She pulled a face. “As if that’s going to happen. But I’m not dressed for it.”
He shook his head. “You’ll stop to put on sweats if any guy in New York comes up to attack you? ‘Oh, sorry, mister, I must take off my high heels and get ready for you.’”
“I don’t need the mockery.”
He grinned. “No, you need to learn just a few moves.”
Dragging her along, he strode down corridors and back halls, past security guards and maids, who smiled and seemed to regard this as nothing unusual. She started to wonder if anything Ahmed did startled anyone. Was everyone used to him misbehaving? If that was true, he was going to have a really hard time making his wedding come off the rails, since no one would bat an eye at him doing anything outrageous.
Pulling her into the gym, he let go of her hand and headed to an area of dark blue mats that covered part of the hardwood floor. The floors gleamed with polish. She glanced around, seeing a punching bag, a full up boxing ring, weights and state of the art stationary bikes and even a pool in the distance. Windows showed a view into a garden on one side, the pool was on the other, and skylights let in natural light. Air conditioning brushed a cool breeze ov
er her face. Angie had been using the gym, but Melanie had never imagined it was so huge.
Ahmed threw down his towel and faced her, waving her closer. “Come over. Punch me.” He squared his shoulders and kept his hands by his side.
Walking over to him and stepping onto the mats, she asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be fake attacking me?”
He rolled his eyes. “I need to know if you can punch first.”
She lifted a hand, bunched her fist and threw a punch at his chest. He grabbed her hand. “You punch like a girl, and you telegraph every move. Put your thumb over your fingers, and punch with the arm, not your fist. Faster this time. Try it again.”
She threw another punch. Again he blocked it. Stepping around her, he grabbed her hand and her arm. One hand rested on her hip while he gripped her hand. “Tighter fist.” He pulled her arm back. “Throw straight out as hard as you can. Fake with one hand and hit with the other.”
Melanie closed her eyes, wishing that they were doing something else. Even though his touch on her was harmless, she was having difficulty concentrating. She shivered as his fingers stroked down her arm. He stepped away from her, moving in front of her again.
She faked with the right and threw another punch with her left hand. Her fist smacked into his hard chest.
“Good. Now, if you want to do some harm, aim for the throat.” Stepping behind her, he pulled her left hand back. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat and reminded herself to focus on what he was saying and not where his hands were roaming. “This gives you the chance to throw another punch as powerful as the first. So it’s fake, then hit and hit. Practice once. Put your weight into it but keep your feet anchored.”
He put his hands on her hips. His warm breath on the back of her neck was doing things to her insides. She kept thinking about the last time they’d had sex—how he’d come into her from behind, how he’d held her like this, how his body had felt pressed up against hers afterward.
Ahmed seemed oblivious. “Come on, punch.”
Swallowing hard, she did as he asked, trying to concentrate on throwing one punch after another.
“Good. Can you feel the power in those punches?” he asked.
She turned slightly to tell him she could. Her gaze met his, and she froze. So did he.
He was still gripping her hips, but his eyes darkened now. The smile went out of his stare, and hunger came into it. Reaching up, he traced one finger down her cheek and then pushed her hair back behind her ear.
She sucked in a breath, heart hammering. She couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe.
He leaned closer and put his mouth on hers.
She leaned into him, pressing her body against his. She had no idea she’d wanted this, longed for it. She could only think how he tasted of ginger and cinnamon and cardamom and something that was uniquely him. His lips parted, and she opened her mouth to him. He caught the back of her neck and deepened the kiss. She gave a low groan.
She had no idea how long they kissed before he pulled back. His breath came in short gasps. So did hers.
Resting his forehead against hers, Ahmed closed his eyes. “It was a mistake bringing you here,” he confessed. “I can’t seem to get you out of my thoughts.”
Melanie turned and put her hands on his chest, resting them flat against him. Unable to look at his face, she whispered, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you either. But you are still engaged to someone else. I don’t care if you say that’s fake. We can’t do this. Not right now.”
“It’s my father’s plan. Not mine.”
Melanie stepped back. “You sure about that? Nasiji’s beautiful and charming. Why not marry her?”
“The only woman I am attracted to is you, Melanie. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, everyone else has paled in comparison.” He smiled and touched her cheek again. “That was why I had to see you again. I will always have to see you again.”