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‘It’s easier than sitting alone with my thoughts at the moment.’ Cressida shrugged.
‘Why do you do that?’ he asked quietly. ‘I offer you a compliment and you shrug it off as though it makes you uncomfortable.’
Cressida fought the urge to squirm in her seat, feeling as though he was doing that thing where he saw right through her. He had always seen her, the real her, so much more than anyone else had. ‘Okay, how about I go back in time thirty seconds and I simply say thank you?’
One corner of his mouth raised slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. ‘What else would you do if you could go back in time, I wonder?’
‘According to my lessons in royal interview tactics, that is the kind of question the Sheikha must never answer.’
‘Never has a question been deflected with more skill.’ Khal half laughed, giving her mock applause. It was strange, laughing with him after the strain of the past few hours, but at the same time it was just really nice too.
‘Why did you come here?’ Cressida asked. ‘I mean, of course you are welcome to come here whenever you like. I just meant tonight in particular. You must have something specific you wanted to talk about.’
‘I did come here to talk further about the plan for the next few days, the strategy to contain the story in the media...’ He met her eyes, uncrossing his legs and sitting forward with his hands on his knees. ‘My team want us to lie low for a couple of days while they assess the situation and make plans with the relevant team in Monteverre. Then we will travel over for our official visit and address the matter.’
Back to Monteverre. To confront the truth. Cressida felt anxiety rise swiftly within her but she pushed it back down.
‘Are you okay? Honestly?’ His eyes held hers as he reached between them to grasp her hands. ‘It is all right to show me your weakness, Cressida. I won’t judge you.’
Cressida felt her heart pump in her chest, hearing the gentle tone of his voice. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I understand if you see me differently now. If you regret our marriage.’
His grip on her hands tightened. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘You seemed angry all evening. Agitated. It’s an entirely valid way to feel, finding out that your wife is even less perfect than she already was.’
‘I do not expect you to be perfect, Cressida. This news has come as a shock but, more than anything, I am angry for you, not towards you,’ he said passionately. ‘And as for regretting our marriage...’ He shook his head.
She inhaled deeply, hardly believing, as a rueful smile crossed his lips.
‘Some of my agitation likely stems from how utterly beautiful you look tonight and how frustrated I am at not being able to touch you. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all evening,’ he said evenly, his gaze locked on hers. ‘It has been a week since I had you in my arms and I still remember every single moment with painful clarity.’
Cressida took a deep breath, the intensity of his gaze on hers making her heart skitter uncomfortably in her chest. She felt restless and yet glued to the spot all at once.
‘We said that we would stick with the original plan. But I think that my plan changed the moment I danced with you in the club in London.’ His voice seemed lower all of a sudden...huskier. ‘I held on to my plan because that’s simply what I do. I keep things under control. But it seems that my control does not exist when it comes to you, Cressida.’
‘What are you saying?’ she asked nervously, not exactly sure what she wanted to hear. She wanted him to want her, but not just as a sexual distraction until they wore each other out or got sick of each other.
‘I’m saying that the tidy little red line that I drew around both of our separate circles has been blurred and broken to a point where they seem to be melding into one, whether we will them to or not. So now it seems we face a choice. We can choose to completely separate our lives in such a way that we are very rarely in each other’s presence at all. Or we can ignore the red lines completely and see what happens.’
‘A world without red lines...’ Cressida said slowly, seeing the tension in his body as he awaited her response. ‘It seems very uncertain for a man who loves certainty.’
‘The only thing that I’m certain about at the moment is that if I don’t have you in my arms in the next five seconds I may very well burst out of my skin or erupt into flames where I sit.’
Cressida smiled, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. ‘Oh, don’t do that. I’ve grown quite attached to this sofa,’ she said, her voice taking on a sultry tone that shocked her.
A slow smile spread across Khal’s lips, ‘Well, it seems your choice has been made.’ He closed the distance between them in record time, his body covering hers at the same moment his lips moulded against her own.
CHAPTER TEN
THE KISS WAS filled with every ounce of tension and frustration that she had felt herself. She had dreamt of his kisses, had tried her hardest to remember
what it felt like to have his lips on hers in case she never felt it again. And yet now that his lips were on hers once more she wondered how she had ever forgotten the feeling. It was so familiar now, like coming home. Dangerously comfortable and yet feverishly exciting all at once.
Cressida felt as though her heart might beat completely out of her chest. What was it about kissing this man that sent every single hormonal impulse in her body into chaos? And not only that, she wanted to say things to him. Do things that made her shocked. She reached out to run her fingers down the bared skin of his chest, spreading his shirt collar wide so that she could touch him just as he had touched her.
Khal’s hands encircled her wrists, moving her backwards until she lay back on the sofa, her nightgown spread wide to expose her partially clothed body. He pressed his mouth to the skin above her navel, moving inch by tantalising inch lower, all the while maintaining eye contact. The heat between her legs heightened to a blazing fire and she could not help but reach her fingers towards him, not sure if she wanted to stop him or tell him to move faster to his destination.
‘What do you want me to do, Cressida...?’ He spoke each syllable with a caress of his lips against her sensitive skin, his large muscular hands gripping her hips.
