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‘Gabe?’ she whispered, her accented voice unsteady.
‘Relax.’ He gave another deep thrust. ‘Just. Let. Go.’
He saw her lips frame something which was destined never to be said as her eyelashes flew down to shutter out the blue. And then her body started to quiver helplessly around him and her back began to arch. He heard the words she said as she convulsed around him, although she spoke them in a language he didn’t understand. He kissed away the muffled little cries which followed and tried to ignore her fingernails, which were now digging painfully into his back. He waited until her body was almost still before he let go himself, spilling out his seed in great wrenching bursts he never wanted to end.
For a moment he felt so dazed that it was almost as if he’d been drugged. Today, of all days—his body was warm and pulsing with life, instead of feeling empty and cold or deliberately anaesthetised. From between slitted eyes, he surveyed her. Her glossy black hair was tumbling down over her breasts and her perfect olive skin was flushed.
He lifted his hand to her cheek and felt her shiver beneath that light touch. ‘Who are you?’ he questioned, but she leaned over him and kissed his lips into silence.
‘Shh,’ she said, and her voice was very gentle. ‘You look weary. Go to sleep, Gabe. Just go to sleep.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘HAVE YOU BEEN listening to a word I’ve been saying, Leila?’
Leila gave a start as her brother’s impatient question cut through the confusion of her thoughts. In the air-conditioned cool of the palace, she wondered if the hectic colour had faded from her cheeks and for once she gave thanks to the veil which concealed them from the Sultan. But there were other signs, too. She knew that. The mirror had told her so when she’d looked in it a short while ago.
Had the telltale glitter disappeared from her eyes? She prayed it had. Because if her clever and dictatorial brother Murat ever guessed how she had spent that particular afternoon...
If he had any idea that she had given her virginity to a man who had been a stranger to her.
She shivered.
He would kill her.
‘Of course I was listening,’ she defended.
His black eyes narrowed. ‘So I was saying...what?’
Leila swallowed as she searched around in the fog of her memory for something to remind her. ‘Something about the banquet you’re holding tonight.’
‘Very good, Leila.’ He nodded. ‘It seems you were paying attention, after all. A banquet in honour of my English guest, Gabe Steel.’
The sudden tremble of her knees at the mention of his name made Leila glad that she was sitting down. ‘Gabe Steel?’ she echoed and his name tasted nearly as sweet on her lips as his kisses had done.
Murat gave an impatient click of his tongue. ‘He is coming here tonight. You knew that, Leila.’
Leila forced a smile, acknowledging the power of the human mind to deny something which made you feel uncomfortable. It was the same as going for a ride in the desert—you knew that in the sand lurked snakes and scorpions, but if you thought about them for too long you’d never get on a horse again.
Of course she had known that Gabe was coming here tonight but—as with all the Sultan’s formal banquets—she hadn’t been invited. If she had, then there would have been no need to have gone to the advertising executive’s room in secret to make her doomed job application. And then to have acted like some kind of...
Briefly, she closed her eyes. She mustn’t think about him. She mustn’t.
Yet try as she might, it was impossible to stem the flashbacks which plagued her, as if someone were playing a forbidden and erotic movie inside her head on an endless loop. She couldn’t seem to stop remembering the way he’d made love to her and the way he had made her feel.
She knew that what she had done today had been wrong. It had flown in the face of everything she had been brought up to believe in. In Qurhah, women who were ‘good’ saved themselves until marriage. Especially royal princesses. There was simply no other option and up until today she had never questioned it. Yet she had seized the opportunity to let the powerful tycoon take her to his bed without a second thought. She had wanted him with a hunger which had taken her by surprise, and he had wanted her just as much, it seemed. For the first time in her life, she had behaved in a way which was truly liberated.
She remembered the gleam of his dark golden hair against the white of the pillow after he’d made that strange low cry and shuddered deep inside her. The way he had fallen asleep almost immediately—a sleep so deep that for a moment she’d had to check he was still breathing. He hadn’t even stirred when she’d slipped from the bed—her body still warm and aching and her skin suffused with a soft, warm glow.
