Who was she? Those men had obviously been her bodyguards, and I supposed it was possible they'd thought I'd been forcing her, but somehow, I thought there was more to it than that. A rich girl might have bodyguards, but I'd gotten the impression that she was more than just someone with money.
I shook my head as I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Tonight had been one of the strangest nights of my life, and one of the best. Most of the other women I'd slept with since coming to Europe had been enjoyable, but Nami had been different. She had an innocence to her without being naïve. A rare combination. And she'd said she was inexperienced, but her body had definitely known what it was doing.
I hissed as the spray hit my back. I'd forgotten that she'd scratched me. From the feel of it, she'd gotten me pretty good. I smiled to myself as I wondered if her nipple hurt. I almost hoped it did. I actually wanted her to remember me, which was strange because every other woman I'd been with, I'd wanted them to forget as soon as they'd left. Hell, I'd wanted to forget them. I'd enjoyed the sex while we were doing it, but afterwards, I just felt empty, like a part of me was missing and no matter what I did, I couldn't fill it.
Nami, though, I found myself wishing that we could've spent more time together. And not just another go in bed either, which was strange. As good as the sex had been, it would've made complete sense for me to want to take her again, keep her here all night, fucking until neither of us could see straight. That wasn't what I was thinking, however. Well, not the only thing I was thinking.
I actually wanted to spend time with her. Talk to her. Learn what made her tick. Discover what she did for a living or if she was like me, living off of an inheritance. I thought an inheritance, but she'd struck me as the kind of person who didn't spend a lot of time partying. I'd watched her for a bit at the club before I'd approached, deciding if she was the one I wanted to take back to my room. She hadn't exactly looked like she'd been enjoying herself. It was like she was trying to enjoy being there.
As I washed my hair, I wondered what she was rebelling against. Parents? Society? What expectations had driven her to that club? To my bed? I frowned as I realized she might not have come with me because she'd wanted to be with me, but rather because I'd been the one dancing with her when she'd made the decision. I shouldn't have cared. We'd both gotten what we'd wanted: good sex. Okay, great sex. But still, I should've been relieved at the thought of her having only picked me out of convenience rather than actual attraction. I wasn't though. I wanted her to have wanted me. Wanted me as much as I'd wanted her.
And I had wanted her. From the moment I'd seen her, I'd wanted her more than I'd wanted anyone in a long time. Since Piper, as a matter of fact. I reached for my soap and told myself that if I was honest, I'd wanted Nami more than I'd wanted Piper. It had taken a while, but I'd come to see that what Piper had told me before had been true. I'd fallen so hard for her because of what had been going on in my life. I hadn't loved the woman I'd been engaged to and Piper had been there, warm and willing. She'd had a crush on me and we'd both let it convince us that we were supposed to be together. I'd thought I'd loved her, but I knew now that I hadn't. Not really. I'd loved the idea of her, of the freedom she represented.
The other women I'd been with since coming to Europe, they'd all been fun, and while they'd ranged in appearance and had run anywhere from twenty to thirty, they'd all been essentially the same. Sexual, physical beings. Some of them might've been intelligent, but that hadn't been a factor. I'd seen the same expression in all of their eyes. Lust. Whether for money, fame or my body, it didn't matter. They'd just wanted it, wanted me to fuck them, but hadn't wanted to know me. Nami and I hadn't talked much, but it hadn't taken more than a couple seconds with her to know that she was different. Or at least I hoped she was. Hoped that she'd wanted me for me and not for what I could offer her.
I closed my eyes as I stepped under the spray. I needed to stop thinking about her. I was going to Madrid tomorrow morning, leaving France and everything here behind. Besides, she'd said that she had a train to catch in the morning as well. We'd never see each other again.
I dried off as I walked back into the bedroom, tossed the wet towel onto the floor and climbed under the covers. I could smell the two of us on the bedspread and I closed my eyes as my body responded.
