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“Hi … Look, I’ve just got back from work.” She indicated her uniform of trousers, shirt and flat shoes. “I need to shower and change. Today was busy, and then there was a problem with the tube line, and—” She stopped abruptly. She was babbling. As if he cared about the vagaries of public transport.
Kaden took a step inside her door before she knew what was happening, dwarfing her small hallway, and said easily, “We’re in no rush. You get ready; I’ll wait down here.”
Julia gulped, and her hand went nervously to her throat again. But of course the necklace wasn’t there. Every morning she had to consciously remember not to put it on. Self-recrimination at her own weakness made her say curtly, “I won’t be long. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen if you want to help yourself.”
And with that she fled upstairs and locked herself into her en suite bedroom. Lord, she was in trouble.
Kaden prowled through the hallway. From what he could see it was a classic two-up-two-down house, with a bright airy kitchen extending at the back, which was obviously a modern addition. He hated this weakness he felt for the woman upstairs. Even now he wanted to follow her into the shower and embed himself in her tight heat.
Last night had been very far removed from the nights he’d shared with other women. He was always quickly sated and eager to see them leave, or leave himself. But it had only been as dawn was breaking and his body was too weak to continue that he’d finally fallen asleep.
When he’d woken a couple of hours later all he’d had to do was look at Julia’s sleeping body to want to wake her and start all over again. Right now he didn’t feel as if an entire month locked in a hotel room would be enough to rid him of this need.
His mind shied away from that realisation, and from more introspection. It was perhaps inevitable that his first lover should make a lasting impression, leave a mark on his soul. The chemistry between them had been intense from the moment they’d met over that fossil at the city dig. Kaden’s mouth twisted. It had been as if he’d been infected with a fever, becoming so obsessed with Julia and having her that he hadn’t been able to see anything else.
He hadn’t even noticed his own father’s growing frailty. Nor even listened to his father’s pleas until they’d been uttered with his last breath.
With a curse he turned away from the view of the tiny but perfect garden. What was he doing here, in this small suburban house? His movements jerky, he found a cup and poured himself a strong black coffee, as if that might untangle the knots in his head and belly.
He wandered through to the bright and minimalist sitting-room. He wondered, with an acidic taste in his mouth, if this had been the marital home. He couldn’t see any wedding photos anywhere, but stopped dead when he saw the panoramic photo hanging above the fireplace, his insides freezing in shock.
It was a familiar view—one of his favourites. A picture taken in the Burquati desert, with the stunning snow-capped Nazish mountain range in the distance. He had a vivid memory of the day Julia had taken this picture. His arms had been tight around her waist and she’d complained throatily, “I can’t keep the camera steady if you hang onto me like you’re drowning!”
And he’d said into her ear, overcome with emotion, “I’m drowning, all right. In love with you.”
The shutter had clicked at that moment, and then she’d turned in his arms and—
“I’m sorry—I tried to be as quick as I could.”
Kaden’s hand gripped the coffee mug so tightly he had to consciously relax for fear of breaking it into pieces. He schooled his features so they were a bland mask which reflected nothing of his inner reaction to the memory sparked by the picture.
He turned around. Julia was wearing a dark grey silky dress that dipped down at the front to reveal her delicate collarbone and clung to the soft swells of her breasts, dropping in soft, unstructured folds to her knee. Her legs were bare and pale, and she wore high-heeled wedges. He dragged his eyes up to hers. She’d tied her hair back into a ponytail and it made her look ridiculously innocent and young.
Julia’s body was reacting with irritating predictability to Kaden’s searing look. When she’d walked in she’d noted with dismay that he’d spotted the photograph. It was one of her favourite possessions. Her husband John had used to complain about it, having taken an instant dislike to it, and she’d hidden it away during their marriage. It was almost as if he’d intuited that she’d lost her heart in that very desert. At that very moment.
Kaden indicated behind him now, without taking his dark eyes off hers. “The frame suits the photo. It turned out well.”
She fixed a bright smile on her face, resolutely blocking out the memory of that day. “Yes, it did. I’m ready to go.”
Kaden looked at her for a long moment and then threw back the rest of his coffee. He went into the kitchen, where he put the cup in the sink, rinsed it, and then came into the hall. Julia already had the door open, and allowed Kaden to precede her out so she could lock up.
Like the previous night, she asked him, once in the back of the car, “Where are we going?”
“I thought we’d go to my apartment this evening. I’ve arranged for a Burquati chef to cook dinner. I thought you might appreciate being reminded of some of our local dishes.”
Sounding a little strangled, Julia answered, “That sounds nice.”
And it was. Julia savoured every morsel of the delicious food. She’d always loved it. Balls of rice mixed with succulent pieces of lamb and fish. Tender chicken breasts marinaded for hours in spices. Fresh vegetables fried in tantalising Burquati oils. And decadent sweet pastries dripping with syrup for dessert, washed down with tart black coffee.
“You haven’t lost your appetite.”
Julia looked across the small intimate table at Kaden. He was lounging back in his chair like a sleek panther, in a dark shirt and black trousers. She felt hot, and her hand went in that telling gesture to her neck again. She dropped it quickly. “No. I’ve never lost my healthy appetite.” She smiled ruefully and the action felt strange. She realized she hadn’t smiled much in the past few days. “That’s why I run six miles about three times a week—to be able to indulge the foodie within me.”
Kaden’s eyes roved over her. “You were definitely a little … plumper before.”
There was a rough quality to his voice that resonated deep inside Julia. She could remember Kaden’s hands squeezing her breasts together, lavishing attention on the voluptuous mounds.
“Puppy fat,” she said, almost desperately.
