The Call of the Desert

For some perverse reason Julia felt inexplicably comforted. As if Kaden had just proved to her that no woman had managed to break through that wall of ice. And yet … how would she know? She was the last woman in the world he would confide in. And she was obviously the last woman in the world who could break through the icy reserve she’d seen that last evening in Burquat.

She realised then just how provocative the conversation was becoming, and put down her napkin. “I think I’m ready to go now.”

Kaden rose smoothly to his feet and indicated for Julia to precede him out of the booth. With his head inclined solicitously he was urbanity incarnate, but Julia didn’t trust it for a second. She knew the dark, seething passion that hummed between them was far from over.

When they reached the lobby Julia turned towards the main door, her mind was whirring with ways to say goodbye to Kaden and insist on getting a taxi. At the same time her belly was clenching pathetically at the thought of never seeing him again. Kaden caught her hand and her mind blanked at the physical contact. She looked up at him, and that slow lick of desire coiled through her belly. She cursed it—and herself.

“I’ve booked a suite here for the night.”

Julia straightened her spine and tried to block out the tantalising suggestion that they could be in bed within minutes. “If your aim is to make me feel like a high-class hooker then you’re succeeding admirably.”

Kaden cursed himself. Never before had he lacked finesse with a woman. He wanted Julia so badly he ached, and he’d booked the room because he’d known he wouldn’t have the restraint to wait until he got back to his apartment or her house. But she was as stiff as a board and about as remote as the summit of Everest. He had a good idea that she had every intention of walking away from him. He didn’t like the dart of panic he felt at acknowledging that.

Julia watched Kaden’s face. It was expressionless except for his jaw clenching and his eyes flashing. A dart of panic rose; to willingly spend another night with this man was emotional suicide.

“Kaden, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I came here tonight to have dinner with you. I do not intend repeating what happened last night. There’s no point. We have nothing to say to each other.”

In a move so fast her head spun, he was right in front of her. He said roughly, “We may have nothing to say to each other, but our bodies have plenty to say.”

He put his hands on her arms and pulled her close.

She sucked in a breath when she felt the burgeoning response of his body against her. Immediately there was an exultant rush of blood to her groin in answer. Any thoughts of emotional suicide were fading fast.

And it was then that she noticed they were standing in the middle of the lobby and attracting attention. How could they not? Kaden was six feet four at least, and one of the most recognisable men on the planet. Even if he wasn’t, his sheer good looks would draw enough attention.

He intuited the direction of her thoughts, and his eyes glinted down at her. “I have no problem making love to you here and now, Julia.”

To illustrate his point he pulled her in even tighter and brought his mouth down so close that she could feel his breath feather along her lips. Instinctively her mouth was already opening, seeking his.

He whispered, “We have unfinished business, Julia. Are you really ready to walk away from this? Because I’m not.”

And with that he settled his mouth over hers, right in the middle of that exclusive lobby, in front

of all those moneyed people. But for all Julia was aware they might have been in her house. What undid her completely was that his kiss was gentle and restrained, but she could feel the barely leashed passion behind it. If he’d been forceful it would have been easier to resist, but this kiss reminded her too much of the Kaden she’d once known …

His hands moved up to cradle her face, holding her in place while his tongue delved deep and stroked along hers, making her gasp with need.

Eventually he drew back and said, “The reason I booked the room was because I knew I wouldn’t be able to wait until I got you home. Not because I wanted you to feel like a high-class call girl. Now, we can continue this where we stand, and give the guests the show of their lives, or we can go upstairs.”

Julia’s hands had crept up to cling onto Kaden’s arms. She felt the muscles bunch and move and looked up into those dark eyes. She could feel herself falling down and down. There was no space between them. No space to think. She didn’t have the strength to walk away. Not yet.

Hating herself, she said shakily, “OK. Upstairs.”

With grim determination stamped all over his darkly gorgeous features, Kaden held her close and walked her across the lobby to the lifts. Her face flamed when she became aware of people’s discreet scrutiny, and Julia realised that within the space of twenty-four hours her carefully ordered and structured life had come tumbling down around her ears—so much so that she didn’t even recognise herself any more.

And the worst thing about this whole scenario: she was exhilarated in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

For the second morning in a row Julia woke up in an unfamiliar room and bed. But this time there was no pristine Kaden in a suit, watching her as she woke. The bed beside her was empty, sheets well tousled. She knew instantly that she was alone, and didn’t like the bereft feeling that took her by surprise. Their scent mingled with the air, along with the scent of sex. In a flash the previous night came back in glorious Technicolor.

They’d said not a word once they’d got to the room. They’d been naked and in bed within seconds, mutually combusting.

They’d made love for hours, insatiably. Hungering for one another only moments after each completion. Julia was exhausted, but she couldn’t deny the illicit feeling of peace within her. She sighed deeply. She knew Kaden was going to Al-Omar the next day for Samia’s wedding.

Then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see a folded piece of stiff hotel paper. She opened it up and read the arrogantly slashing handwriting: I’ll pick you up at your place, 7.30. K

Julia sighed again. One more night in this strange week when everything felt out of kilter and off balance and slightly dream-like. She’d love to be able to send a terse note back with a curt dismissal, but if last night had proved anything it was that the fire had well and truly been stoked and she was too fatally weak to resist. All of the very good reasons she had for saying no—her very self-preservation, for a start—were awfully elusive at the prospect of seeing Kaden for a last time.

When the doorbell rang that evening Julia was flustered. She opened the door, and once again wasn’t prepared for the effect of the reality of Kaden on her doorstep.