Maisey Yates - Sheikh's Defiant Wife

He frowned. ‘How many what?’

‘Women.’ She walked across the room towards the windows, wondering why she had gone ahead and asked him a question she had vowed not to ask.

‘Sara,’ he said softly. ‘It’s knowing women as I do which allows me to give you so much pleasure.’

‘Yes,’ she said, staring fixedly out of the giant windows which commanded a stunning view of the city, where the Eiffel Tower dominated a landscape made light by the shimmering waters of the Seine. ‘I imagine it is.’

She listened to the sudden sound of silence which had descended on the room. One of those silences between two people which she’d realised could say so much. Or rather, so little. Silences when she had to fight to bite back the words which were bursting to come out. Words which had been building up inside her for days—years—and which she knew he wouldn’t want to hear.

Instead, she stared out at the cityscape in front of her as if it was the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen, which wasn’t easy when her vision was starting to get all blurred.

‘Sara?’

She shook her head, praying that he wouldn’t pursue it. Leave me alone. Let me get over it in my own time.

‘Sara, look at me.’

It took a moment or two before she had composed herself enough to turn around and curve him a bright smile. ‘What?’

His eyes were narrowed and speculative. ‘Are those tears I see?’

‘No, of course it isn’t,’ she said, dabbing furiously at her eyes with a bunched fist. ‘And if it is, then it’s only my damned hormones. You must know all about those.’

‘Come here.’

‘I don’t want to. I’m enjoying the view.’

His gaze slid over her naked body. ‘I’m enjoying the view too, but I want you to come back to bed and tell me what’s wrong.’

She considered refusing—but what else was she going to do in this vast arena of the bedroom, with Suleiman watching her like that? She felt vulnerable—and not just because she was naked. She felt vulnerable with each hour of every day, knowing she was losing her heart to him.

He held out his arms and she felt as if she’d lost some kind of battle as she went to him, loving the way the flat of his hand smoothed down the spill of her hair as she climbed into bed beside him. She loved the feel of his naked body entwined with hers. She snuggled up to him, hoping that her closeness would distract him enough to stop asking questions she had no desire to answer. But no. He tilted up her chin, so that there was nowhere to look except into the ebony gleam of his eyes.

‘Want to talk about it, princess?’

She shook her head. ‘Not really.’

‘Shall I guess?’

‘Please don’t, Suleiman. It’s not important.’

‘I think it is. You’re falling in love with me.’

Sara flinched. Maybe she wasn’t as good at hiding her feelings as she’d thought. But then, neither was Suleiman as clever as he thought. He’d got the sentiment right—but the tense was wrong. She wasn’t ‘falling’ in love with him—she’d always been in love with him. Fancy him not knowing that. She gave him a cool smile. ‘That’s an occupational hazard for you, I expect?’

‘Yes,’ he said seriously. ‘I’m afraid it is.’

She shook her head, laughing in spite of everything. ‘You really are the most arrogant man I’ve ever known.’

‘I have never denied my arrogance.’

‘Admitting that doesn’t make it all right!’

She was trying to wriggle out of his arms, but he was having none of it. He captured both her wrists in his hands, stilling her so that their eyes were on a collision course.

‘I can’t help who I am, Sara. And I have enough experience—’

‘And then some.’

‘To recognise when a woman starts to lose her heart to me. Sweetheart, will you please stop wriggling—and glaring—and listen to what I have to say?’

‘I don’t want to listen.’

‘I think you need to.’

She stilled in his arms, aware of the loud thunder of her heart. His hard thigh was levered between her own and a sadness suddenly swept over her—because wasn’t she going to miss being in bed with him like this? Cuddled up in his arms and feeling as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. ‘I don’t want to turn this into a long goodbye,’ she whispered.

‘And neither do I.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. ‘I thought I did.’

‘What do you mean, you thought you did?’

Suleiman stared at her, as if unsure how much to tell her. But this was Sara—and hadn’t his relationship with her always been special and unique? The usual rules didn’t apply to this blonde-haired beauty he’d known since she was a mixed-up little kid. ‘Usually when a woman reaches this stage, I begin to grow wary. Bored.’

‘This stage?’ she spluttered indignantly. ‘You mean, as if this is some kind of infectious disease you’re incubating!’

He laughed. ‘I know that sounds like more arrogance but I’m trying to tell you the truth,’ he said. ‘Or would you rather me dress it up with lavish compliments and make like you’re the only woman I’ve ever been intimate with?’

‘No,’ she said, unable to keep the slight sulk from her voice.

‘At this stage of an affair,’ he said, though his mocking smile didn’t lessen the impact of his words, ‘I usually recognise that it must come to an end, no matter how much desire I’m feeling. Because an inequality of affection can prove volatile—and I have never wished to play games of emotional cruelty.’

‘Good of you,’ she said sarcastically. Her heart was beating painfully against her ribcage as she waited to hear what was coming next. But she kept her face as impassive as possible because she wasn’t going to give him the chance to reject her. Not a second time. And if that made it seem as if all she cared about was her pride—so what? What else was she going to be left with in the long, lonely hours when he’d gone?

She forced a smile, hoping that she seemed all grown up and reasonable. Because she was not going to be the woman with the red eyes, clinging to his legs as he walked out of the door. ‘Look, Suleiman—you’ve been very honest with me, so let me return the compliment. I’ve always had a crush on you—ever since I was a young girl. We both know that. That’s one of the reasons that kiss when I was eighteen turned into so much more.’

‘That kiss changed my life,’ he said simply.

Sara felt the clamp of pain around her heart. Don’t tell me things like that, because I’ll read into them more than you want me to. ‘This time in Paris has been...great. You know it has. You’re the most amazing lover. I’m sure I’m not the first woman to have told you that.’ She sucked in a deep breath, because she was sure she wouldn’t be the last, either. ‘But we both know this isn’t going anywhere—and we mustn’t make it into more than it is, because that will spoil it. We both know that when something is put out of reach, it makes that something seem much more tantalising. That’s why—’

He silenced her by placing his finger over her lips and his black eyes burned into hers. ‘I think I love you.’

Sara froze. Wasn’t it funny how you could dream of a man saying those words to you? And then he did and it was nothing like how you thought it would be. For a start, he had qualified them. He thought he loved her? That was the kind of thing someone said when they took an umbrella out on a sunny day. I thought it might rain. She didn’t believe him. She didn’t dare believe him.

‘Don’t say that,’ she hissed.

He looked startled. ‘Even if it’s true?’

‘Especially if it’s true,’ she said, and burst into tears.