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To Bed a King
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To Bed a King
ISBN # 978-0-85715-279-4
©Copyright Carol Lynne 2010
Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright August 2010
Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way
, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-sizzling.
Bodyguards in Love
TO BED A KING
Carol Lynne
Dedication
For Sidney, the champion of Goodreads. Your reviews are well spoken and heartfelt, and whether or not you enjoyed a story, I can always count on you for an honest opinion. Thank you.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Pontiac
Trans Am: GENERAL MOTORS LLC Footloose: PARAMOUNT PICTURES
Glock: GLOCK GESELLSCHAFT M.B.H. LTD
Chapter One
With the sun slowly dipping into the Arabian Sea, bodyguard Raven Stone watched his young charge play soccer on the palace lawn. He noticed a boy of thirteen or fourteen off to the side, watching from the shadows. The boy’s skin was much lighter than the other children. Raven wondered if that was what kept the boy away?
Raven readjusted the holstered Glock at his side before walking over to have a word with the young teenager. How many times had Raven felt left out as a boy? Although his adoptive parents and siblings always treated him like one of their own, the stark difference in Raven’s skin and hair colour made it impossible to forget he wasn’t a real Stone.
“Would you like to play?” Raven asked the boy.
With his eyes averted, the teenager shook his head. The light brown dreadlocks were another stark difference in his appearance from the other boys. “They won’t let me.”
A wave of indignation fuelled Raven to march onto the makeshift soccer field, disrupting the game. He stood in front of Crown Prince Faris, the twelve-year-old he was hired to protect, and narrowed his eyes.
“That boy over there told me you won’t let him play. Why? Because he’s obviously not a Jurruan? You think just because he looks different he doesn’t deserve to be treated with the same respect you show everyone else?”
Faris glanced over at the boy and shook his head. “That’s Nalu. We don’t let him play because he cheats and spits when he doesn’t get his way.”
Raven glanced back at Nalu. “What if I talk to him about playing nice?”
Faris shrugged his shoulders like any twelve-year-old would. “Suit yourself, but it’ll be his last chance as far as I’m concerned.”
It seemed young Nalu was already labelled a troublemaker. Raven knew what it was like to be fit into an identity at such a young age. “I’ll speak to him.”
Although Raven’s label had changed from wild child to slut as he grew older, the names still hurt and didn’t nearly define who he was as a person. Still, it seemed easier for most people to pigeonhole others into categories.
Before he had a chance to get off the field, Nalu turned and began to walk away. Raven started a slow jog. “Wait up.”
Nalu eventually stopped and turned to face Raven. “I cannot stay. I have work.”
“Work? What kind of work?”
Nalu pointed towards the sea. “A ship is coming. I might be needed to work.”
Raven stared at the luxurious yacht pulling into the harbour. “I’m sure whoever it is already has a full staff onboard.”
Nalu’s big green eyes began to shimmer in the orange glow of the setting sun. “No. They always have something for me to do.”
Before Raven could question Nalu further, the teenager took off towards the harbour at a fast run. Raven watched the retreat until Nalu was out of sight before turning back to the ongoing game.
As he began a survey of the surroundings, Raven couldn’t get the image of Nalu’s watery eyes out of his head. He would have to speak with Ghazi about what kind of work a teenager could pick up on a visiting yacht. His gut told him it wasn’t something Nalu was looking forward to.
* * * *
Freshly showered, Raven finished dressing and surveyed himself in the mirror. Although he thought it was ridiculous to wear a suit to dinner every night, it was a rare occurrence when a client actually requested his presence at the formal dining table.
The black suit, combined with his dark Native American complexion made his white smile even more dazzling. Raven grinned at himself. “You are one good-looking sonofabitch, Raven Stone.”
Raven strode out of the en suite and stopped at the dresser. He extracted the three silver rings he always wore from a shallow dish and placed them comfortably on his fingers, the final ring fitting securely on his right thumb.
After one last adjustment to his expertly knotted necktie, Raven was ready. Every evening Raven dressed to impress, and although he’d attracted the flattering attention of several of the palace staff, he’d yet to gain King Ghazi’s favours. Perhaps he should step up his game?
Descending the staircase, Raven held his head high. He looked like a million bucks and he knew it. He may not be the deadliest agent at Three Partners, but he was certainly the best looking.
Raven knew his charm was legendary around Three Partners. How many men had hired him to follow around their rich wives only to end up fucking Raven on a regular basis? In his opinion, no man was truly straight. A hole was a hole to most of them and given freely and often, Raven seemed to have a knack turning his clients, at least for a while. It was the happily-ever-after he’d never managed to secure.
He had no illusions of finding a soul mate, but it would’ve been nice to have at least one of the men he’d given himself to want more than a couple of months of free fucks. It was hard work, dammit, and why shouldn’t he be appropriately compensated for keeping a man satisfied?
