CAROL MARINELLI - Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby

His mouth was on hers again, pulling her closer in, and it felt sublime to kiss him back without thinking. It was tender, but with intent, his tongue sliding between her lips, the thick scent of arousal suddenly closing in as if suffocating her. She jerked away again, because even if it wasn’t tonight with Karim it would be soon. The inevitable day would come where she’d have to tell him she was frigid. She simply couldn’t face it.

She saw the whip of confusion in his eyes as she fled to the lift and he called her name.

‘Just leave me,’ she sobbed, tears blurring her vision as she tried to make out the floor numbers. She ended up pressing more than half the buttons, so that the lift stopped and started almost at every floor. She wasn’t scared that he’d chase her, just mortified by her own fear, choking down sobs as she swiped her card and stumbled into her room.

It was hopeless!

Soon her stunning grey dress lay in a puddle on the floor. Sheathed in lacy underwear, she lay under the sheets, curled into a shameful ball. She was ashamed of her own behaviour, knew she’d made a fool of herself and embarrassed him—he’d been kissing her goodnight, that was all.

It scared her how much she’d enjoyed it.

But she’d been stupid to try, Felicity was fast realising. Stupid to try and pretend that she was normal.

And very foolish to pretend with a man like Karim.

STEPPING out onto the freezing grey street and heading for the underground, Felicity just wanted to get home.

Her clothes, as promised, had been laundered and delivered, and looked better than when she had put them on this time yesterday morning. She had set her alarm for six, determined to get out early and not to have to suffer the embarrassment of seeing him at breakfast.

She’d overreacted appallingly—she knew that.

A simple goodnight would have sufficed.

But it wasn’t his kiss that had terrified her, it was the thought of where it might lead—where, with a man like Karim, it would lead. She couldn’t stand the shame of a disappointing end. Better to just walk away now. Karim oozed sexuality—and she could hardly beat him down with a stick, hardly keep chatting her way through dinner only to dodge his caress at the end of the night.

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