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Instead, he tossed the lid on the table, dug his fingers into the balm and applied it onto her reddened skin. Any attempt to be clinical and detached failed immediately, her silky-smooth skin dragging him back yet again to a time when he’d had free rein to touch and stroke, taste and devour. A time when every inch of her body had been his much-relished playground.
A soft moan escaped her, and his teeth gritted harder, the sound punching through every barrier and resistance to gleefully fuel the inferno raging within.
‘That feels so good,’ she said huskily.
‘Hmm,’ was all he managed, his gaze fixated on the skin he caressed. Once he’d treated the reddened area twice, he exhaled. ‘Now the other.’ His voice was thicker, hoarser than he wished as he waited for her to present him with the other affected shoulder.
Tahir congratulated himself on keeping a tight leash on the groan that threatened to rip free as he tended to her. But he couldn’t quite stop his fingers from drifting over the delicate shell of her ear and the spot beneath, confirming his thought when she shivered wildly.
‘You’re still sensitive here,’ he croaked before he could catch his words.
Stunning eyes dark with lust met his. For tight seconds, they were locked in desire’s maelstrom. Her nostrils quivered and the tiniest sound rippled from between her lips.
‘I thought you weren’t going to succumb to my charms ever again?’ she taunted on a breathless whisper, even as her eyes devoured his mouth.
Effectively called out, he felt the lash of shame, but even more disconcerting was the urge to reverse his edict. To keep stroking that sublime skin, coax more delightful sounds from that beautiful throat.
Tight-jawed, he closed the lid to the tub with more force than needed, tossed it away and placed several necessary feet between them. ‘That should give you some relief,’ he said tightly.
She continued to watch him for a spell, then, her composure annoyingly restored, she murmured, ‘Thank you.’ A hint of a nervous smile curved her lips as her gaze glanced off his. ‘It feels better already. You’re right. It wasn’t nothing. I don’t know why I said what I did when you—’
His waved hand silenced her. ‘You know why. You’re just afraid to address it. But no more.’
Her head jerked up, surprise colliding with the beginnings of wary annoyance. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Wrong again. No more excuses.’
Her lips parted, no doubt to offer a scathing rebuttal, but the appearance of his young attendant hovering near the entrance stopped her. The message delivered had Tahir frowning, then feeling a touch relieved.
He glanced at the hourglass to see there were minutes left. ‘Your time is almost up. I’m told my brother wishes to speak to me, so you get a little leeway while I take his call. We’ll pick this up again when I return.’
Lauren watched him stride out, all broad shoulders and immutable power, with her mouth agape.
What the hell had just happened?
She didn’t regret not pressing her claim about Matt. The strategy to bide her time was one she knew well. Sometimes the best way to create forward momentum was to first take a step back.
But the last thing she’d expected was for Tahir to spin even more circles around her.
Why was she surprised though? Hadn’t he been the toughest, most astute strategist she’d ever come across?
Exhaling to alleviate the stress cramping her muscles, she told herself she was relieved he’d gone, but it was a lie.
As shameful as it was to admit, she’d never felt more alive than when he’d challenged her or irritated her with his insistence that she was a shadow of her former self.
As if she didn’t know that. As if she didn’t look at herself in the mirror each morning and drop her gaze in regret.
Eyeing the hourglass, she shook her head at the faint hollow in her stomach. Her intentions had backfired. She’d wasted two and a half hours in the process.
But beside that unnervingly bleak sensation coursing through her was a more dangerous one. She twisted her head to stare at the sheen on her left shoulder, the aloe working its magic, and suppressed another moan as she relived the last few minutes.
Tahir’s touch had been electrifying, not diluted one iota by their butting heads—cerebrally or carnally. It was bad enough that she’d let out that moan. Worst still, she’d wanted him to keep going, to pick up her taunt and act on it. Tug her into his arms and kiss her again.She’d craved it.
She rose and retrieved her wrap and half-finished wine, ignoring the voice mocking her for shutting the door after the horse had bolted.
She paced, hoping the movement would clear her head. But it was no use. The heat in her pelvis continued to grow, sexual need building until she gave a frustrated groan.
For years she’d easily blocked out interest from the opposite sex.
