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Her pretend smile slipped. Why the hell was she pretending anyway?
‘Yes, to pack,’ she said. ‘You may be a sultan, but at the moment you’re sounding like a spoiled little boy who wants to have his cake and eat it. If you seriously think I’m sharing you with another woman...if you really think I would continue to be your mistress if you married someone else, then I suggest you make an appointment with a psychiatrist at the earliest opportunity.’
She turned and marched out towards the bedroom, clicking on lights as she walked, so that the vast apartment became illuminated with soft pools of golden light. But she was aware that Murat was following her. She could sense his presence behind her, dominating the space around him just as it always did. His words halted her before she’d even had a chance to remember exactly where she’d put the small suitcase, which was the only thing she’d brought with her from Wales.
‘I don’t want you to go,’ he said.
‘I’ll bet you don’t.’
‘You aren’t facing facts, Cat,’ he said. ‘I don’t have a bride. There is no one I’m intending to marry.’
She turned round, surprised by the look of tension which had tightened his features. ‘Not yet.’
‘Not yet,’ he agreed and his voice hardened as he looked at her. ‘And certainly not this weekend.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘That nothing has really changed. We’re talking about the hypothetical. About something which may or may not happen. I don’t want you to leave. But. more importantly, I don’t want you to leave like this. In anger. In the darkness of the night with no real place to go.’ His black gaze burned into her. ‘Isn’t what we’ve shared worth more than that?’
She shook her head. ‘There is no alternative.’
‘Oh, but there is. If I have to lose you, then can’t we at least do it in the spirit of all that has gone before? In passion.’ He swallowed and, unexpectedly, the words seemed to burst from him, like a tide. ‘The greatest passion I have ever known.’
‘No,’ she said, trying to ignore the look in his dark eyes. Trying not to be influenced by the caress of his words or the hateful prickle of her body. ‘Definitely not.’
‘Why not?’
For a moment, she didn’t answer. How could she? It was hard to think about anything other than her own stupidity right then. She felt as if a veil had been lifted and suddenly she saw her life with disturbing clarity.
She realised she hadn’t been as ‘modern’ as she’d thought. She hadn’t just been the Sultan’s ideal mistress because, all the time, it seemed she’d secretly been nurturing impossible dreams about him. Her foolish heart had been captured a man who had promised her nothing. She had fallen in love with someone who had always been off-limits. And if she was feeling pain now, then surely she should blame herself, not Murat.
‘Why not?’ he persisted. ‘Can’t we just have one last weekend together? Two days to say goodbye to each other...properly? Don’t we owe each other that much, Cat?’
She looked at him. At the lips she had kissed a thousand times and the eyes which were blazing with dark fire. Her heart missed a beat. Never again would she see that face alive with passion. Nor feel the warmth of his embrace as he bent his head to kiss her.
Pain flooded through her as she considered her options. She could pack her bag and take a cab to some nearby hotel. Bury her head on some alien pillow and sob her heart out. And then pick herself up and start a new life without him.
But deep down she had no appetite for such drama. Her childhood had been characterised by the slamming of doors and the echo of retreating footsteps, and she had grown to hate such excesses of emotion. She heard one of the clocks chiming out midnight and she thought maybe Murat was right. Maybe ending it like this was all wrong. Shouldn’t the closing stages of their affair be conducted with the same clinical detachment which had always defined it—couldn’t they end it with some degree of civility?
He didn’t know she had fallen in love with him and if she flounced out at this time of night, wouldn’t that only make it obvious? And that was how Murat would remember her. As sad Cat. Heartbroken Cat. As the woman who had laid her feelings on the line, even though she’d known it was hopeless.
Maybe it was time to show him that she wasn’t some hapless victim. That she had enough resolve and experience not to let anything defeat her. She’d grown up fighting against the odds and time after time she’d come through. That was the real Cat.
The question was whether she was strong enough to carry it off.
She stared at him. ‘One weekend,’ she said. ‘No more.’
‘Cat—’
He stepped towards her but she shook her head, halting him with an almost imperious raise of her hand. ‘No, Murat. I’m not in the mood for some passionate make-up sex. Quite frankly, I’m exhausted and I need some space. In fact, I’m going for a long bath and then I’m going straight to sleep. So please don’t bother waiting up for me.’
She walked past him and, although her heart was beating like mad, she felt strangely calm. She had done the unthinkable—she had resisted him. She had agreed to his proposal, yes, but he was about to discover that it was going to be on her terms.
Still revelling in her brief sense of triumph, she saw the unmistakable look of astonishment on his face.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘I THOUGHT I told you not to wait up for me.’
