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‘Are you intending to become a businesswoman now?’

‘I do have dreams,’ she admitted.

‘Some people—and I am one of them—would call that vision. They would go on to say that certain people are blessed with the determination to make that vision concrete, and that those people make a real difference in the world.’ Picking up the scheme she’d drawn, he added, ‘It seems to me like you’ve taken the first step towards doing that with this plan of yours.’

She reached out to take the drawing from him, but he wouldn’t let it go. ‘First a cake tin,’ he murmured dryly, his green eyes so warm with humour she thought her heart would burst with happiness, ‘and now a kitchen design.’ He smiled the slow, sexy smile she realised in that moment she had been desperately starved of.

‘Perhaps it’s time to inject a little romance into this relationship?’ he suggested darkly.

‘I thought we were going to sit down and talk?’

‘I do have something to tell you,’ he admitted, ‘but it can wait.’

Somehow, Razi’s hand had enclosed hers and the drawings he’d been holding were back on the table.

Am I dreaming? Lucy wondered as he drew her into his arms. Should she pinch herself? ‘Razi…?’ Her eyes searched his. ‘Where do we go from here?’

‘Speaking for myself,’ he said dryly, ‘I’m finding it hard to get past the sight of you in your hard hat—though I’d make a few changes,’ he admitted, his expression growing serious.

‘You would?’ she said anxiously.

‘Yes…’ He touched her arms lightly, which was enough for her body to respond with indecent eagerness to nothing more than the brush of his fingertips. ‘I’d cancel the jeans, and dress you in a pair of very short shorts. The heavy boots could stay—they set off your fabulous legs.’ He shrugged. ‘The clipboard and pen could stay too—though I’d add a pair of really heavy specs so you look incredibly stern and enormously severe.’

‘Razi…I don’t know what to say.’

‘There’s no need to talk at all—unless you have some suggestions of your own to make?’

Chapter Eighteen

‘SUGGESTIONS of my own?’ Thoroughly caught up in Razi’s mood, Lucy forced a frown as she pretended to think about it. ‘I’m happy to leave it all up to you—but just remember one thing.’

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‘Which is?’ Heat radiated from him as he eased onto one hip.

‘You’re mine. And I’ll never let you go.’

His face creased in the familiar grin. ‘It’s about time we agreed on something.’

Passion scorched through her like a lava stream as he dragged her into his arms. ‘Well?’ she managed to fire back as he stared down at her. ‘I need you.’ She writhed against him with frustration to prove how much.

‘You think I don’t know that?’ His laugh was low and husky and amused.

It was Mac’s voice—Razi’s voice—the voice she loved. It was the tone of voice she had missed and adored—the voice of the man she loved.

And the wall—with its lurid depictions of lovemaking in every form—was the best friend she’d ever had, Lucy registered wildly, consumed by savage heat as Razi stripped her naked before proving how fast a desert king could lose his robe.

He had her at the first thrust. He was everything she wanted, and if there was a way for them all to be together, she felt that now they stood a chance of finding it.

Throwing back her head, she urged him on, while Razi loved her with an insatiable hunger that matched her own. He was her man, her mate. She loved him and she would fight for him with everything she’d got. She wailed convulsively as the first climax hit her, but instead of releasing him she dug her fingers into his shoulders and wrapped her legs even more tightly around his waist, daring him to let her go.

‘Let you go?’ Razi’s lips tugged with amusement as he briefly paused. ‘I would sooner join a monastery than consider life without you.’

‘Don’t you dare lie to me,’ she warned him, sinking her teeth into his shoulder, before gasping with surprise and pleasure when he pounded into her again. ‘And don’t you dare stop until I tell you to stop,’ she added fiercely, shrieking with pleasure as he bounced her hips against the wall.

But when she felt the tidal wave of pleasure was close it was time to bring some plans of her own into play. ‘Now slowly,’ she ordered him, relishing every deep, lingering thrust. And when his guard was down in those few last moments before she too would lose control, she took him to the hilt, and, using her muscles, worked him in a way she knew he loved until it was Razi who broke first and she who soothed him down in triumph. ‘You’re mine,’ she told him fiercely as his heartbeat steadied. ‘Mine—and I won’t share you with anyone.’

‘Share me?’ Razi demanded with amusement as he lowered her carefully to the ground. ‘Do you really think there would be anything left by the time you’ve finished with me?’

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