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Hurt and anger lanced Iseult at hearing his bitter words, seeing his undeniable reaction of regret. ‘Well, then, why don’t you just send me home and out of your hair once and for all?’
Iseult made as if to move around him to leave, but Nadim caught her by her bare upper arm. She stopped, still breathing raggedly. She wouldn’t look up into that harsh, beautiful face.
His voice sounded guttural, hoarse. ‘I can’t let you go because to send you away would drive my insanity to another level entirely. You’re in my blood now, Iseult.’
Slowly her head lifted, and she looked up at Nadim and stopped breathing when she saw the heated intensity in his eyes. ‘Wh-what are you talking about?’
He brought her round so she stood in front of him again, and with his free hand tore the turban off his head and threw it into a corner. He suddenly looked much younger, and unbearably rakish. ‘I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.’
Iseult’s legs turned to jelly. She fought not to let herself be swept away by a rising tide of desire. ‘I won’t let you kiss me again just because you feel like it, only to cast me aside as if I’ve done something wrong.’
Nadim moved closer, both hands on her arms now. Iseult was finding it hard to breathe or stay clear-headed. He shook his head, eyes burning down into hers. ‘I’ve tried staying away from you but I can’t any more. It’s making me crazy. I’m not even going to ask how you ended up dancing with Lina. Every time I turn around you’re doing the unexpected… When I saw you appear before me in that excuse of an outfit any control I may have had disappeared… I need to know now—do you want this too?’
Iseult looked up at Nadim. Just inches separated them from bodily contact. Their breaths were already mingling. Her breasts felt full and aching against the tight top, and she had the curious sensation of the real world slipping away. Here in this dim light, in the ornate and luxurious surroundings of Nadim’s tent, they could have been transported back one hundred years in time to another world.
Nadim looked like a warrior king, his jaw tight, the planes of his face austerely gorgeous as he waited to hear her answer. Everything that had happened between them was crytallised in this moment. And Iseult knew what she was going to say with a bone-deep feeling of rightness.
Yes.
It rose from deep within her, with an inexorable flooding of heat into her body. She was no more capable of denying she wanted him, than she was of surviving another second without breathing.
‘Yes…’ she said faintly, huskily. ‘I want this too…’
With a perceptible tremor in his hands that surprised Iseult, and comforted her on some very vulnerable level, Nadim pulled her closer until their bodies were touching. Suddenly Jamilah’s warning words came back to her: The al Saqr men can be ruthless in their pursuit, and equally ruthless when they’re finished with you.
But in that moment Nadim’s head was lowering, that unbearably sensuous mouth was coming closer and closer, and it was very easy for Iseult to block the words out.
When Nadim’s mouth settled over hers it felt as though time had slowed down to a drip-drip of sensual delight. He kissed her with such languorous intent, exploring softly, teasing, tasting, biting down gently on her full lower lip, before coming back to settle over her mouth again with a hint of barely leashed passion.
That tipped Iseult over the precarious edge she’d been clinging onto even unbeknown to herself, and with a faint moan she leant closer into him, her arms climbing up to twine around his neck.
And as if Nadim hadn’t entirely trusted her words, but had been waiting for a tacit signal, he drew her even closer, so that the space now between their beating hearts was non-existent. His tongue made a bold foray into Iseult’s mouth and she welcomed it, welcomed him, her tongue shyly touching and tasting.
Passion quickly blazed up around them. Iseult was barely aware of Nadim flicking away the veil from the back of her head. His hands were on her bare hips, pulling her in even closer, where she was dimly aware of something hard digging into her belly. Belated realisation of what it must be had her pulling back for a moment to look down. Nadim followed her gaze to where his ornate dagger was still tucked into his rope belt.
He quirked a sexy smile. ‘I don’t think we’ll need that.’
Mouth dry, Iseult watched as he pulled it out. About to throw it aside, he seemed to reconsider. He pulled it from its scabard and with one hand turned Iseult so that her back faced him. She shivered slightly, but with anticipation, not fear. She felt him pull her hair aside, so that it hung over one shoulder, and then he pulled the back of her top taut. The cold edge of the blade touched against her skin for the tiniest moment, and then suddenly the tightness of her top was released and air whistled over her naked back.
With a sucked-in breath of shock and excitement Iseult brought her hands to her breasts, holding the top in place. She heard the dull thud of the knife falling somewhere, and then Nadim’s big hands were smoothing the rent sides of the short top apart, and she felt his breath feathering before he started to press kisses from her neck down her spine.
Iseult’s head fell forward, her heart thumping wildly as she felt Nadim’s hands settle on her hips, fingers curving around to her soft belly as his mouth travelled back up to her neck and shoulder, nudging the ripped side of her top down over one shoulder.
She had no experience, but Iseult felt some deeply innate feminine instinct kick in at that moment. So when Nadim turned her around gently to face him again she looked up, straight into his eyes, and fell into two pools of dark sensual promise. Any hint of remaining doubt fled.
Staring deep into her eyes, mesmerising her, he let his hands come to the shoulders of her top and tug softly. Iseult’s hands impeded the process, still welded as they were across her breasts.
‘Trust me…’ Nadim said, and with a slightly choked breath Iseult let her hands drop. The top gaped, and Nadim’s eyes left hers to look down as the stiff silk material was finally pulled away and down her arms, baring her to his hot gaze.
Iseult trembled. Her breasts felt heavy and aching, her nipples tight and hard, prickling with sensation. The ruined top fell to the floor. Iseult saw Nadim’s face flush, his jaw tighten. He reached out a dark hand and cupped the heavy weight of her breast. She had to bite back a moan and couldn’t look down, knowing that she might collapse altogether if she saw the darkness of his skin against the paleness of hers.
‘You’re so beautiful…’ he breathed, and before Iseult’s inner demons had time to rise his thumb had found her nipple and brushed back and forth, teasing it to even further tingling tightness. This time she nearly did fall, and on a reflex put out her hands to his arms in an effort to stay standing.
The movement caused her breast to press into his hand fully, and even holding onto him couldn’t keep Iseult upright any more. In an instant Nadim had bent and lifted her into his arms, and carried her over to a sumptuously clothed bed.
He laid her down as reverentially as if she were made of china and then stood back. All Iseult could do was look up, dry-mouthed, as Nadim started to disrobe. The heavy outer robe fell to the ground, the rope belt came off, and in a split second the dark thobe had disappeared.
Iseult’s gaze fell to take in the magnificence of his broad chest, leanly muscled and olive skinned, two blunt dark nipples standing amongst a fine sprinkling of dark hair.
