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He shrugged and kept her smooth-skinned hand in his and thought about how close he’d been to getting into his car and how he would have left without a backward glance if not for the arrival of the polis. And even then, he hadn’t interceded on her behalf with any ulterior motives.
They had come later, when the polis had wanted a guarantee and it had occurred to him that there was one sure way he could keep her out of trouble...
‘I do not like to see people taken advantage of,’ he simply said. ‘Especially when they cannot speak the language.’
‘So you hang around the Spice Market saving tourists from being ripped off. That’s very noble of you.’
He smiled. For all her shyness, for all her inexperience, she wasn’t a complete mouse. ‘Well, perhaps I am selective in whom I choose to help.’
‘So why did you choose to help me?’
‘Because you don’t speak Turkish and you were at a disadvantage.’
‘Oh.’
It was one of those disappointed ‘ohs'. The ones women gave when they’d got the wrong answer to their question. And in spite of the fact he owed her nothing, that he was already doing her a favour and he had no need to stroke her ego, he curled an arm around her neck and drew her close.
‘You know why I chose you.’ He pressed his lips to hers, and tasted coffee and Turkish delight and the essence of woman and his body stirred. ‘Because I wanted you.’ Her eyes were wide, her lips parted as he pushed the covers from her perfect breasts and curled his fingers around one, his thumb teasing one nipple into bold relief. ‘Because I knew it would be good.’ Her breath hitched as he sent his hand southwards, skimming the slight undulations of belly and hips and between her legs as his hand parted her. She gasped as his thumb circled that tightly bound nub of nerve endings while his fingers found her slick and ready.
He reached for a condom and in the next movement pulled her astride him, positioning her and drawing her down his length as breath hissed through his teeth.
‘And I was right.’
CHAPTER SIX
THE NIGHT WAS short and morning came too soon. He watched the sun rise from the terrace, saw its coming light wash the sky pink above the hills and apartment buildings lining the shores of the Golden Horn, before it burst free of the land and blazed red into the winter’s day.
Too soon.
But he could not stay with her in bed. The urge to hold her had been too strong.
He did not hold women in the morning. This was new to him. Uncomfortable. Discomfiting.
But then he did not entertain women who did not bat an eye at his scars, who recognised burns for what they were, and who asked him if he wanted to talk about it. Of course, he had no wish to talk about it. But he wasn’t used to being asked.
He looked at the watch he’d slipped on his wrist before stepping out in his robe onto the terrace. It was time she was up. He turned to go inside and make coffee.
It was just as well she was leaving.
* * *
She woke alone, confused at first, until she remembered where she was and in whose bed.
But alone, the mattress beside her cold.
So he had taken his fill of her? She sighed.
So be it. She picked up her watch and checked the time. Today she left Istanbul on her tour and she was excited about that. Really she was, even if her excitement was blunted at the thought of leaving this night and this man behind.
For the night had been one revelation after another. There was nothing, it seemed, that this man could not do with his clever mouth and his skilful fingers and his...
Oh, God. She shivered, remembering the feel of him sliding into her. Sliding out.
Delicious memories she could take home.
Memories against which all future lovers would no doubt be judged. It wasn’t such a bad souvenir.
And the tour was why she was here. To follow in the other Amber’s footsteps and visit the sights of Turkey and some of the places she’d been so excited about visiting more than a century and a half ago. And if she found something that linked her great-great-great grandmother to this country somewhere, something that might explain those missing years that were probably described in the pages that had been torn from her diary, that would be the bonus.
She was already showered and dressed, her crazy bed-head hair tamed in a knot behind her head, and folding the last of her things into her pack when he came in with coffee.
‘In a hurry to leave?’
She smiled. He almost sounded annoyed she was almost ready. She knew he wasn’t. Whatever pleasures of the night they’d shared, he would be more than happy to get rid of his charge, having faithfully discharged his duties. ‘I thought you’d want to be rid of your obligation as soon as possible.’
