The Pharaoh’s Favorite novel Chapter 17

Amen stands across from me in the vast bathing pool, water gliding over his bronzed skin, highlighting every ripple of muscle. Droplets cling to the hard planes of his chest, running in lazy streams over his broad shoulders and down his abdomen before disappearing beneath the surface.

He is bare before me. Truly bare.

No robes, no golden adornments, no carefully controlled mask of Pharaoh.

Just Amen. And I cannot breathe.

I know I should avert my gaze, show modesty, pretend as though I am not acutely aware of every flex and movement of his body. But I cannot look away.

His presence fills the chamber, making it feel much smaller than it is. The usual weight of his power is still there—undeniable, suffocating—but it is different now.

This is not the Pharaoh who commands armies, who holds the fate of Egypt in his hands.

This is the man who kissed me beneath the stars, who whispered my name like it was a prayer, who looks at me now like he is ready to devour me.

“You are staring, sweet lotus,” he murmurs, his lips curving in amusement.

My throat tightens. Heat floods my cheeks as I realize how obvious I am being, how I have been caught admiring him like some breathless maiden.

I quickly drop my gaze, but that is a mistake—because now I am looking at the rest of him.

At the water clinging to his powerful thighs.

At the way the dim lighting casts his body in sharp relief, every ridge of muscle accentuated.

I swallow hard and force myself to look away, suddenly self-conscious of my own bare form beneath the water.

“Perhaps,” I manage, my voice unsteady, “but you are hardly innocent of the same crime.”

His slow, wicked smile sends a thrill through me. He does not even pretend to deny it.

“Can you blame me?” he murmurs, stepping closer.

I freeze as he nears, the warm water shifting around us. His gaze trails over my shoulders, my collarbones, the barely hidden curves of my breasts beneath the water’s surface.

“I have dreamed of you like this,” he admits, voice thick with something dark. “And yet reality far surpasses any vision.”

A shiver runs through me, though the bath is warm.

“You speak as if I am something divine,” I whisper.

His eyes burn into mine. “You are.”

I cannot answer. I do not know how to answer.

Amen drew me deeper into the pool, where steam wrapped around us like a veil. I noticed changes in him I hadn’t seen before.

His skin seemed to glow from within, like an alabaster catching moonlight. The muscles of his shoulders and chest appeared stronger, more defined. Even his presence felt different – more intense, more otherworldly.

“Come,” he says softly. “Let me care for you.”

Before I can protest, his hands move with deliberate slowness, reaching for a jar of scented oil resting on the edge of the pool. He scoops a small amount into his palms, warming it between his fingers before bringing them to my shoulder.

I stiffen at the first touch of his hands, but then—gods.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “You’re different tonight.”

“Am I?” His hands settled on my waist, drawing me closer. “Or are you just seeing me clearly for the first time?”

The water made everything feel weightless, dreamlike. His touch anchored me, kept me from floating away into the steam and shadows.

Until I realize—I want him to cross it. I want him to keep going, to never stop.

He knows I do not want to leave.