Stepping into the palace dining room, his gaze strayed to Ghazi. Fuck. The man was gorgeous. Ghazi was in mid-conversation with one of his Ministers, allowing Raven an opportunity to study the King.
Even though hidden under the traditional flowing dishdashah, Ghazi’s muscular chest and forearms were quite evident. Yum. Although never picky about body size, Raven admitted to himself he preferred a well-muscled lover.
Laughing, Ghazi tossed his head back and clapped his Minister of Finance on the shoulder. The movement of Ghazi’s shoulder-length black curls swinging with his more than jovial mood mesmerised Raven. God, I want to bury my fingers in those curls.
“Raven, come sit by me,” Faris said from his position at the table.
Ghazi glanced over at Raven and smiled before addr
essing his young nephew. “I have something I wish to speak to Raven about, Faris. I’d prefer he joined me at my end of the table.”
With a dejected expression, Faris crossed his arms and slumped back in his chair. “Very well.”
Ghazi chuckled. “There will be other dinners for you and your bodyguard to gossip at, Faris.”
Raven winked at Faris. “I guess our secret is out.” The two of them did enjoy a good dose of gossip each evening to wrap up their day together.
Ghazi said something else to the Minister before breaking away and taking his position at the head of the table. He gestured to the chair on his right. “Mr. Stone?”
Raven ground his teeth together. He hated being called by his surname and had told Ghazi on several occasions to please refrain from it. However, it would be considered impolite to correct a king in his own palace.
Taking his seat, Raven unfolded his saffron-coloured napkin and placed it on his lap. He caught Ghazi’s continued grin out of the corner of his eye. “What?”
“So polite tonight,” Ghazi remarked.
Raven subtly nodded towards the Minister of Finance and two other men he’d seen come and go from Ghazi’s private office. “You have guests.”
Ghazi nodded. “Aaahh, I see. Yes, we do have guests.” Ghazi leant towards Raven and lowered his voice. “Would you like me to introduce you?”
“Not necessary. Unless, of course, you believe they pose a physical threat to either you or Faris,” Raven answered. Why did he feel he was being teased?
Ghazi’s dark eyes twinkled in apparent amusement. “And if they did? Would you slay our dragons for us, Raven?”
Raven stared into the dark brown pools he knew he could easily get lost in. “You know I would.”
“Do I? You’ve been with me for what, three months? And in all of that time you’ve yet to truly show me what you can do. Perhaps I would feel better if I could witness a physical demonstration of your…skills.”
Was he being flirted with? Raven reached out and lifted his glass of burgundy to his lips. He took a sip before addressing Ghazi’s remark. “Give me the right venue, and I’ll show you anything you wish to see.”
Ghazi’s foot came to rest against Raven’s ankle. “Careful, Raven, or I may just take you up on that offer.”
Raven rested his arms on the edge of the table and leant towards Ghazi, allowing his lips to graze the King’s ear as he spoke. Now the King was entering into Raven’s territory, one he knew like the back of his hand. “The offer has been on the table since the day we met, and you know it.”
Ghazi’s nostrils briefly flared as he pulled back to once again sit straight in his chair. Raven continued to stare at the King, silently daring him to follow through with the challenge.
A throat cleared, breaking the moment between them. Ghazi glanced towards Halim, his personal secretary. “Did you need something, Halim?”
“The chef would like to know if you’re ready to be served, Your Majesty.”
“Yes,” Ghazi answered before once again turning his attention to Raven. “I promised Faris I would take him to the beach tomorrow, and I would like for you to accompany us.”
Raven immediately went on alert. “Your Majesty, I can’t properly protect you at a public beach.”
Faris began to laugh. “The cove is as far from public as you can get. Uncle insists on it. I think he’s afraid of tempting all the men and women with his nudity.”
“Faris! This is not proper conversation for the dinner table,” Ghazi reprimanded his nephew. “Please forgive my nephew,” he said to the Minister of Finance and members of his staff.
For the rest of dinner, Raven couldn’t get the image of the King skinny-dipping out of his head. He found concentrating on the conversation impossible. He ate his meal in silence, well aware of the hard cock pressed against the zipper of his pants. Damn. I wish it was tomorrow already.
* * * *
Ghazi lit a cigar and reached for his nightly glass of cognac. The time between dinner and bed was his favourite of the day. Moving from behind his desk to the comfortable chair in front of the window, Ghazi settled in to watch the moonlight caress the dark water of the sea.
Lifting the cigar to his lips, he inhaled just enough to fill his mouth with smoke, swirling it around to enjoy the taste before exhaling, allowing the smallest amount of smoke to escape through his nostrils. There was nothing like the smell of an expensive cigar. Although he didn’t allow himself to indulge often, Ghazi savoured every puff.
