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Long, elegant fingers slid into her hair and angled her face up to his determined one. ‘Your equivocation isn’t unwarranted. This will be the first time I too will be mixing business with pleasure,’ he confessed.
The drugging effect of his fingers on her scalp distracted her from his words for several moments. ‘I... What?’ she murmured faintly.
‘That is what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That we risk compromising our professional relationship with a personal one?’ he pressed, even as he stepped closer, brought his hips into singeing contact with hers and trailed his lips across hers once more. ‘But the alternative is to deny ourselves this. And that, habiba, is not going to happen tonight,’ he affirmed with deep, solid conviction.
Her mouth dropped open but coherent words failed to form. He thought she was reticent about sleeping with him because she was his employee!
The mouth hovering tantalisingly close returned to seal over hers, his tongue breaching her lips with renewed sexual resolution that reinvigorated the fire inside her. With a helpless moan she clamped her hands around his shoulders, straining up to receive more of the drugging caress.
She needed to tell him. She would tell him. But not yet. After another kiss. Just in case all this came to an abrupt end the moment he found out she was so inexperienced.
They kissed until their breaths turned ragged, until touching over silk and satin was no longer enough. Until the need to feel skin on skin raged out of control. Somewhere along the line Zaid had shrugged off his robe. Her slippers had fallen off her feet, leaving her bare feet on soft rugs.
It was only when Zaid muttered urgently in Arabic against her lips that she started to heed the screaming voice in her head that told her she was running out of time to tell him. His hands were slowly drawing up her tunic, the soft breeze from a nearby opening sliding seductively over her skin.
She managed to free her tongue from the roof of her mouth. ‘Zaid...’
‘I need to see you,’ he translated thickly. ‘Touch you properly. Taste you.’
His hands brushed the side of her hips as he continued to tug up her dress, murmuring thick, sensual promises against her lips.
Her fingers convulsed against his sleek pectoral muscles as he worked to free her from the tunic. ‘Zaid... I...have to tell you—’
‘Shh, jamila, just give in to the pleasure.’
Before she could push the necessary words out, he was pulling the dress over her head. Her freed hair tumbled over her body in long tresses. He brushed the strands over her shoulders so he could better see her. Then he tossed away the tunic and stood looking at her with eyes that promised unforgettable, incandescent pleasure.
One hand lifted slowly, as if drawing out the pleasure, to trace her collarbone, causing her to gasp as desire arrowed hot and hard through her body.
‘I knew you were beautiful but the reality far surpasses my imagination, habiba,’ he said in a near growl as his fingers drifted over the lace that cupped her breasts.
‘Zaid...’
‘Stay,’ he commanded gruffly, twin slash
es of colour staining his haughty cheekbones as he dropped his hand and strolled lazily, imperiously around her body.
He stopped behind her, his breath catching audibly. A second later a quick tug released the clasp of her bra. He didn’t free her completely from it but, despite her self-consciousness, Esme had never felt so desired, so aware of her body. Her own breath caught as one finger stroked her first vertebra, then followed the line down in a languid caress that had liquid heat pooling at her feminine core. He stopped just above the cleft of her buttocks, his touch lingering as he stepped closer to plant a kiss on one bare shoulder. Then the other. A moment later his fingers were hooking into the sides of her lace panties, tugging them over her hips. They dropped to the floor and she heard his guttural sound of appreciation.
Tell him. Tell him now before it’s too late.
With equal amounts of dread and desire she spun on her heel to face him. The quick movement dislodged the loose bra. In the next instant the scrap of lace fell free from her body to join her panties, leaving her completely naked, bare to his avid gaze. He traced her from head to toe, lingering at the shadowed place between her legs.
‘You are truly exquisite, Esmeralda,’ he praised.
At the sight of the ferocious hunger etched on his face, Esme almost gave up. But she’d made a promise never to lie or mislead.
‘You...you misunderstood me when I said I hadn’t done this before.’
It seemed to take a monumental effort for him to drag his gaze up from her tight-peaked breasts. A slow frown gathered on his dark brow. ‘Then enlighten me, habiba, and do it quickly before my patience runs out,’ he advised, his voice barely above a rough rumble.
‘I mean that I’m...a virgin.’
He grew statue still, his eyes narrowing. Seconds ticked by, then his nostrils pinched on a sharp inhalation. ‘That is impossible. You’re twenty-five years old,’ he said bluntly.
‘I assure you it’s not impossible. I’ve never slept with a man.’
Her statement seemed to trigger an emotion within him. One she breathlessly recognised as shockingly primal, stamped with a possessive fire that grew as he continued to stand there looking at her. But alongside that, as predicted, were questions that stormed through his eyes, even as his gaze rushed feverishly over her body.
