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She shrugged. ‘It would solve a lot of problems for us both. It would get me off your back and I’d see something of the Turkey I came to see.’
‘When I met you, you were about to commit a criminal act. Then your tour company goes bankrupt and now you wish to borrow money from me and disappear. And if that unravels, what then? Can you see why I am not tempted by this proposition?’
‘It was a mistake. An accident! And I could hardly help the tour company going broke.’
‘It would be a risk for one who seems so accident prone. No, I have a better idea. You can come with me. I will show you something of Istanbul and Turkey that isn’t even on the tourist trails, and you will have no need to worry about tour companies going broke or of falling foul of the authorities again. And then I will ensure you are at the airport for your flight home.’
‘You’d do all that out of your overinflated sense of responsibility?
‘Like I said, I take my responsibilities seriously.’
‘And there’s nothing in it for you?’
‘I will have the company of a beautiful—if antagonistic—woman for a few days, certainly.’
‘And a few nights.’
He smiled. ‘As you say.’
‘So this is how I am expected to pay for my private tour, then? On my back?’
‘You said that, not me.’
‘No, you prefer to talk about duty and pleasure. Surely it’s the same thing.’
‘In your mind, perhaps. I’m not going to stand here and lie and pretend that the prospect of you in my bed does not appeal. Can you be as honest? Or are you going to pretend that you did not enjoy last night’s activities and you are not excited by the prospect of being naked with me again?’
‘That’s not the point.’
‘No? What is the point, then, Amber Jones? Because all your smart little mouth is doing to me right now is making me want to shut it up and take you again, right here, right now.’
She looked in shock out of the windows, where ships and tankers dotted the Marmara Sea and if they could see out... ‘It’s broad daylight!’
‘You make me want to get you naked and turn you to the window and together we could watch the ships glide by as I slide into you. Does that excite you?’
‘You’re mad,’ she said, but her voice had lost its conviction because he was right. She was excited. Her senses were buzzing, her breasts were full and hard and there was an aching pulse between her thighs.
‘I know. Would you like to join me in my madness?’
It must have been someone else’s voice that said yes because she sure as hell didn’t recognise it. It was breathy and needy and earned a growl from Kadar that rumbled through her bones.
Slowly he peeled away her clothes. Painfully slowly. Taking his time to worship whatever part of her skin he’d revealed. Her shoulders, her elbows, her breasts.
Shrugging off the shoes from her feet and peeling down the jeans from her legs and pressing his lips to the backs of her knees and her ankle and the sensitive inside of her thighs.
She trembled as he rained kisses down on her body and teased her skin with his hot tongue and the pads of his fingers, the barest heated touch to her nipples, turning the satin of her skin to goosebumps, until every part of her body screamed of one purpose and one need.
Then he turned her, and she braced herself against the window with her elbows. ‘Watch the ships,’ he said as his hands skimmed down her sides and over the cheeks of her behind and between, to find her wet and waiting.
He groaned and she heard the slide of a zip and the tear of a wrapper. ‘Count them,’ he said, his voice husky and thick.
‘What?’
‘Out loud. Count the ships.’
And so Amber started counting. ‘One. Two. Three.’ And felt the nudge of him between her thighs and at her entrance and gasped.
‘Keep counting,’ he said, grinding out the words.
‘Four. Five.’ And angled her hips. ‘Six,’ and felt the long hard slide of him inside until he filled her.
Words failed her, numbers failed her, her energy concentrating on trying to hold him as he slowly withdrew. She closed her eyes because she had no energy to see, only to feel.
‘Count!’
‘Six,’ she managed as he thrust into her again, forcing her eyes wide open again. ‘No. Seven. Eight.’
Oh, God!
His rhythm built. The ships moved and she lost track of which she’d counted as he moved inside her, and numbers tumbled from her lips. Numbers without rhyme or reason or an end to them because there were too many ships and remembering which number came next was too hard when all there was room for was sensation.
