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But it was his mouth she had loved first.
A mouth that had defied her expectations and recited poetry and philosophy while his body looked built for wars. The contradictions of this man had been never-ending.
Until they had ended.
He’d walked out of the door and that had been the end of it.
Even that had been a contradiction, for he had made her love him, and then he had left. He had been broken by grief until she’d fixed him all up, loved the sadness from his sou
l… and then he’d left.
Without a word of warning or goodbye.
“I asked what the hell you are doing here?” She repeated, making an effort to keep her voice calm even when her temper was spiralling almost out of control.
It was a damned good question, but he was powerless to answer it when his own questions were tripping over themselves.
In his mind, Sarah hadn’t changed. Not much, anyway.
But the woman in front of him was nothing like he remembered. His eyes narrowed as he catalogued the alterations. The Sarah he had known before had been curvaceous, bordering on plump. All soft and round and perfect to wrap his arms around and hold tight to his body. This woman was reed-thin, beyond even what was considered fashionable. Her hair, once a long, blonde mane that had curled down her back, that he’d curled his fist around to tilt her head back to receive his kisses, had been cropped into an elfin style around her face that only served to emphasise the slash of her cheek bones. Apart from the smattering of freckles over the bridge of her dainty nose, she was almost unrecognisable.
“I came to see…” The words trailed off, as his eyes sought hers, searching them, studying them.
“You came to see what?” She stroked her hand over the child’s back automatically. He could tell it was a gesture she had performed many times, with a mother’s instinct. It rolled something deep inside of him.
Instant revulsion twisted his gut. “I came to talk,” he said, remembering that he was Sheikh Syed Al’Eba, a man born to command and rule. The words rang with confidence-bordering-on-arrogance.
“You can’t be serious?” She murmured, stroking Lexi’s hair now, it’s soft, downy curls springy beneath her touch.
Syed drew himself to his full height. “Do I look like I am joking?”
“I haven’t seen you in years, and you turn up on my doorstep wanting to … talk?”
His lips curled in a derisive smile. “It does not look like you have been pining for me in my absence.” He nodded towards Lexi, his implication clear.
It was on the tip of Sarah’s tongue to correct his error, but something held her back. Instead, she tightened her grip around Lexi. “I have to get my daughter into bed.”
It was hardly a lie. With no living parents, it had been easy to adopt Lexi, and heaven knew Sarah thought of the little girl as her daughter in every way. Besides, she wasn’t about to air her dirty linen for this man. Not after the way he’d deserted her.
“I will wait.”
Sarah’s jaw dropped. “You’ll wait?” She repeated quickly, perplexed and furious at the same time. “You’ll wait?” She repeated, as though saying it might make more sense of his assertion.
“The lounge,” he nodded towards the room behind them.
How many nights they had spent in that small, cosy room? Sarah’s skin prickled with remembered pleasures. Pleasures so long ago relegated to the back of her mind, to the recesses of hope and the graveyard of possibilities. What the hell was he doing in her house?
It was a question that demanded an answer, but not until she’d put Lexi to bed. The start of Lexi’s short life had been marred by conflict and drama, confrontation and anger, and Sarah had sworn, the day she’d adopted the infant, that she’d do better for her. She’d made sure her life was full of only smiles and love. Good things. Her eyes narrowed as she gave her full attention to the man opposite. “There’s a bar around the corner,” she said stiffly. “You can go and wait there, thank you, while I spend time with my daughter.”
Unused to being directed, it brought back a startling revelation.
She hadn’t known of his position in society. When they’d met, he’d been a man, and she’d been a woman, and they had spoken to one another as equals. He had enjoyed seeing her flex her muscles, at one point; watching her dictate her wishes to him.
Then, he had been her equal, and now?
“Fine.” He nodded curtly. “One hour.”
“Two,” she bartered, thinking again of the shower she desperately needed. Especially if she was going to meet this man with anything like her best food forward.
