And that’s what I want to do. I want her.
Forever.
The realisation doesn’t hit me like a wave, though. Instead, this is a swell, something deep beneath the surface, carrying me. I’ve been a lone island for far too long. I want a partner, someone to ride the ups and downs of life with me, at my side. And I think I’ve finally found her.
I close my eyes and listen to her breathing, utterly at peace.
Zara
I wake slowly, wondering what the weight is on me.
Then I remember. Happiness bursts through me once more. I open my eyes fully, hoping it wasn’t just a particularly detailed dream.
Not a dream.
Myles is lying next to me, his shoulder and one arm resting across me. His face is close to mine, relaxed in sleep. I lightly trace his long nose with my finger, his full bottom lip. His lashes are long and dark, his raven hair tangled. He’s still asleep, his breath deep and even.
I don’t know what happens next, but it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with him. Mind-blowing sex aside– I blush at the memory of him between my legs, his tongue teasing me– I feel safer with him than I ever have with anyone else in my life.
I lie there a little longer, trailing my hand along his lean muscled torso, listening to him breathing. I’m sore in the best possible way, and my body is already waking up, wanting more of him. But the needs of my bladder are becoming even more urgent and, regretfully, I slide out from under his arm, sitting up. He moves, murmuring, his arm reaching across the bed.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper, gazing at him fondly. I pad naked into the bathroom and do what I need to do. The bath is still half-full, rose petals wilting on the tiled floor, the candles in the lanterns burnt out. But if I close my eyes I can still see it as it was, a memory that will never leave me.
I wander into the living area, wondering if Myles and I will have time to make love again before we catch our flight this afternoon. I don’t want to leave this place, I realise. I want to stay here and explore more, go deeper into the medina, visit the other palace, walk in the footsteps of kings and queens and adventurers. I want to spend more nights in Myles’s arms, see how many positions we can try in the tub and elsewhere, kiss in secluded alcoves and dance under desert stars. I hate that we have to go home today.
But at the same time I’m excited, wondering what comes next. He wants to be with me, and I with him. I still can’t quite believe it’s true.
I open the sliding door and step onto the terrace, breathing in the scent of roses and orange blossom and cloves. The market is already humming, people in the streets below. There’s time for sex and to go out for one more walk, I decide, as I peer over the high wall. I realise, when I turn, that there are trays of food still set out next to the table. I giggle. We hadn’t needed dinner last night. The only thing we wanted to devour was each other. He’d woken me with kisses in the early hours, making soft torturous love to me until my whole body hummed with pleasure, moaning my name as he came, throbbing inside me. If I’d said no, if I’d pulled away from him in the palace, I would never have known. I would have gone back to London and resigned, and never seen him again. I can’t imagine the pain of that, now.
My dress is where I left it, draped over a chair, the fabric fluttering slightly in the morning breeze. Myles’s clothes are crumpled on the floor nearby. I pick up my dress, holding the soft fabric to me, swaying as I remember how we danced together, how he touched me through the silk.
Then I hear a woman’s voice coming from inside the suite.
I freeze. Has Myles ordered room service and forgotten? I quickly slip my dress on, fastening the tie at my waist. I run my hands through the tangle of my hair, coiling it into a knot at the nape of my neck.
I go back inside but there’s no one in the living area. I look around, frowning. There’s an unfamiliar scent in the air, though, a trail of expensive perfume. I hear the voice again. My stomach plummets. It’s coming from the bedroom.
Feeling cold all over, I walk towards the archway between the two rooms. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see, but it isn’t this.
Myles, all sleepy eyes, his hair tousled, gazes at me from the bed. A silk robe, pale green, is on the floor next to it. And, in his arms, smirking at me, her body curled possessively around his, is Big Red.
ChapterThirty-Three
Myles
Iwake to hands on me, sliding up and down my cock. It feels rougher than I remember Zara being but I’m into it, if that’s what she wants. Happiness floods through me again at the memory of last night, mingled with desire. I roll over, pulling her against me. Lace scratches my skin, and someone bites my earlobe.
What the hell?
Whoever is in bed with me doesn’t smell right, or feel right. They smell fine, but not like Zara. I open my eyes fully, and realise why the hands on me feel so familiar.
Katya. Fuck.
Somebody gasps. I look over Katya’s shoulder and my heart sinks. Zara is standing in the archway, a stricken expression on her face. Her hair is pulled back, but she’s wearing her dress from last night, and I know she has nothing underneath it. I fight for understanding. Last night I fell asleep with her, yet this morning I woke up with Katya. Was it all a dream?
“What the hell are you doing here?” Katya snarls.
Zara flinches, her eyes filling with tears. It’s as though I’m turned to ice, unable to speak. I still don’t understand what’s happening.
