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"How modest of you," she responded, tilting her head at him and forcing a smile.
"I wasn't brought up to be modest," he replied.
"That's right." She smirked at him. "Sheikhs don't do modesty," she snapped back. She lifted her brow sardonically.
Qazim shifted and leaned his head on the pillow next to her. She saw his gaze drift down the length of her body. He peeled the bed cover away from her lower body revealing her waist, her legs, and nakedness.
She watched as he seemed to savour the sight of her body in a primitive and feral manner. "I see you don't do modesty either," he said.
He leaned across and planted a kiss on her naked belly. Heat flared at her core. She glanced down and was tempted to run her fingers through the thickness of his slightly damp, dark hair. But she resisted that temptation.
She had to keep a hold of herself.
See this through.
In spite of that, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the sensation of the kisses he was lavishing on her skin.
It was almost as if he was consuming her. The way he had made love to her, right here in this bed, had made that quite clear.
He did worship her. He had whispered quiet words to her, words of adoration, ones of possession. She had been too stunned to reply, even if similar thoughts had floated into her mind at the same time.
Qazim lifted his head and gazed up at Grace. She told herself that he somehow sensed her nervousness. Had he already guessed what she was about to say to him?
"What did you want to tell me?" he asked almost innocently, almost casually.
She seized the moment. It was now or never. "It's about us."
The words sounded heavy in the darkness and silence of the bedroom. There was a long pause.
Qazim's brows furrowed slightly. His lips formed into a thin line. He sat up facing her. "Us?"
Grace nodded. "About all of this," she said looking around.
"What about it?"
Grace sighed. "Don't get me wrong Qazim. It's been wonderful."
He lifted up one brow. "And?" he said simply.
"But it's all happening so fast." Grace heard the emotion in her own voice.
He paused, peering at her. Then he said: "Isn't that a good thing?" He leaned slightly closer. "We connected, Grace. I would have thought that was important. Something we both want."
Grace shifted, lifting the bedcover up across the front of the body. She felt suddenly cold. She saw Qazim watch her gesture with a calm, even stare.
"I know, it has been wonderful, Qazim. I don't want you to misunderstand."
His brows furrowed. "I'm trying to understand, Grace. But I'm not sure what you're trying to tell me."
"Isn't it obvious?"
He shook his head. "No. Haven't I given you enough?"
"It's not about that," she snapped. "It isn't about you. What you've done for me."
"Then what is it about?"
Grace steadied herself. "This can't continue, Qazim. We have to stop this."
