heart thudded from her touch. “I’m not Rapunzel.”
“I know,” he said resignedly. She often mentioned that European fairy tale. She once told him the basic story line, but someday he needed to read it in case there was more he should know.
Lacey leaned against the wall and sighed. Hafiz flattened his hands next to her head, her sunglasses dangling from his loose grasp. He stared at her mouth, his lips stinging with the need to kiss her.
But this was as close as he would allow himself. If he leaned into her softness, he wouldn’t leave.
The tip of her tongue swept along her bottom lip. “Hafiz, we’re outside,” she reminded him, her voice hitching with scandalized excitement. “You shouldn’t be this close.”
He knew it, but it didn’t stop him. She was his one and only vice, and he was willingly addicted. He had already risked everything to be with her. Each day he made the choice to risk everything for her. But now the choice was taken away from him, and it was all coming to an end.
He bent his head and stopped abruptly. He should pull away. Hafiz remained still as he stared at Lacey’s mouth. Their ragged breathing sounded loud to his ears. One kiss could bring him peace or could set him on fire. One kiss would lead to another.
As if he were in a trance, Hafiz grazed his fingertips against her brow. He caressed her cheek, wishing it were his mouth on her. Hafiz swallowed hard as he remembered how her skin tasted.
He shouldn’t be with her. No, it was more than that. He shouldn’t want to be with her. Lacey Maxwell was forbidden.
Wanting Lacey went against everything he had been taught. He should only find honorable and chaste women from his sultanate attractive. Yet the only woman he noticed was Lacey.
She was bold and beautiful. Instead of hiding her curves, she flaunted her body. She showed no shame in her desire for him. And instead of trying to tame him, Lacey encouraged the wild streak inside him that he had tried so hard to suffocate.
The sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears as he stroked Lacey’s jaw. She tilted her head, exposing her slender throat. He wanted to sweep his fingers along the elegant column and dip his hand beneath the caftan. He wanted to hear her shallow breaths turn into groans and whispers.
But that would be reckless. Hafiz dragged his thumb against her lips. He traced the shape of her mouth over and over until her lips clung to his skin.
Lacey turned her face away. Hafiz gripped her chin and held her still. With a growl of surrender, he bent down to claim her mouth with his.
“Hafiz,” she whispered fiercely. “We will be seen.”
That warning could form ice in his sizzling veins like no other. His chest rose and fell as he reined in runaway needs. With great reluctance, he drew away.
“We should leave before one of the neighbors spots me,” Lacey said shakily as she pulled the scarf over her head.
Disappointment scored his chest as she tucked her glorious hair away. “I don’t like seeing you covered up like this.” He never thought about how he would feel seeing his woman veiled, but it felt intrinsically wrong to conceal Lacey’s captivating beauty and character.
“Believe me, I don’t like wearing it.” She reached for her sunglasses. “It’s like an oven, but it makes me invisible and that’s all that matters.”
He