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Abby inhaled and forgot what she’d been about to say as a deep tingle surged through her body from the point of contact.
He took the finger away and she breathed out, watching as he curved his arm on the pillow above his head; the stretch involved a contraction of muscle that inflamed the tingling she was already feeling inside.
‘I am not suffering survivor guilt...surviving is my way of...’ He broke off, as if at a loss to explain his relationship to someone like her. ‘I wish the world were the way you think it is, cara—you think that blood is thicker than water, but the brutal reality is that brothers do not always love one another. Some brothers hate...my brother hated me.’
Assailed by a sense of helplessness, she felt the lump of emotion in her throat swelling. She hated to see him hurting like this and beating himself up...guilty for something that no one could have prevented.
‘You can’t blame yourself, it was an accident, you argued...that is what families do—’
‘I really don’t feel guilty,’ he cut back with savage, biting emphasis that made her wonder if she was missing something.
‘Well, then, that’s good.’
‘Good!’ he spat before closing his eyes and clapping a hand heavily to his head. A moment later his hand fell away and he raised himself on one elbow, his free hand going to her chin, drawing her face around to look at him. ‘The truth is it was no accident. It was planned.’
‘How is that possible?’
‘It’s possible because...’ He paused, a battle waging across his face as he struggled to force the words out. ‘You have that wholesome, shiny, dewy-eyed belief that goodness will overcome, don’t you?’
‘I’m not that naive, Zain, but yes, I do think that if you give people a chance they will mostly do the right thing...yes, I do.’
‘The right thing!’ he echoed. ‘Do you think it was the right thing that my brother invited me there that day with the intention of ending both our lives?’ He must have heard her sharp intake of breath, seen her pale, shocked face, but he ignored both. ‘Khalid had found out that his life was ending—he had terminal cancer, the autopsy after the accident confirmed it—and he decided to put his—what do they say?—yes, his “affairs” in order.
‘He took great delight in telling me he was going to take me with him—his last revenge. Khalid’s last I love you, brother moment.’ His bitter laugh cut her like a shower of glass shards.
‘It wasn’t an accident.’ Her horrified whisper sounded loud in the silent room. ‘It was attempted murder.’
‘And he very nearly succeeded. I would be dead if that door had not given at the last moment and every time I close my eyes I see my brother’s face and know how much he hated me.’
‘I’m so, so sorry. Have you told anyone?’
Something flashed in his eyes as he looked at her and shook his head.
Shock vibrated through him; he had never intended to share the knowledge with anyone, let alone a woman he barely knew. There was nothing between him and this woman except a sexual attraction, he told himself, refusing to examine the suspicious knot of emotion that lay like a lead weight behind his breast bone. She had awoken in him something stronger than anything he had ever experienced and for the first time he realised how some men mistook this sort of primal connection for love.
‘My father must never know—it would... Khalid put him through hell over the years. I don’t want him to know the truth behind his death...what my brother tried to do. It would kill him.’
She pressed a hand to her heart as though making a vow as she held his eyes and shook her head. ‘I won’t tell him... I won’t tell anyone.’
Their eyes were locked, the silent, deep connection stretching as he reached up his long fingers, digging into the deep, silky mesh of waves at the back of her head.
Her heart thudding audibly, Abby rose up on her knees and placed her palms flat on either side of his head as he dragged her face slowly down to his.
The first brush of his lips sent a jolt of shock fizzing through her body. She tensed and then, with a sigh, relaxed into the pressure of his slow, seductive exploration. Her body arched over him as his hands slid down her shoulders, moving slowly over the thin silk of her nightdress. By the time they reached the curve of her taut bottom she was quivering with need.
‘I have wanted you from the moment I saw you,’ he said thickly, easing her onto her back and rising over her.
* * *
The raw desire in his voice excited her more than Abby would have believed possible. She ran her hands down his back—it was all hard muscle and silky skin—but stopped suddenly, remembering his injures.
In the act of sliding down her body he stopped and lifted his head. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I want you, Zain, I want to touch you...taste you...’ She shocked herself with the bold admission before adding a half-whispered, ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
His laugh held relief and warmth. ‘Let me show how much you’re hurting me, angel.’
He took her hand and fed it down his body, sliding it under the waistband of his shorts, watching her face as he curled her fingers around the smooth, hard shaft of his erection.
