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‘There is no such thing!’ Shahir tossed back the sheet and vaulted out of bed. ‘I said I would not touch you if you were a virgin, and you chose to lie rather than tell me the truth. That was an act of deceit, and unfair to me.’
Taken aback by his cutting candour, and by the aggressive masculinity of his naked bronzed body, Kirsten flushed a deep guilty pink and averted her eyes from his powerful physique. ‘It was my choice.’
‘But it would not have been my choice to destroy your innocence. That was a betrayal of the principles that I respect,’ Shahir imparted grimly, striding into the dressing room to gather up clean clothes and then continuing on into the adjoining bathroom.
Kirsten heard the sound of a shower running. She still had a convulsive grip on the sheet. A surge of stinging moisture was washing the back of her eyes and she swallowed the painful lump in her throat. She had acted wrongly, and the punishment for her misbehaviour was coming even faster than she had feared it would. She had surrendered her virginity to a man who didn’t want it and who did not feel even remotely appreciative of the fact that she had given it to him because she felt he was special.
In what way was he special now? She crushed back that daunting reflection of her own ignorance when it came to men and tried to concentrate.
But it was a challenge. Here she was, desperate for some reassurance from him, even a little warmth and affection, and he was acting as if she had murdered someone. He had also called her a liar and, while strictly speaking that might be true, she really wasn’t in the habit of telling lies. Unfortunately she had been upset, and she was very attracted to him, and somehow those two things had combined to wash away her usual level-headed and honest approach to life.
Shahir reappeared, looking formidably elegant and intimidating in yet another dark and beautifully tailored suit.
Kirsten spared him a skimming glance before fixing her attention on the foot of the bed. ‘I’m sorry I lied, but I really wasn’t thinking about what I was doing,’ she admitted in a small, tight voice. ‘Now that I am thinking, I wish I hadn’t lied to you.’
His brooding gaze lightened several shades at that acknowledgement, but he was determined to drive home his point that he would not tolerate dishonesty. If, as he planned, she became a semi-permanent feature in his life, it was a lesson she needed to learn. ‘Lies damage trust,’ he pointed out levelly. ‘How long do you think it will be before I am prepared to trust your word again?’
Kirsten wasn’t listening to him. Having opened up the box of her own regrets, she was now steadily drowning in them. She not only wished that she hadn’t lied to him, but was beginning to wish that she had not slept with him. ‘I really just wish this hadn’t happened—’
‘We are not children, Kirsten. We chose to allow it to happen.’
‘There’s no need to rub it in! It’s the worst mistake I ever made in my stupid life…’
‘We were both unwise.’ Shahir was struggling to silence his conscience while at the same time telling himself that there was no point in agonising over what could not be altered. He had wanted her. Now he had her—in more ways than one. He would be a liar if he overplayed the show of regret. ‘But an apparent mistake may yet be turned into a more positive development.’
‘I don’t see how…’ Wrenching the sheet from its moorings, Kirsten wrapped it clumsily round her and clambered off the bed, her lovely face tight with unhappiness.
She longed to have the ability to close her eyes and magically escape from the scene of their intimacy. Why on earth had she not had the sense to flee while he was in the shower? She felt much too ashamed to look him in the face as she stooped to pick up her discarded clothing, piece by mortifying piece. How could she so easily have disregarded every moral rule that had been drummed into her from childhood? She hardly knew him, and yet she had gone to bed with him. She was shattered by that reality, for in her right mind such an act seemed unthinkable to her.
She could see the sheer, terrifying power of her own emotions had combined with sexual attraction to destroy her self-respect. He had looked at her and he had touched her and all her common sense and self control had vanished. How could she continue to deny that she had feelings for him? Was she infatuated with him? Was she in love? He had haunted her thoughts and her dreams from their very first encounter on the hill. But she did not see that as an excuse for what she had allowed to happen between them.
‘Stop this…’ Catching her slender hand in his, Shahir gently detached her blouse from the fierce hold she had on it.
‘But I have to get back to work—’
‘No, you do not.’ Shahir pressed her down into an upholstered chair. ‘I want you to listen to me.’
‘I really do need to get dressed—
’
‘Look at me,’ he urged huskily. ‘We are lovers now.’
Kirsten froze, the reminder deeply unwelcome. A flush of pained colour washed her cheekbones. She felt utterly wretched. She linked her trembling hands tightly together and made herself look up at him. ‘Why do you have to throw that at me? Don’t you think I feel bad enough as it is?’
Shahir dropped down in an athletic crouch so that his brilliant dark-as-midnight gaze was on a level with her. ‘You should not feel unhappy about what has happened between us—’
‘Well, I do,’ she cut in unevenly.
‘This could be the beginning of a new life for you.’
Her smooth forehead indented. ‘How?’
‘Obviously after this you can no longer work here. But I won’t let you go home to your father again either. From now on I will make myself responsible for you.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘That you can simply get dressed and walk out into the limo with me and never return here.’