As I rolled onto my side, something sharp and hard dug into my ribs. I swore as I sat up, reaching over to turn on the light. There, on the sheets, was a necklace. A thin golden chain with an emerald pendant. I wasn't an expert, but I was willing to bet both metal and jewel were real. An image flashed through my mind. The jewel hanging just above Nami's gorgeous breasts. The necklace must've fallen off when she'd scrambled to cover up when her goons had come in.
I sat there, holding the necklace in my hand and wondered what I should do with it. I had her name, but nothing else to go on, so it wasn't like I could just mail it back to her. I could leave it at the front desk here, but I wasn't sure her bodyguards would be pleased with me for making a public connection between Nami and myself. I knew where she was staying at least. I could go over and give it to the desk clerk there, have him call her room and tell her that someone had found her necklace. A little white lie about where and no one would have to know the truth.
The jewel heated up in my hand, reminding me of the way her skin had heated under my touch, how it had flushed a lovely dusky color. At first, I'd thought she'd just been tan, but when she'd been bare, I'd realized it was just her natural complexion. She was quite the exotic beauty, I thought. The skin and dark hair in stark contrast to her eyes, those bluish-green pools.
I shook my head and flopped onto my back. Damn. Now all I could think about were those eyes, that body. The way she'd looked up at me when I'd been above her, inside her. The tight, wet heat of her molding around me. How our bodies had fit together so perfectly.
“Shit.” I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to think of something else, but it was too late. My cock was getting hard at the memory of her. The way she'd tasted. The expression on her face when she'd come.
“Fuck!” I practically yelled it and had a moment to wonder if the room next to mine could hear me. If they could, they definitely would've heard Nami earlier.
I swore again. The memory of how she'd sounded when she'd come that last time made my stomach tighten almost painfully and my already hard cock throb with need. I could try to ignore it, will it to go away with thoughts of unappealing things. I could go to sleep, forget about Nami and head to Madrid in the morning as I'd planned. Leave the necklace with the desk here and not care about whether or not Nami got it back.
I sighed. I couldn't do it. I couldn't forget about her. I closed my eyes and she was there. Those lips, swollen with rough kisses. That neck I'd wanted to mark. Her breasts, full and perfect. Nipples so responsive to every little touch...
My hand was around my cock before I'd consciously decided to do it. With Nami's necklace in one hand, gem biting into my palm, I began to stroke myself. I thought of her, those silky curls I'd buried my hand in. The thin layer of coarser ones between her legs. Just enough so she wasn't completely bare, but not too much. The way her pussy had clamped down on my fingers when I'd made her come. Her body shuddering against mine when I held her close during her last climax. How it felt to be inside her. Wondering what it would be like to have been bare, skin sliding against skin. Emptying into her, filling her...
I came with a half-groan that was her name, cum spilling over my hand and onto the sheets. I was still breathing heavily as I looked at the necklace again. It was probably a mistake, but the necklace gave me an excuse to do it. After all, I couldn't let her leave without it. It was probably some sort of family heirloom or a gift or something.
My stomach clenched. Maybe a gift from a fiancé. No, I thought, she wouldn't have done that. She wasn't the type of woman who'd cheat. I pushed aside the thought that I'd done just that, slept with a woman when I'd been engaged to someone else. That had been different. A different set of circumstances. Besides, I thought with a wry smile, Nami was a better person than I was.
I clutched the necklace tighter as I rolled onto my side, away from the damp spot. I'd clean up in the morning. Right now, I needed to sleep. I had a busy day ahead of me. It would be a long-shot, but I had to try to find her. After all, she really did need her necklace back. Anything else would just be icing on the cake.
Chapter 8
Nami
I didn't sleep well at all. If I hadn't been dreaming up some way to get out of the whole arranged marriage thing I knew was coming up as soon as I arrived home, I was replaying every scintillating minute with Reed. Needless to say, I was both tired and frustrated when my alarm went off, and that was just the start of my day. Now I was on a train moving across France, headed for a private airport in Italy where a plane waited to take me back to Saja.
I'd tried calling my father as soon as I'd gotten back to the hotel, thinking I could at least talk him out of bringing me home early, but he hadn't taken my calls. The fact that he'd sent them straight to voicemail told me that he was angry with me, angrier than he'd ever been. He'd never refused to speak to me before.
