The Royal Elite: Ahsan (Elite, Book 2) Read Free Page A

, and haven't continued to moon over her like some other man I know.”
    Ahsan barked a laugh at the absurd notion that he was mooning over the woman in white.
    Leander interrupted to say, “Besides that, Chey would have Sander's head if he stared at other women.”
    “Chey isn't here,” Ahsan countered.
    “It doesn't matter. She'd find out somehow. Women are uncanny like that,” Leander stated, drawing a collective rumble of amusement from the group.
    “You can't tell me that you're happy with just one woman for the rest of your life.” Ahsan couldn't fathom the thought. He didn't want what his brothers all had either—multiple wives—but he didn't enjoy the idea of 'settling down' with just one woman for all eternity. He loved women too much, liked sampling flavors world wide.
    “It takes the right one,” Sander said. “Look how long it took me to find her.”
    “You were born with that mindset, too. That you would have to take a wife, one wife, and produce heirs to take over the crown. I have no issues of crowns and thrones,” Ahsan pointed out.
    “That may be true, but I didn't buckle under the pressure of finding the one the king and queen thought I should marry. I chose my own, when the time was right. There hasn't been another woman who has tempted me half as much as my own wife. I'm a lucky man.” Sander finished his thought with a satisfied grin.
    Ahsan grunted, dubious that a man could be that content tied down to one woman for life. If he was honest with himself, though, he'd never seen Sander happier. Ahsan had known the king before he'd taken the throne, knew him back when they'd all traveled the world and ladies flocked around the heir in droves. Sander had definitely taken lovers, had his share of women from all corners of the earth. But there hadn't ever been the spark Sander had now, the kind that made the king cut gala parties short to go call his wife or to leave gatherings a day early to fly back to his family.
    “It might not matter either way,” Leander said, once more interrupting. Attention fixated on something across the room, he added, “Looks like the lady will be leaving shortly.”
    The faint frown on Leander's face drew Ahsan's gaze in the same direction. With her elbow caught in her companion's hand, the woman in white appeared to be gently, subtly, trying to get him to let go. It took a keen eye to detect the new tension between the two, and that the lady didn't want to do whatever the man wanted her to. She didn't seem to want another dance, or to leave, or have another drink. Ahsan couldn't be sure what the man's intentions were, but his hackles rose nevertheless.
    Sander rumbled a discontent noise.
    Chayton remained silent but vigilant.
    Mattias said, “It appears she doesn't want whatever he's asking her to do. How far do you think he'll take it?”
    “I don't know, but he's got about ten seconds to let her go or I'm heading over to break that little party up,” Leander said.
    “Why wait that long?” Ahsan cut away from the group of men, bristling under his fine clothing. He cautioned himself not to let his temper get away with him. If there was anything he and his brethren detested, it was men who abused women. None of them would allow this to go on very long, and Ahsan decided to beat them all to the punch.
    Stalking through the crowd, he avoided eye contact with people so he wouldn't be stopped, and only murmured greetings when directly spoken to. He angled his approach to come up on the couple's blind side, eyes narrowing when he saw the man give the woman's elbow an especially urgent tug.
    This would not do. It would not do at all.

Chapter Two
    “Arturo, please. I don't want to go over there yet. Let go of my arm.” Exasperated and annoyed, Sessily tried again to release Arturo's grip on her elbow. His tension had spilled over, his angst at the delay in plans leading him to try and prompt her to action. But she wasn't mentally prepared yet, needed another ten