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‘T-Tariq! What do you think you’re doing?’
Pushing one hand against the wall right beside her head, he leaned forward and looked deep into her tawny eyes. ‘I’m wondering why you’re trying to give me lessons in protocol I neither want nor need. But mostly I’m wondering whether you’re feeling as frustrated as I am.’
Perhaps if he’d put it any other way than that Isobel might have given his question some consideration—or allowed her feelings to sway her. Because hadn’t she been teetering on a knife-edge of wanting him and yet terrified of letting him know that? Hadn’t it been as much as she could do each morning not to gaze wistfully at the sensual curve of his cynical lips? Not to wish that they were subjecting her to another of those hard and passionate kisses?
But his question had been more mechanical than emotional. No woman wanted to feel like an itch which a man needed to scratch, did she? And hadn’t she told herself over and over again that no matter how much she wanted him no good would come of any kind of liaison? She knew about his track record with women. And only someone who was completely insane would lay herself open to an inevitable hurt like that.
‘We aren’t supposed to be discussing this,’ she said flatly.
‘Aren’t we? Says who?’
‘Said you! And me! That’s what we agreed on back at the cottage. We agreed that it was a mistake. We’re supposed to be carrying on as normal and forgetting it ever happened.’
‘Maybe we are. But the trouble is...’ And now he leaned in a little further towards her, so that he could feel the warm fan of her rapid breathing. ‘The trouble is that I’m finding it difficult to forget it ever happened. In fact, it’s proving impossible. I keep thinking about how it felt to have you in my arms. About how wild your hair looks when you let it down. I keep remembering what it was like to kiss you, and how your breasts felt when I was touching them.’
‘Tariq,’ she whispered, as his words made her body spring into instant life and her mouth dried as she stared into his darkening eyes. ‘You were the one who stopped it. Remember?’
‘And I did that because you’re a virgin!’ he said, letting his hand fall by his side. ‘I decided I had no right to take your innocence from you. That you deserved a man who would cherish you more than I could ever do.’
‘Well, that much hasn’t changed. I haven’t rushed out and leapt into bed with someone else in the meantime. I’m still a virgin, Tariq.’
‘I realise that.’ Their gazes clashed as he fought to do the decent thing. ‘And I still don’t think it’s the right thing to do.’
She bit her lip. Was he playing games with her? ‘So why are we even having this conversation?’
For a moment he clenched his fists savagely by his thighs, telling himself that he had no right to take an innocence which would be better given to another man. A man who would love her and cherish her. Who was capable of giving her the things that every woman wanted.
But the soft, sweet tremble of her lips defeated his best intentions, and a ragged sigh shuddered from between his lips. ‘Because I’m finding resisting you harder than I anticipated.’
She stared into the heated gleam of his black eyes as a blend of frustration and emotion began to bubble up inside her and that sweet, terrible aching started all over again. ‘And what about what I think?’ she questioned quietly. ‘What if I’m finding resisting you harder than I thought?’
Once again he fought with his conscience, but this time it was even more difficult because he realised that Izzy was enchantingly unique. An innocent who was up-front about her needs. A woman who wasn’t playing coy games. The fists at his sides relaxed, and he lifted his hand and began to trace a light line around the butterfly tremble of her lips.
‘You know I can’t offer you anything in the way of commitment? That nothing long-term is going to come out of this? Three weeks is about my limit with any woman—you know that better than anyone, Izzy.’
She heard the stark warning in his words, but she wanted him too much to pay them any attention. And she was wise enough not to question him about why he was so adamant about short-term relationships. Maybe she’d ask him another time...just not now. Now she was fighting for something she wasn’t prepared to give up on.
‘You think that all virgins expect marriage from the first man they sleep with? Er, hello—and welcome to the twenty-first century! Aren’t I allowed to do something just b
ecause I want to—the way you always seem to do? Just for the hell of it?’
Tariq felt his resistance trickling away. Nobody could say he hadn’t tried—but it seemed that Izzy was intent on fighting him every inch of the way. Maybe this was the only solution to the otherwise unendurable prospect of the two of them dancing around each other every day, aching with frustrated need. And wasn’t there something about making love to her which appealed to him on a very fundamental level? Something which he had never done with any other woman...
‘For the hell of it? I think you’re selling yourself short. Why don’t we try a taste of heaven instead?’ he said, and he pulled her into his arms and let his mouth make a slow motion journey to meet hers.
She actually cried out with pleasure as he began to kiss her, the taste and feel of his mouth seeming gloriously familiar. Gripping his shoulders, she dug her fingers into his suit jacket, afraid that her knees might give way if she didn’t have something to cling onto. And as the kiss grew deeper she could feel the hard jut of his hips, which framed the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. Recklessly she pressed her body closer still, making no protest when he began to ruck her skirt up, urging him on with a guttural little sound of hunger which didn’t sound a bit like her.
‘Damn tights,’ he ground out as his fingers met the least erotic piece of clothing ever designed by man. But he could feel the heat searing through them at the apex of her thighs, and the restless circling of her hips as he touched her there.
With practised ease he yanked them down, slithering them over her knees to her ankles. He knelt to slide off first one shoe and then the other—tossing them aside with the tights, so that they lay discarded. And then he rose again to take her in his arms.
Maybe he should have carried her across to one of the plush sofas which comprised the more casual meeting area of his office. Stripped her off slowly and provocatively as she doubtlessly deserved. But for the first time in his life Tariq couldn’t bear the thought of delaying this for a second longer than was necessary. Her wide eyes and quickened breath were doing something inexplicable to him. He felt unaccountably primitive...as if his desire to possess her was urging him along on a dark and unstoppable tide.
He touched her against her panties, heard her make some yelping little sound of pleasure and frustration as he ripped them apart. Then he unzipped himself with a shaking hand, freeing the leaden spring of his erection with a ragged sigh of relief.
She was wet and ready for him, clinging to him eagerly as he thrust into her—hard and deep and without warning. Yet it still came as a shock as he encountered a momentary resistance, and he stilled as he heard her make a little moan of discomfort.
‘Aludra!’ he choked out, stopping inside her to give her the chance to acclimatise herself to these new sensations. Holding her close, he bent his lips to her ear. ‘Did I hurt you, little Izzy?’
