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He slammed the door behind them, his breathing so laboured he was surprised he didn’t pass out. The effort to hold back his fear and his fury—and the dark tide of arousal—was almost more than he could bear.
‘Don’t ever leave the palace like that again,’ he said, keeping his voice low so he didn’t shout at her.
She flinched, but instead of backing down, instead of finally figuring out that this was no time to defy him, she did what she had done in the marketplace. She lifted her head, straightened her spine and thrust out her chin, the outline of her breasts heaving under the robe.
‘Why not?’
‘Because you are a woman alone in a strange country, and it’s not safe. I would have thought that was obvious,’ he said, his temper rising again. He rarely if ever had to explain himself. And he had no desire to explain himself now.
‘I’m an academic. I have to be able to do the necessary research. And I wasn’t alone. I was interviewing a seventy-year-old woman, with Kasia’s help. How could that possibly be dangerous?’
The bright flags of colour on her pale cheeks and the defiance in her eyes only made her more stunning.
She crossed her arms over her chest, her pulse battering her collarbone in hard heavy thuds. And he had the urge to place his lips against the pulse point and suck.
Focus, damn it.
‘You are vulnerable. You should never have gone to the market with Kasia when you have no means of protecting yourself. You know nothing of our customs. Our culture.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ she said, her voice measured but firm, inflaming his already inflammatory temper even more. ‘You brought me here to do a job but you won’t let me do it.’
‘I have arranged for you to see what you need to see,’ he ground out, annoyed by the tiny note of defensiveness in his voice. ‘With the proper protection.’
‘No, you haven’t, you’ve tried to micromanage what I see, and you’ve consistently refused to give me the access I need to your people. And even to yourself.’ She hauled in a shaky breath. ‘I’m beginning to think you’re trying to hide something from me. That you never intended for me to write the truth.’
Because the accusation was astute and far too intuitive,
damn her, he was forced to change his tack.
‘The truth?’ he snarled, his control snapping like a dry twig crushed under his boot. Desire pumped through his veins like wildfire. ‘You’re far too sheltered and naive to handle the truth about me and what I’ve been dreaming of doing to you for two solid weeks.’
The flush on her face rose to her hairline but instead of being cowed or appalled or disgusted with his revelation, as she should have been, her eyes darkened, the pupils dilating to black. And he had all the proof he needed that she was as fiercely aroused as he. Lust snapped and sizzled in the air around them, like a forest fire threatening to spark out of control.
‘You’ve been dreaming about me?’ she said, her voice a husky murmur of shock, which shouldn’t have been at all provocative... But somehow it was, the curiosity in her tone as captivating as the artless arousal shadowing those wide caramel eyes.
‘Yes, damn it,’ he said, his own voice dropping to a broken hiss, ripe with the longing he could no longer disguise.
Heat seared Cat’s insides. She shouldn’t have asked him about his dreams; she shouldn’t even want to know the answer... But her body—besieged by the pheromones that had brought it to wild vibrant life on the ride back from the marketplace—was in control now.
‘I didn’t know you’d been having them too.’ She stumbled over the words.
He cursed softly, but then he gripped her arm and drew her against him. She felt the weight of his arousal pressing into her belly and passion flushed through her system. The musky male aroma of soap and the light, refreshing hint of cedarwood surrounded her. His knuckle touched her chin, and he lifted her gaze to his.
‘And now you do,’ he said.
She nodded, too overwhelmed by all the emotions and sensations bombarding her to speak. She’d surprised herself, by standing up to him, by letting him know how appalled she was by his behaviour in the marketplace.
But she didn’t feel appalled any more. Not even close. She felt excited, exhilarated and impossibly turned on.
The gossamer silk of her robe was like a straitjacket, her overloaded body yearning to tear it off and feel his touch on her naked flesh. No one had ever looked at her with such yearning. Such passion.
His thumb skimmed down the side of her cheek. ‘I dreamt your skin was as soft as it looks,’ he murmured. ‘And I was right.’
His pupils darkened, filling the impossible blue of his irises. And the dangerous drawing sensation at her core dampened her panties. Her nipples drew into tight, aching peaks, her breath straining in her lungs.
He threaded his fingers into her hair and lifted her head. His lips brushed her mouth, but he didn’t make the final move. And her dazed brain realised he was waiting, for her to make the choice.
All the reasons why she shouldn’t kiss him flitted through her mind. But nothing could deny the hunger pulsing at her core.
