Free Olivia Gates Bestseller Collection 2012 by Olivia Gates Page A

section of the population who cling to it as Castaldini’s original language. To the rest it rusted from misuse like any second language learned in school. I had more incentive to learn it. My maternal grandmother was a full-blooded Moor.”
    “So that’s where the overriding raider in you comes from!”
    He put his glass down, stood, took two steps to her side, and without warning, bent and pulled her up and against him, breast to chest. “This seating arrangement was my worst idea yet.”
    Before she could blink, he urged her over to an ensconced corner of the upper level. He half carried her down onto a red leather couch, missing coming on top of her by an inch.
    She almost reached out and made him obliterate that inch. This train was hitting her. Why not get it over with?
    The knowledge that the impact wouldn’t be the end of the devastation made her freeze as the staff zoomed around them, spreading the square quartz table in front of the couch with hot plates simmering over gentle flames.
    As soon as they disappeared, Leandro picked up a shrimp, bit off a piece and leaned over to put the rest to her lips. She again wondered about the damage potential of nibbling on those fingers along with the offered morsel.
    Holding his eyes, she bit, hard. Into the shrimp. A harsh intake of breath accompanied the blaze in his eyes. He fed her until only his finger remained, probing her moistness with a to-and-fro motion that kept reversing the polarity of the current zapping through her core until she whimpered, glared at him. She was not licking it. Even if her heart might burst from holding back.
    He at last withdrew his hand, slumped back with a shuddering exhalation, threw his head against the couch’s headrest and squeezed his eyes shut. At least she wasn’t the only one having a sensual meltdown. The weapon he was using on her was double-edged.
    He opened his eyes, turned his head to her. She realized she was slumped in the same position. Their breathing synchronized as they pored over each other’s faces as if studying for a drawing-from-memory test. Suddenly he feathered one fingertip over the features he’d examined so thoroughly. “You and Ernesto seem to belong to a secret mutual-admiration society.”
    Her lips twitched with mirth and heartache. “You didn’t take it up with him? Feared a rap on your knuckles, huh? And you’re now trying to get details out of the easier-to-interrogate party?”
    His lips spread to a new level of seduction. “Ernesto does pack one mean knuckle-rap. But where is that party who’s easier to interrogate? You? I’m braving a scratched-out eye here.”
    “So you’d rather lose an eye than get a bruised knuckle. What kind of a businessman are you, anyway?”
    He bit his lip. “What can I say? The…harder it is, the more I like it. Risky confrontations are the only things worth my while.”
    She tsked, ignoring the escalating pounding between her legs. “Not the mentality of a man suitable for any kind of office, let alone that of king. Certainly not ruler of a kingdom that has avoided risks and confrontations throughout its history. The way you make it sound, you’d provoke a war to revel in the ensuing conflict.”
    He ran his finger along her jaw. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. But I’d give my enemies—and my allies—a few scares here, a few sleepless nights there. Keeps them on their toes, makes them more interesting to have in either status.”
    She sighed as she melted further into the couch. And into his power. “And you wonder why you were at such explosive cross-purposes with King Benedetto and the Council? They want everything to be steady, to avoid upheaval at all costs.”
    One eyebrow quirked in challenge. “And ‘all costs’ include freedom of speech and a few human rights here and there, right?”
    She tsked again. “You make it sound like a dictatorship instead of a peaceful kingdom.”
    “Where everyone lives happily ever after? Are you sure