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She moaned at the dark pleasure of it and in frustration—because this wasn’t enough. She wanted more.
They grappled with each other. Greedy lips and frenzied, groping hands wanting to touch everything, everywhere at once.
He hitched her skirt to her waist, his palms sliding along her bare thighs. She tugged his shirttails free, her fingers finding the warm, silken skin of his back. He sighed into her mouth and sent his hands on more discoveries of their own, reaching between them to pop the buttons of her dress.
His hand slipped beneath the fabric and closed about a lace-covered breast. Her hands flew upwards, fisting in the dark silk of his hair when he wrenched the lace aside and closed his mouth around a tightly budded nipple.
‘I’m afraid His Highness is occupied at present. I’ll tell him you wish to speak with him, sir.’
Sabir’s raised voice came clearly, in English, from themajlis.
Khaled lurched away. He’d straightened his shirt and smoothed his disordered hair before she’d even gathered her wits enough to push herself upright. She shuffled her bottom off the edge of the desk and balanced awkwardly on her good leg. With trembling, clumsy fingers she tidied herself, righting her bra, refastening buttons, pushing her dress down.
Khaled set the desk to rights and then, taking her elbow, helped her towards the sofa. He retrieved the crutch, placing it within her reach, and made sure she was seated, with her face, her swollen lips and her flushed cheeks directed away from the door, before he summoned Sabir.
The secretary entered at once. Had he witnessed how they had been practically ravishing each other and retreated to themajlisto stand guard? Lily’s face flamed.
‘Hyde-Wallace?’ said Khaled.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Gone?’
‘Yes, sir.’
A muscle pulsed in Khaled’s jaw.
‘I’ll go now and find him.’
She stared up at him in disbelief. He couldn’t confess what he had, kiss her like that, and then simply walk away.
But he avoided her eye and spoke to Sabir. ‘Miss Marchant has wrenched her ankle again. I don’t want her walking back to her suite unaided. Organise someone to help.’
‘There’s a wheelchair in the sick bay. I’ll have it brought round,’ Sabir said.
Once he’d disappeared to make the arrangements Khaled turned to her. He looked ravaged.
‘Lily, what I just did was unforgivable.’
His regret rolled over her like a winter fog. She hugged herself, rubbing her shoulders to ward off the chill.
‘I have hurt you?’ He sounded appalled.
‘No.’ She swiftly dropped her hands into her lap. ‘I’m fine.’
It was a lie. She wasn’t fine. Her body raged at the loss of him. Her heart broke for the pain in him. And that voice of experience she’d just ignored completely berated her.
Give of yourself and see what happens. Rejection. Have you learned nothing?
‘Lily...’ He thrust a hand through his hair and stared at her helplessly. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last. Then spun away, striding unevenly from the room.
Sabir reappeared, quietly announcing that a servant was coming to help her back to her suite. Ever the consummate aide, he didn’t press her for an answer, leaving her to her thoughts. Perhaps he understood as well as she just what had happened...
Khaled had confessed his darkest secret to her, but when she’d offered emotional comfort he’d rejected that, taking something entirely more basic. Then he’d fled in shame.
Did a girl need any more humiliating evidence of where she stood in his affections?
Lily closed her eyes and fought back the welling of scalding, bitter tears.
