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Curiously, regret stayed muted in the background, a mirage content to keep its distance. He didn’t mind. He didn’t regret what had just happened. What troubled him most was the seeming...inevitabilityof the whole thing.
Somehow, he’d known in his bones in those moments after she’d blurted out her plea on his helipad that they would end up here, in this position, their limbs tangled around each other in post-coital abandon. Were he the type to believe in the cosmic, he’d think this was written in the stars. That true control wasn’t his when it came to Lauren Winchester.
But he wasn’t such a type. He’d suspected this might happen. He’d resisted but, ultimately, he’d been unable to stop it. Because he hadn’t wanted to, despite all signs pointing to it being a bad idea?
He clenched his jaw, fighting the implication that he was so weak-willed when it came to this woman.
But wasn’t he? He’d barely managed twenty-four hours before succumbing to her allure. They’d fallen into bed while the serious issues of her remorse and his forgiveness remained in the balance. Hell, he’d devolved into playingtour guide, showing off the very place she’d had him banished to, then compounded it all by inviting her to greet his guests at his side.
He hadn’t even spared more than a fleeting thought for the rampant speculation he would be inviting by that last action.
All because he’d yearned to see her come alive and would’ve done anything to achieve it?
He exhaled, attempting to escape the discomfort of his own thoughts. He knew before morning his advisors would be demanding to know the same thing—what had he been thinking? But they wouldn’t stop there.
They would probe and nuance-seek his actions to death. Or until they were satisfied it wasn’t a harbinger of some other decision.
He shifted, his mind attempting to sidestep the unfeasible thought that wanted to sprout. Except that task, too, seemed impossible. Come midnight, questions would come. For answers he didn’t have.
Or did he?
Discomfort warred with anticipation, producing a disconcerting mix.
Against him, Lauren moved, sighed and curled her hand over his chest.
He needed to get up, vacate the room or move her to her own bed.
But...his gaze tracked across the room to the hourglass his valet had delivered here hours ago at his direction. They were still caught up in the game, weren’t they?
And which part of the game is this?
The part where he abandoned everything his grandfather had taught him for the sake of a woman? The part where he could hear his own father’s condemnation even from the beyond?
He gritted his teeth tighter. Wasn’t he above that, though? His father had had his own flaws. He’d been too strict. Too set in his ways to bend and move with the times. To bend and move for his children. His marriage had barely survived what he himself had preached.
Wasn’t Tahir entitled to his own opinions? His own path? His own mistakes?
Plural?
Disconcertion grew. Wasn’t one mistake with this woman enough?
Or was he being disingenuous? Now he knew more about the circumstances of her past, couldhefind it in himself to bend a little, the way his own father hadn’t quite been able to?
The voice echoing a response within him was far too strong. Far too definitive.
But he couldn’t rush into decision. Didn’t he owe himself the right to be a little circumspect? Or was he pushing for time on a situation he’d already decided on?
He tried to tune out the voice mocking him that he’d already forgiven her completely and was playing for time. That he was reaching for circumspection far too late. He’d thoroughly spent himself with Lauren, given in to incandescent passion that still seared the edges of his senses.
Passion he wanted to relive all over again. And again.
It was that all-consuming need that finally drove him from the bed and past the hourglass that was slowly dwindling the last of Lauren’s time. Time she’d given up to be with him. He shook his head, unwilling to read more into it.
And yet he couldn’t prise his gaze from the whispering falls of sand, from the sensations moving within him, urging him to seize this moment before it passed.
Before it was too late...
His gaze drifted back to the woman laid out on his bed. Need punched through him one more time, and he had to lock his knees to stop himself from stalking back to the bed, waking her...
