‘That isn’t the point, Jane.’
‘No? Then what is the point? Would you prefer to choose everyone I’m allowed to speak to for the duration of our so-called marriage?’
‘Let’s just keep to the salient facts,’ he bit back. ‘What were you saying, which required so much secrecy, which required you to sneak out onto the balcony in order to say it?’
She shook her head and stared at the carpet. ‘That wasn’t why we went outside.’
‘I want to know.’
She lifted her chin and he could read the defiance on her face. ‘David is an old friend from university and we have lots
in common—mainly a love of ancient literature. We used to study together in the university library. He’s a nice person. I simply hinted that some time in the future we might be friends again.’
‘Friends?’ he shot out. ‘Or more than friends?’
‘Who knows?’ She shrugged but the anger was still sparking from her eyes. ‘Who knows what the future holds when I am no longer your Queen?’
‘And did you tell him the truth about our marriage? Did you give him a timetable of our chaste nights and impending divorce so that he could start ticking off the days until you could leap into his bed?’
‘Of course I didn’t! We just had a normal conversation and it helped me come to a conclusion which has been bubbling away ever since I agreed to be your wife.’ She sucked in a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders. ‘I’ve realised I can’t go on the way I have been doing, just existing in the shadows, like a ghost of a woman. I’ve realised that once this is all over, I want to get out there and start living. I want to be a real woman,’ she finished slowly.
‘Is that a euphemism for having sex?’
There was a pause and when she met his eyes her expression was fearless. ‘Well, why not?’ she challenged, her voice low and true. ‘I doubt whether you’ll be signing a pledge of chastity after we get divorced, will you, Zayed? I’m not planning to be a virgin all my life.’
He could hear the sound of heavy breathing and realised it was his own, just as he realised that the erection pressing against his trousers was harder than anything he’d ever felt before. He could feel the pounding of his heart and knew he shouldn’t do what he was about to do but somehow he just couldn’t stop himself. He reached out and caught her in his arms, seeing the instant darkening of her eyes and the frantic pulse which was beating at her temple as he pulled her against him. With his thumbs he smoothed back her hair, their roughened pads brushing against each diamond clip as he stared down into her face.
‘What are you doing, Zayed?’ she croaked, her tongue snaking out to moisten her lips as if to prepare them in readiness for him.
‘What I should have done weeks ago,’ he said, lowering his mouth to hers.
Jane felt her breath catch and her heart begin a giddy dance as Zayed began to kiss her. And after all the weeks of frustration, all she was aware of was an immense sensation of joy because if she was being brutally honest—hadn’t she dreamed of this moment? Yes, she had. Night and day and at the most inappropriate moments, she’d wondered what it would be like to be in Zayed Al Zawba’s arms like this. She’d always imagined that his kiss would be brutal. That it would be hard and possessive and masterful, just as he was. That it would crush her into sexual submission by showing her exactly who was boss and who had all the experience. But she had been wrong, because this was no such thing. It was a tantalising brush which was barely there. A slow, sensual invitation as his mouth grazed hers and sent her senses spinning. ‘Oh,’ she breathed, disbelieving wonder distorting her voice as she clutched his shoulders, like someone who was in danger of sliding to the ground. ‘Oh.’
He drew back his head, his black eyes dazed as they focussed on hers. ‘Did you enjoy that, my Queen?’ he questioned unsteadily.
What was the point in lying? Why not face up to the truth of her feelings? ‘More than you’ll ever know,’ she said softly.
She saw the flicker of fire in his eyes as he resumed the kiss in a more intimate re-enactment of what had just taken place. This time his tongue flickered over her teeth, until they opened to grant him access and he deepened the kiss. And now she was on completely different territory. She was the puppet and he the master—producing in her a reaction which she didn’t know she was capable of. She could sense it in her spiralling response—in the way she wriggled her hips restlessly against the hard cradle of his, as if she were performing some ancient kind of dance which she knew without having been taught. Suddenly Zayed made a low, growling sound in the back of his throat before picking her up and carrying her over to the bed. She could see the tension on his hawkish features as he laid her down, just as she could feel the urgent swelling of her breasts in response. Her body felt as if it had suddenly become too big for the dress she was wearing—as if her breasts were going to burst right out of the too-tight bodice.
Because this wasn’t part of their deal, was it? They weren’t supposed to be doing this.
‘Zayed,’ she said desperately, shivering with longing as the mattress dipped beneath his weight and suddenly he was lying next to her, stroking his thumb reflectively over the silky black fabric of her gown and making her nipple grow hard. She tried to hold back her instinctive cry of pleasure. ‘We...we mustn’t.’
‘Mustn’t what?’
He stroked some more and made her squirm and although it was as much as she could do to keep her eyes open, she forced herself to meet the mockery in his gaze.
‘We’re not...we’re not allowed to have sex. You know that,’ she gasped, because now he was rucking the delicate fabric of her dress up her legs, all the way to her panties and her thighs were weak and trembling. ‘We’re not supposed to be...’ she struggled to get the words out but it was difficult when his hand was on her leg like that ‘...consummating our marriage!’
‘And we’re not going to.’
‘Then what...?’ She shuddered again as he began to circle his finger around one of her stocking tops. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Why don’t you let me take care of this?’ he said unevenly.
‘Take care of what?’
‘We’re allowed to have pleasure, surely? Just not full, penetrative sex.’ His voice grew husky as he continued to explore the band of delicate lace around her thigh. ‘But there are plenty of other things we can do which don’t cross that particular barrier.’