‘Izzy. I’m serious. Why?’
She sighed. ‘Because … Oh, Tariq. Why do you think?’
Because no man had ever come close to the way he’d made her feel. Because it had been impossible not to let him make love to her once they’d started down that path. He’d warned her that there was going to be no long-term or commitment, and she wasn’t holding out for any. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be honest, did it? Just as long as she kept it cool.
‘Because nobody has ever turned me on as much as you do.’
He found himself slightly shocked to hear her talking to him in that way—but that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? The fact that she could see their lovemaking for what it was and not construct some romantic fantasy about it the way that women always did?
‘It was like that for me too,’ he admitted softly. ‘In fact …’ Hot and erotic memories flooded back. Of skin on skin as she welcomed him into her hot, slick body. He swallowed, acknowledging the potency of what had happened between them. And because of her innocence he felt he owed her the truth. ‘It was the best sex of my life.’
Isobel drew away from him, hating the sudden leap of her heart, angry with herself for wanting to buy into what was clearly a lie. And angry with him for feeling that she needed to be placated with a lie as whopping as that one. ‘Oh, come on, Tariq—with all the lovers you’ve had, you’re honestly expecting me to believe that?’
‘But it is true.’ He stared into her now smoky tawny eyes, wondering how much of the truth she could bear. ‘You see, never before have I made love to a woman without protection. It is a risk that I can never take—for all the obvious reasons. But a virgin who has never known another man cannot be tainted.’ He took her fingers and drifted them over his groin, enjoying seeing her eyes widen as he hardened instantly beneath them. ‘And a virgin who is on the pill cannot give me an unwanted child.’
Isobel snatched her hand away. ‘So you really hit the jackpot with me?’
He gave a low laugh as he recaptured her hand and brought it up to his lips. ‘You wanted to know why I found sex with you more exciting than with anyone else and I’ve told you. Don’t ask the questions, Izzy, if you can’t bear to hear the answers.’
‘You’re impossible,’ she whispered.
‘And you’re …’ His eyes narrowed as he kissed each fingertip in turn. ‘Well, right now you are looking positively decadent.’
Her indignation melted away as he slid her fingers inside the moist cavern of his mouth. It was as if even his most innocuous touch could weaken all her defences. ‘Am I?’
‘Extremely.’ He drifted the now damp fingers to the faint indigo shadows beneath her sleepy tawny eyes. ‘But you also look worn out, kalila.’
She loved him touching her like that. She loved him t
ouching her pretty much anywhere. ‘Mmm?’
‘Mmm. So why don’t you just relax?’ He brushed back the heavy spill of curls which had fallen down around her face. ‘Go on, Izzy. Relax.’
With a little sigh, she let her head drift back against the sofa as he continued to stroke her hair, just as if she were some cat that he was petting.
Distantly, as her weighted eyelids whispered to a close, she could hear the sound of water splashing. For one crazy moment she could have sworn that she heard someone whistling. But then the emotion of what had just happened and the stupefying endorphins it had produced made Isobel drift off into a glorious half-world of sleep.
She was woken by the distinct smell of sandalwood and the lightest brush of lips over hers, and when she blinked her eyes open it was to see Tariq standing over her. His black hair was glittering with tiny droplets of water and he was wearing a stark and beautifully cut tuxedo. He must have showered and changed in his office’s luxury bathroom, she thought dazedly.
The crisp whiteness of his silk shirt contrasted against the glow of his olive skin, and his black eyes positively gleamed with energy and satisfaction. He looked like a perfect specimen of masculinity, she thought—all pumped up and raring to go. As if, for him, sex had been nothing but a very gratifying form of exercise.
She stared up at him. ‘What’s … what’s happening?’
Tariq swallowed down a surge of lust. She looked so damned sexy lying there that part of him wanted to carry on where they’d left off. To do it to her again—only more slowly this time, and on the comfort of a couch. But wouldn’t some kind of natural break be better—for both of them? Wouldn’t that allow them to put some necessary perspective on what had just happened—and allow her not to start reading too much into what could be a potentially awkward situation?
‘You know I have to go to the party at the Maraban Embassy,’ he said softly. ‘You were nagging me about it before we …’
Isobel kept the stupefied smile glued to her lips. He was still planning on going to the party!
‘Yes. Yes, of course. You must go.’ She struggled to sit up a little, but Tariq made matters even worse by leaning over her and stroking a strand of hair away from her lips with the tip of his thumb. For a moment his thumb lingered, tracing its way around the sudden tremble of her lips.
‘I’ll get my car to drop you off home,’ he said.
‘No, honestly. I can get the—’
‘Bus?’
‘Well, yes.’