Page 23 of The Billionaire's Timed Wife

When I finally dare to meet his eyes, I choke on the intensity of his gaze.

He doesn’t move or say a word, and it takes me a few seconds to realize what he’s waiting for.

In our culture, if a woman doesn’t offer her hand first, a man must never take the initiative.

He could spare me the awkwardness by simply placing his right hand over the left side of his chest, another common greeting, but something tells me the prince is testing me, seeing if I’ll have the courage to touch him.

Normally, I wouldn’t. But right now, I feel challenged.

Trembling, though trying not to show it, I offer my hand. Something flashes in his eyes, though I can’t tell what.

Now he’s the one hesitating, and when I’m about to pull back, his large hand closes over mine.

I can’t stop myself from looking down, fascinated by the contrast between his strength and my fragility.

And the warmth.

Touching Kaled feels like standing under a ray of sunlight, the heat sinking into my skin, burning in my veins.

“Adeela, welcome to Paris,” he says, still not letting go, and I shiver.

“Your Highness, thank you for having me,” I manage, forcing myself to form a coherent sentence.

“We’re not in Rheadur. Here, I’m just Kaled.”

The man is a contradiction. Even as he asks for informality, his words sound like a command.

Neither of us makes a move to let go, and I know I should pull back, but I can’t resist the need to feel him a little longer.

“Say it,” he orders softly.

“I don’t think I should—”

But before I can finish, Jazmina cuts in. “You’ll be staying at his house. There’s no point in being so formal, Adeela.” Then she walks away to speak with the guards about our luggage.

“All right. Thank you for having us, Kaled.”

The tip of his thumb brushes the back of my hand, making me strangely breathless.

“Was that so hard?” he asks before finally releasing me, slowly.

“No.” I take a step back. I feel overwhelmed, my body flooded with sensations I don’t recognize.

I don’t keep looking at him—my courage has limits—but I can still feel his gaze on me.

To my relief, Jazmina returns a moment later.

“Are you taking us to dinner?” she asks bluntly.

“Jazmina, I don’t think your brother has time for that,” I say, mortified. If we were alone, I’d probably step on her foot for putting me in such an awkward spot. Most likely, the prince prefers to dine only with family.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks, stepping aside to let her into the limousine and waiting for me to follow.

He comes in right after me and sits across from us, leaving me no choice but to face him. He’s talking to his sister, but his eyes stay on me.

“It doesn’t matter where,” Jazmina says. “I just want to have some fun. I haven’t left Rheadur in six months.” She pauses dramatically, and not for the first time, I think how she’d make a brilliant actress. “But if we’re going out, we need to stop by a good lingerie store first. In her rush to leave home, Adeela forgot all her underwear.”

“I can’t believe you said in front of your brother that I had no underwear!” I whisper, half horrified, half laughing, because her words actually made the prince look uncomfortable.