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‘Would I what?’ she repeated dully.
‘Would you turn the Sheikh away? If he wanted only you?’
His deep voice, raw with need, made Kasia’s teasing words sound provocative, potent, thick with desire—and nothing like a joke.
Her answer got trapped in her throat. Something hard brushed against her hip. Entirely of its own accord, her gaze drifted down.
The loose tunic and pants should have hidden a lot, but they couldn’t hide that. She stared at the prominent outline of his erection. His knuckle touched her chin, lifting her traitorous gaze back to his face.
‘Do you like what you see, Catherine?’ he asked.
She nodded, slowly, the raw need in his voice mesmerising her and making the melting sensation in her panties all the more intense. She should stop this, leave now, before they did something they would both regret. But she was trapped by the need too, to feel his sensual lips on hers again. And everywhere else her body burned for his touch.
His fingers flexed and he yanked her closer still. Until she could feel his penis trapped against her belly.
Her breasts swelled against her bra as his gaze slid over the sensitised skin of her cleavage, exposed by the buttons Kasia had undone.
Arousal flared in the depths of his irises and coloured his skin.
‘Please...’ The raw need in her tone echoed around the room.
Bending his head, he planted his lips on the pounding pulse in her neck—and sucked.
Hunger powered through her, and her head dropped back, giving him better access, her pulse roaring where his lips feasted.
‘Zane...’ she cried, the sob of need becoming a plea.
‘Yes, I know,’ he muttered, his voice a broken whisper.
And just like that, the dam of longing she’d been keeping so carefully leashed for the past week broke and the devastating tide of yearning rolled through her like a tsunami. She lifted shaking fingers and plunged them into his short hair as she dragged his head up.
She wanted his lips on hers again. Wanted to feel that exhilarating jolt of passion, of freedom.
As if he had heard her secret desire, he slanted his mouth across hers. He feasted on her mouth, exploring the recesses, tempting and torturing her, swallowing her sobs. Her fingers massaged his scalp, running over the bones of his skull, rejoicing in the coarse silk of his hair.
He lifted his head, those intense blue eyes boring into hers in the shadowy light. ‘I want you so damn much. Tell me you want this, too?’
That he would ask, with such desperation in his voice, spoke to something inside her, tapping a spring she hadn’t e
ven known existed. It geysered up and burst out of her mouth.
‘Yes... Yes, I do.’
He scooped her into his arms and carried her out onto the balcony.
‘Where...? Where are you taking me?’ she said, the nerves twisting to life in her stomach.
They shouldn’t be doing this.
‘To my chambers,’ he said as he marched along the balcony and entered another suite of rooms. ‘As good as it was to hear laughter in my mother’s salon,’ he said, carrying her through an outer chamber into a lavish bedroom suite, ‘I’m not about to make love to you in her bed.’
Make love to you.
The words seemed to echo in Cat’s soul. Romantic. Forceful. Her foolish heart sped up into overdrive.
That’s not what he means.
They didn’t love each other. They hardly knew each other. This was about sex. About basic elemental attraction, but still her galloping heart slowed, and her limbs softened.