With the election for Jurru’s first ever Prime Minister still a month away, he cherished each uninterrupted moment he was able to steal for himself. Hopefully the two men who had stepped forward to vie for the new position would be able to handle the day to day running of Jurru without his help.
Ghazi had invited Fath, his Minister of Finance, to dinner to try to get a feel for what kind of Prime Minister the man would make. So far, he wasn’t impressed. Although Fath appeared to know his business, Ghazi didn’t find him much of a conversationalist.
The Prime Minister would be required to handle decisions for Jurru. Ghazi had faith in his Minister of Finance’s ability to keep the island financially secure. But the ideal candidate would need charismatic skills when dealing with foreign heads of state. Something Ghazi wasn’t convinced Fath was in possession of.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in,” he said, before taking a sip of his cognac.
The door opened and the handsome bodyguard stepped inside. Ghazi schooled his features immediately. He’d almost allowed Raven to get the better of him at dinner in front of Faris and members of the staff, something which was unimaginable.
“Yes?” he prompted, setting his glass on the small side table.
“Faris has settled in for the night.” Raven shut the door and leaned back against it.
Ghazi’s mouth watered at the picture the stubborn American made. Raven had shed his formal dinner attire in favour of denim and a tight white T-shirt. The thin cotton fabric made it possible for Ghazi to drink in the small, dark brown nipples that graced Raven’s leanly muscled chest.
“Very well,” he managed to say in an even tone.
Raven’s head cocked to the side. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” He finished the question with a teasing grin.
Ghazi smiled. Raven loved to flirt, and he was very good at it, but now was not the time to indulge in the pleasures Raven could no doubt deliver. Perhaps after the election, if Raven was still interested, Ghazi could find the bliss Raven’s body offered.
“No,” he answered. “I hope to leave for the cove mid-morning. Will you be able to drive us or should I arrange for a car?”
“I’ll drive.” Raven’s expression changed to one of confusion but he didn’t voice his questions. He turned and opened the door.
“Raven?” Ghazi called him back.
Raven spun around, hope evident in his eyes. “Yes?”
“Suits will be required for tomorrow. Despite what Faris said, I do not sunbathe nude around my nephew.”
“Damn,” Raven muttered, the corner of his mouth turning up into a rakish grin. “And I thought I’d finally get a glimpse of what I’ve been fantasising about all these weeks.”
In time. Be patient, my little bird. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Raven leaned the side of his head against the door’s edge. “I will eventually break you down. You know that, right?”
“Yes. I’m well aware of the mutual attraction between us, but now is not the time.”
“I won’t give up,” Raven added before leaving the office.
“I know that, too,” Ghazi whispered to the closing door.
* * * *
As soon as they hit the beach, Faris was off towards the calm, sheltered water of the cove. Raven carried the large rugs Ghazi had insisted on bringing. “Would you like these spread out in the sun or shade?”
Ghazi stopped walking and gazed around the area. “I believe t
he sun, at least for now.”
Raven dropped both rugs on the sand. After rolling one out, he stood back and shook his head. “We could always leave this one here and roll the other out under that shaded area over there.”
He almost swallowed his tongue when he glanced over his shoulder at Ghazi, who was in the process of removing his dishdashah. Raven’s mouth watered at the King’s sculpted muscular build. Although he would have preferred Ghazi in nothing at all, the mid-thigh black swim trunks allowed Raven to gaze upon three-quarters of the man’s beautiful body.
“That’s fine,” Ghazi answered, folding his traditional robe and setting it in the sand on top of his shoes.
“Excuse me?”
Ghazi gestured towards the rug still rolled in a neat package. “Put that one in the shade if you’d like.”
With those words spoken, Ghazi pulled a fig out of his small carry bag. He easily tore the fruit into two, somewhat, even pieces. “Would you care for some? They won’t keep in this heat.”
Raven had grown quite fond of the exotic fruit and quickly shed his clothes, keeping his eyes firmly planted on Ghazi. The King’s calm demeanour seemed to falter when Raven stepped out of his jeans to reveal the short, tight, low-rise white trunks he’d put on.
“Are you sure it is a good idea to wear such revealing clothes around my nephew?” Ghazi asked, handing Raven half of the fig.
Raven scraped his teeth across the centre of the sweet fruit. He glanced down and grinned. “My dick’s covered, and I’ve recently waxed. What’s the problem?”
“You’re barely covered and the outline of your…dick is clearly displayed.”
“Perfect. Just the look I was hoping for.” Raven sat on the rug and continued to eat his fig, allowing the juices to freely drip from his chin and down his arm. He glanced up and met Ghazi’s eyes.
Ghazi grinned and shook his head. “I should have listened to Seb when he was here.”