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His hand cupped her cheek, and he swept her hair behind one ear. ‘What is it?’ he said, concern shadowing his eyes. ‘You look worried.’
How did he read her so easily? When she found it next to impossible to read him?
‘What did you mean, when you said it was good to hear laughter in that room?’ she asked.
His fingers stilled in her hair, and she wished she could take the impulsive question back.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that, it’s not relevant to the—’
‘Now, don’t start apologising for nothing again,’ he said and continued playing with her hair.
There was no edge to his voice, the tone relaxed, but she suddenly felt hideously exposed. The fog of afterglow finally clearing from her dazed brain and making her realise exactly what she’d done.
The project? Her contract? If she thought a kiss had compromised that, what about falling into bed with the Sheikh?
Sitting up, she grabbed the sheet to cover her breasts and felt the slight soreness where he’d reddened the areolas with his kisses.
‘Hey,’ he said as she scooted off the bed. ‘What are you doing?’
She leaned over the edge to locate her robe. ‘I should go back to the women’s quarters. I need to pack.’
She could feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes.
What had she done? She’d really messed up this time. This wasn’t just a mistake. It was a catastrophe.
She spotted the edge of her robe under the bed, but as she leaned over further to pick it up the sheet around her body tightened and she couldn’t budge.
‘Why do you have to pack?’
She glanced over her shoulder, to see him propped up on one elbow, his fist gripping the other end of the sheet and preventing her from moving.
‘Because I have to leave. Obviously. I can’t possibly stay here after what just happened.’ She tugged on the sheet, knowing she was becoming hysterical but not quite able to stem the flow of feelings. She was her mother’s daughter after all. ‘Zane, please let go.’
‘No way,’ he said. ‘Not until you stop talking garbage. We slept together, Catherine. It was good. And kind of inevitable after that kiss.’
Was it?
She wanted to argue with him, appalled by his casual response to actions that had put the whole project in jeopardy.
‘I... I still can’t stay,’ she stuttered, desperate to tug the sheet out of his grip.
The blush fired up her chest. The last thing she needed right now was to have to wrestle with him.
Then he gave the sheet a sharp yank and she collapsed against his chest.
He clasped her round the waist and kissed the top of her shoulder blade as she tried to squirm away from him. ‘Calm down, Catherine... You’re overreacting again.’
He suddenly stilled, the low curse startling her as he let her go.
‘What the hell is this...?’
Taking her chance, she scrambled off the bed, but as she turned back to him, the sheet now wrapped securely around her, she could see what he was staring at.
The flecks of her blood on the bottom sheet.
His gaze rose to hers; the colour had drained out of his face. ‘Is this menstrual blood?’
She could have lied to him again. But she wasn’t a dishonest person. And the words simply wouldn’t leave her lips. Her face flushed with guilt in the tractor beam of his gaze and she was forced to shake her head.
