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Ilyas had anticipated that she would—the attraction between them was undeniable, yet he had known she would fight it.
She reminded him of a young, wary falcon and knew that patience was required here. And that was the reason he had taken things no further, even though desire coursed through them both.
Her breath was ragged and her eyes blinked rapidly as he continued to hold her face. Their lips were moist and their chests were close to touching.
He dropped contact then and she felt the heat in her cheeks as he stared at her. She fought not to reach for more of his kiss or to lean into him, but then the choice was removed, for he stood.
Maggie opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it, for she didn’t know what to say.
It was best that he leave as she needed to think and she could not do that with Ilyas close by.
‘I’ll go,’ he told her.
‘Please.’ She looked at him. ‘That was a mistake.’
‘It didn’t feel like one,’ Ilyas answered. ‘It still doesn’t.’
Clearly he hadn’t read the bedding-a-virgin etiquette manual, for he took her hand and pressed it into his robe. She could feel how hard he was.
She went to pull her hand away but he held her tight there and she gave in with a very weak protest because he felt magnificent. Maggie didn’t resist when he pressed her palm in.
‘Whatever happened to flirting?’ Maggie asked, and her normal voice had completely gone, for her words croaked through a throat that felt impossibly dry.
Elsewhere she was not.
‘I don’t need to flirt,’ he told her. He released her from his grip, though for a telling moment her hand remained before she reclaimed it.
‘Maybe you do,’ Maggie said.
‘I don’t think so.’ He was, after all, a man who summoned sex with a bell. ‘Come out when you are ready.’
Maggie wasn’t sure that she would ever be ready, yet their kiss had left her wanting more and Ilyas knew exactly that.
It was the reason he left—he wanted her willing when she returned to his arms.
