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His lip twisted in a half-smile. “We’ll see.” He lifted a hand to her, holding a small piece of card. “This is my number.”
She stared at it without attempting to take the damned thing.
Syed placed it on the coffee table beside him. “This is your decision, najin. I am offering you…”
“What? What are you offering me?” Her eyes were haunted. “You’re offering me nothing. Sex. Five years after you left.”
His eyes washed with regret. She was right. Was that what he thought? That he could come here and somehow pick up where they left off? That he’d apologise and she’d accept and they’d be as happy as before?
“I’m offering you a way out of this hell,” he said finally, wishing he had thought this through better.
“And a one-way pass into a new one,” she said softly. “Do you think I could live with myself if I slept with you for money?”
And the look of misery on her face set every single one of his convictions scurrying. Doubt filled him. “I want you,” he said again, as though it explained everything. As though that simple answer alone would make it okay. He didn’t just want her; he needed her.
“I’m not for sale.”
He stared at her; dark eyes clashing with her ice blue. “I don’t want to buy you.”
“That’s exactly what you’re trying to do?”
Silence throbbed around them. How could he dispute her assertion? He had done as she’d said. Only what choice did he have? Giving her money was an immediate concern. But in the back of his mind was the knowledge that he might have lost her forever. That without doing something drastic, she would never speak to him again.
And he couldn’t risk that.
“You don’t look well,” he said, the words a soft, gruff observation. So soft that for a second she mistook his statement for a sign of the relationship she had, at one time, believed they had.
But it was another lie. She would never trust this man again.
“I’m fine.”
“You are skin and bone.”
She glared at him. “So why are you fighting for this so hard? You obviously don’t find me as attractive now as you did …”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” She turned back to the window. Resignation flooded her. “Please, just go, Syed.”
She kept her eyes squeezed shut. Only when she heard the front door of the house close did she dare look around.
The room was empty.
He was gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
Five years earlier.
“Stop it,” Sarah giggled, mock-punching Syed’s arm as she studied the photo dispassionately.
“Stop what?” He reached for another dolmades, his eyes glimmering with mirth as he bit down on one end of the salty snack.
“Stop doing this.” Sarah focussed both eyes on the tip of her nose, copying his cross-eyed expression before she burst out laughing. “You look goofy.”
“Goofy?” He shook his head ruefully. “Definitely not a word that’s ever been attached to me before.”
“So maybe you’ve never had your portrait taken before,” Sarah said with a shrug of her shoulders. It was one of those hot July days that had gradually given way to a steamy, oppressive night. Not a breeze was to be had, and her dress was sticking to her body, her generous curves visible to Syed’s appraising gaze. And he was appraising her, in a way that made heat creep over her neck.