“Not that it matters,” I said out loud. No one else was in the private car so my musings were safe. “What else can he do to me? I already have my degree, so he can no longer hold college over my head. He's already set up my marriage so he can't threaten to marry me off early.”
I was sure that the marriage was one of the things he was worried about. If my behavior caused a scandal, a chance existed that the man or his family would call off the engagement. I couldn't say that the idea didn't have its appeal. The fact still remained that it wouldn't matter if this fiancé bolted or not. My parents would simply turn to their second choice and the wedding would continue as scheduled. Someone was always willing to marry a princess, even if they themselves would never get to rule.
I scowled at my reflection in the window, watching the blur of scenery whipping by. Even though my parents wanted me to obey their rules and be the obedient daughter, they'd also raised me to be strong enough to rule the kingdom after they were gone. Part of that strength included not allowing my husband to override me. It was ironic, I thought, how one of the things they'd instilled in me from birth could be the same thing they were trying to suppress. I supposed their intent was for me to be strong-willed, but not against them. I may have been an adult, but to them I was still a child. I assumed it was the same for a lot of parents, but with mine, the difference was that I couldn't do the usual young adult thing of going off to do my own thing, knowing they might not approve but would accept it as a natural part of growing up. Abandoning my parents' wishes would mean walking away from my people, my country, my duty. I would be giving up a legacy that my family had upheld for generations.
And yet, I wondered if it would be worth it. Being able to choose what I wanted to do, how I wanted to live. My fingers touched my lips. Who I wanted to love.
I didn't love Reed. I wasn't a fairy tale princess, falling in love at first sight, but he intrigued me. Something about him called to me and I wished I had the opportunity to explore it.
I'd had that instant click with Aaron, but it had never been romantic, not even when we'd had sex. Sure, he was hot, but even the physical attraction had been different. With him, it had been more of an appreciation of his physique, an admiration. I could appreciate the muscles and his strong, masculine features. It had been that attraction that had made our sexual encounter pleasant, but we'd only ever connected as friends.
I didn't want to be friends with Reed.
I sighed and rested my forehead against the cool glass of the window. It wasn't like I wanted a relationship with Reed. Or maybe I did. I didn't know. But that was something a normal girl would be able to figure out, right? She would be allowed to take her time to get to know a guy she found attractive and amusing. See if he was the kind of man she wanted to be with. Find out what kind of sexual chemistry there was between them.
I snorted a very unladylike laugh and leaned back in my seat. I already knew the answer to that one. The sexual chemistry between us was explosive to say the least. I shifted in my seat, letting myself enjoy the dull ache between my legs. I'd heard the phrase “ridden hard” used when talking about sex, but I'd never had a clear picture of it until last night. Aaron had been gentle, and my body had responded. Reed had, most definitely, not been gentle and I'd enjoyed it even more.
My cheeks flushed at the memory of how he'd used his teeth on me. The first time, I'd been startled, but the zing of electricity racing through me had been something much different than pain, something more intense than any of Aaron's kisses or touches had been. All I'd known at the time was that I'd wanted more.
Now, I wondered how Reed had known something about me that I hadn't. How had this complete stranger been able to play my body with his fingers and mouth? How had he known that I would beg him to fuck me harder than I would've thought enjoyable? Reed had seemed like a man who had known many women, but Aaron had known both woman and men. Why had Reed been the one to truly show me what sex could be like?
I felt tears pricking at my eyelids and I rubbed my palms against my eyes. Now that I knew, could I be satisfied by anything else? What would I do if my future husband didn't understand me the way that Reed had? Would he allow me to teach him, show him what I liked? But would that reveal my secret? I could explain away certain biological things fairly easily. Saja wasn't so primitive that they would expect a woman's hymen to be intact, especially if that woman had spent a good part of her teenage years taking riding lessons. It would be the sworn statements of my bodyguards, my parents and myself that would be held as testimony to my virginity. But if I showed myself to be knowledgeable of what I liked, would my husband assume I had simply learned while pleasuring myself, or would he suspect the truth?