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Pressing the send button in reply to the text she’d just received from her sister, she walked out onto the terrace, where Murat was busy talking on the phone in the late afternoon sunshine. His Qurhahian aide Bakri often phoned at this time and the two men usually engaged in long talks about state affairs, which completely engrossed him. But today he looked up as he heard her approach and she read the slow smoulder of approval in his eyes.
Her heart lurched. The last day of their last weekend. Two days during which all the normal rules of their relationship seemed to have changed.
Or maybe it was simply her attitude which had changed. She had shown him a stronger Cat. A more decisive Cat. And in response, Murat had become more of an equal and less of a master.
He’d grown more tactile in ways which didn’t just involve sex. He held her in his arms when he was watching a football game. He had even cooked her lunch, while she sat on one of the window seats quietly finishing a book she couldn’t bear to put down. For two days, at least, their roles had been reversed and it made her wonder how on earth she had been prepared to accept so little from him before.
But she had set the agenda, hadn’t she? Murat had simply followed it. What man in the world wouldn’t lie back and enjoy a woman running round after him like that?
Inevitably, she found herself wishing that she could stay. She told herself that nothing was stopping her from doing that, since Murat had told her over and over that he didn’t want her to leave. Until she forced herself to remember that they still had no future together. All he was offering was a role as his mistress—and who knew when somebody younger and prettier would come along and supplant her? Because that was what happened to mistresses. Easy come, easy go.
She had the kind of background which most men would shy away from—let alone a powerful sultan. She was still the illegitimate daughter of an alcoholic mother and nothing would ever change that, either.
She thought back to the text she had just received from Rachel.
Really worried about Mum.
Catrin had felt fear descend on her like a dark cloud. She’d done all the stuff that the counsellors always recommended. In a hurried phone call, made while Murat had been in the shower, she had reminded her sister that she needed to take a step back. That nobody could stop an alcoholic from drinking if they were determined to do so. She didn’t want Rachel wasting any more of her university vacation, trying to help someone who didn’t want to be helped. She told her that next week she would be travelling down to Wales and she would take over and sort it out...though she wasn’t quite sure how. It was not a prospect she was looking forward to, but some strange kind of loyalty made it impossible to walk away from the mess her mother had made of her life.
And in the meantime, she still had the bitter task of saying goodbye to Murat.
The light summer breeze on the terrace was ruffling his black hair as he clicked off his phone and looked at her and she thought that he had never looked quite as gorgeous or as accessible as he did in that moment.
‘Such a serious expression,’ he mused. ‘You’re not regretting your decision to leave, are you?’
She said the words with way more conviction than she felt. ‘Definitely not.’
‘Are you sure?’ he persisted. ‘You don’t sound very sure. Think how good it’s been these last couple of days, Cat. And then think about all the days we could have together in the future.’
She was tempted. Of course she was. Faced with the choice of going it alone, or staying here with the man she still loved, there wasn’t much of a contest. Except that this wasn’t real. She was only ever going to be a stopgap in Murat’s life—and that was no longer enough.
She shrugged. ‘I have no doubt it would be wonderful in lots of ways, but it isn’t going to happen. So I’d advise you not to waste your time by trying to change my mind.’
His black gaze flicked over her, making her skin tingle as if someone had just brushed it with fire.
‘But what about if I asked for an extension?’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘What kind of extension?’
He leaned back against the wrought-iron balustrade and continued to study her, his attention lingering on the thrust of her breasts which were pushing insistently against her silky white shirt. ‘You remember I planned to meet with the wind-farm consortium in Italy?’
‘I thought that was next month.’
‘It was. But what if I’d managed to bring it forward? What if I told you that I’d persuaded Niccolo and Alekto to juggle their schedules and that we’re all flying out to Umbria tomorrow? Would you come with me, Cat?’
‘You’re telling me that you’ve managed to get two such powerful men to change their busy schedules based on nothing more than one of your whims?’
‘No, not on one of my whims.’ His mouth hardened into an implacable line. ‘More a determination to hang onto you for as long as possible.’
She shook her head. ‘You only want me because time is running out and because you’re used to getting your own way.’
‘No,’ he negated, and suddenly his voice sounded harsh and almost rough. ‘I want you because in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never stopped wanting you and I don’t think I ever will.’
‘Murat—’
‘But even putting aside your undoubted allure, your skill at playing hostess on these occasions
has never been in any doubt. You make business seem almost like fun, and people always relax more if there is a woman around.’ He paused. ‘Two more days, that’s all. Think about it. Two days in the Italian sun with nothing to think about other than topping up your tan. Surely that must tempt you into changing your mind?’
