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There was something in his eyes: not anger – nothing that simple or clumsy. This was something darkly elegant and utterly intoxicating: that thing we’d talked about in the limo. Patient yet expectant. Knowing me better than I knew myself. I could feel the heat rising in me, my insides turning liquid. “Jagor?”
    At his name, there was a flicker: like the old children’s game, I was getting warmer. I suddenly got it.
    “Thank you, Your Highness.”
    His look told me I’d got it right, and that I shouldn’t get it wrong again. That thought sent another wave through me, strong enough that my knees almost buckled.
    He took a few steps back, until he stood at the foot of the bed. I started towards him, but he shook his head. “No. Stand over there.” And he indicated the middle of the room.
    I walked to where he’d pointed, my heels clicking on the hard floor. When I turned, his eyes were already on me. He’d been following my ass across the room.
    “Take off your clothes,” he told me. And he put his hands casually in his pockets to watch.
    I glanced at the wide-open windows. It was mid-morning, warm sunlight bathing the room: there was no hiding place. This wasn’t like in the limo, dim and secret. This was exposed.
    He waited to see if I’d protest.
    I didn’t.
    I’d dressed in a black suit, with a scarlet blouse and black underwear. Now I shucked off the jacket and laid it on a chair.
    Jagor watched, and said nothing.
    I unbuttoned my blouse, elegant little buttons made from what looked like wafer-thin slate. It gaped open, the sunlight streaming through it to paint my breasts and stomach a lurid red. Then I shrugged it off my shoulders and dropped it onto the chair. My heart was beating faster, my eyes locked on his.
    I dropped my hands to the waistband of my skirt and slid the button there free, then unzipped it at the side. Shimmying out of it involved twisting my hips, almost like a dancer, and I could feel his eyes following me as I wriggled, until the tight fabric slid down my legs and I could step out of it. Now I was in just my underwear, hold-ups and heels.
    He let his eyes roam over my body, taking his time. Then he nodded for me to continue.
    I took a deep, shuddering breath. He was going to have me strip naked for him, in front of wide-open windows. I glanced outside. The nearest people, down on the beaches, were some distance away, but if any of them were looking towards the hotel….
    I reached behind me and unhooked my bra; dropped it on the chair. The sunlight was like a caress on my naked breasts: I actually caught my breath as the warm breeze blew across them, unused to being topless in what was essentially the open air.
    My briefs were next, and I pushed the silken fabric down my thighs. I stepped out of them and straightened, one hand protectively over my groin. I was naked now, save for my hold ups and heels.
    He stared at me, glanced down at my covering hand, then back to my face.
    It was a step: he hadn’t seen that part of me, yet. I hesitated for a long moment, breathing faster and faster, staring into his eyes. He looked right back at me: not pushing me, but challenging me.
    I slowly removed the hand, baring myself to him. I stared at him as his gaze raked up and down my body. I didn’t glance down at myself, not once: I watched him watching me, the lust growing on his face. My hands balled into fists, nails digging into my palms, the heat building in me—
    Someone knocked at the door.
    I jumped, and almost fell, unused to the heels. He stepped forward and took one hand in his, steadying me. I was panicking, my mouth moving but not daring to speak, in case the person outside heard us.
    His mouth at my ear. “They won’t enter, until I say so.”
    And, with my naked body less than six feet from the unlocked door, he drew me into a long, deep kiss. One hand found my shoulder; then slid down my back until it rested on my ass. He pulled me into him, his body hard against mine, and