Six months ago, their marriage ended…He has twelve hours to claim her back!
Odir Farouk is about to become king—but to take his throne, he needs his errant wife by his side! Odir denied his hunger for Eloise, refusing to compromise power for passion. His rejection drove her away. Now Odir has until news of his succession breaks to win back his queen…and pleasure will be his most powerful weapon!
Odir joined in the over-zealous laughter at the undeserving joke told by the French Ambassador. And then, instead of turning away and seeking the solitude he so badly wanted, Odir slipped into the kind of seasoned small talk that he could do in his sleep.
Perhaps in the brief, heady days of his youth he had even done it in his sleep. But that had been before. Before his marriage, before his father’s grief-stricken deterioration had signalled the near absolute destruction of his beloved country, and before this morning. And now, despite all this spectacle, all this civility, the future of Farrehed was hanging by a thread. And the only person who could help him hold on to it was the woman he’d let into his palace to wear his ring.
Behind him Odir felt rather than heard a lull in the conversation and the hairs lifted on his arms. She should never have been able to elicit such a reaction in him. He’d once thought the barriers around his heart strong enough to prevent such a thing. But she had. And she still did. Eloise—his wife, his future Queen—had arrived.
Odir watched her reflection in the glass as she made her way through the throng of people between them. The closer she got, the more eagerly he ate up the defiance that shone from the angle of her shoulders, her determined footsteps.
Good. He wanted the promise of the fight she was offering him. He needed it. He let her get almost within touching distance and then he struck.
Odir wheeled round and imprisoned her within his arms, proceeding to kiss her in a way that he had allowed himself on only a few occasions during their courtship.
He took full advantage of her lips, opened partially in shock, and plunged his tongue into… Into a heaven he’d refused to let himself to remember.
As his lips carved out his domination over her he cursed inwardly. The taste of her tongue was shocking in its sweetness, her soft lips taking in every sweep of his firm command. He had meant the kiss to be retribution. He had not for one minute thought that it would be his own punishment.
His entire body was on fire, and he jerked back away from her before he could get burnt. For just a second the shock that lit her features was echoed in his eyes. Only once had he ever felt this way. On their wedding night… It had been a glimpse into the madness that might consume him whole, might tempt him to turn his back on his country’s needs.
And then he remembered what had happened two months after their wedding night…
Harlequin Junkie 4 * Review