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‘He accepts the situation. The wedding is off.’
‘Just like that?’
Suleiman’s mouth hardened. What would she say if he told her the truth? That Murat had spoken of her as if she’d been a poisoned chalice he was passing to his former aide. That his punishment was to have her, not to lose her.
He suspected she would never speak to him again. And he wasn’t prepared for that to happen.
Not yet.
‘He has agreed to make way for a diplomatic solution instead.’
‘He has?’ Her eyes were filled with confusion as if she found something about his reaction difficult to understand. ‘But that’s good, isn’t it?’
‘It is an acceptable compromise, considering the circumstances,’ said Suleiman, holding up a jangling set of keys which sparked silver in the bright sunlight. ‘Now let’s go. We’re leaving the horses here and taking one of the Sultan’s cars.’
Sara tried to keep up with his long-legged stride as she followed him into the courtyard, but it wasn’t until they were sitting in the blessed cool of the air-conditioned car that she could pluck up enough courage to ask him.
‘Where are we going?’
He didn’t answer straight away. In fact, he didn’t answer for a good while. Not until they had left the palace far behind them and all that surrounded them was sand and emptiness. Pulling over onto the side of the wide and deserted road, he unfastened his seat belt before leaning over and undoing hers.
‘What...are you doing?’ she asked.
‘I want to kiss you.’
‘Suleiman—’
His mouth was hard and hungry and she could feel his anger coming off him in waves. He slid towards her on the front seat of the luxury car, one hand capturing her breast, while the other began to ruck up the slithery silk of her dress. He stopped kissing her long enough to slide his hand up her bare thigh and stare down at her face.
‘Suleiman,’ she said again—as if saying his name would make some kind of sense of the situation. As if it would remind her that this was dangerous—in so many ways.
‘All I can think of is you,’ he said. ‘All I want is to touch you again. You’re driving me crazy.’
She swallowed as he edged his fingertip inside her panties. ‘This isn’t the answer.’
‘Isn’t it?’
He had reached her core now, touching her exquisitely aroused flesh so that the scent of her sex overrode the subtle perfume of the rose petals in which she’d bathed.
‘No. It’s...oh, Suleiman. That’s not fair.’
‘Who said anything about fairness?’
His finger brushed against the sensitive nub. ‘Oh,’ she breathed. And again. ‘Oh.’
‘Still think this isn’t the answer?’
She shook her head and Suleiman felt an undeniable burst of triumph as she fell back against the leather seat and spread her legs for him. But his mouth was grim as he rubbed his finger against her sex and all kinds of dark emotions stirred within him.
He distracted himself by watching her writhe with pleasure. He watched the flush of colour which spread over her skin like wildfire and felt the change in her body as her back began to arch. Her little cries became louder. Her legs stiffened as they stretched out in front of her and he saw a flash of something—was it anger or regret?—before her eyelids fluttered to a close and she cried out his name, even though he got the idea she was trying very hard not to.
Afterwards she smoothed down her tunic with trembling fingers and turned to him and there was a look on her face he’d never seen before. She looked satiated yes, but determined too—her eyes flashing violet fire as she lifted up his robes.
‘Now what are you doing?’ he questioned.
‘You ask too many questions.’
She freed an erection which was so hard that it hurt—and sucked him until he came in her mouth almost immediately. And he had never felt so powerless in his life. Nor so turned on. Afterwards, he opened his eyes to look at her but she was staring straight ahead, her shoulders stiff with tension and her jaw set.
