Lost to the Desert Warrior
Raz caught it in his hand and she laughed against his mouth. ‘Good catch, Your Highness.’
‘If it had fallen we would have had Security swarming all over this place.’
Without lifting his mouth from hers he replaced the lamp and urged her back towards the bed, but Layla twisted at the last moment so that this time he was the one on his back on the bed and she was the one on top.
Her hair fell forward onto his chest and he slid his fingers into it.
‘I love your hair.’
Smiling, she licked her way down his chest, heard him groan deep in his throat as she moved lower again, exploring him intimately, until his hands closed on her hips and he shifted her over him, his impatience evident in the hard bite of his fingers.
His hair-roughened thigh brushed against the softness of hers and she lowered herself onto him, watching his eyes turn deep, dark black as he drove deep into her. Layla moaned with the sheer pleasure of it, moving instinctively, until he locked his fingers over her hips to control her movements.
‘Give me a minute—’
His tone was raw, right on the edge of control, and she leaned forward to kiss his mouth, licking at his lips until he muttered something unintelligible and caught her head in his hands. They kissed like wild things, the heat a pulsing, pounding force, his body hard in hers as they drove each other to the same peak and over the edge. She felt him pulse inside her, watched his face as he lost control, as pleasure gripped them both and spun them into ecstasy.
Afterwards, she curled against his chest and felt his hand come up to touch her hair.
He didn’t speak and neither did she, because she’d learned how easily words could destroy and she wanted to preserve the moment. Preferably forever, but if not forever then at least for now.
And in the aftermath of their loving, while they both lay bathed in intimacy, she knew that Avery had been right.
She loved him.
The realisation was overwhelming, terrifying and puzzling all at the same time.
But most of all it was shocking. Shocking to learn yet another thing about herself. When she’d made the decision that marriage to Raz was the best solution, she’d braced herself for living with a stranger, but she was fast discovering that the stranger she was living with was herself.
She realised that her life before him had been as dry and empty as the vast desert. Because she’d never known anything else she’d assumed that was all there was, but now she knew differently. She’d thought she knew herself well, but had discovered she’d only known one small part of herself. And as for knowing him—
They say his heart is frozen into ice.
She knew that wasn’t true.
She lifted her head and looked at him, staring down into the fierce black of his eyes. To describe him as handsome was to do him a disservice, because his appeal went so much deeper than that. Etched in those striking features was a strength that was more than surface deep.
Something flickered in those ebony depths and she saw all her own questions reflected back at her.
Without speaking he lifted his hand and pushed her hair away from her face. It was impossible not to react to his touch because it seemed everything she felt about this man was exaggerated and out of her control.
She felt a stab of envy for his wife, whom he had loved so deeply, swiftly followed by guilt that she could feel that way about someone no longer alive.
A few weeks ago she hadn’t known anything about love.
She’d felt disconnected from the poets’ description of the agony and heartache that came with love and loss. She’d never seen any evidence to support the theory that hearts could break, shatter or be frozen into ice.
She’d been willing to believe in love, but had never expected to experience the reality.
But now she had both experience and evidence. She felt the pain of it heavy in her chest, the ache behind her ribcage growing by the hour.
Raz frowned slightly and just for a moment she thought he was going to say something. Then he gathered her close and pulled the covers over them both.
‘That was amazing. You are amazing.’
Layla said nothing because she had no idea what to say.
When she’d made the decision to suggest marriage to him she’d been prepared to live in a loveless partnership. Any alternative hadn’t occurred to her, because although she’d been willing to believe love existed for other people she’d had no evidence to suggest she was capable of it. All she’d wanted was respect and kindness. She’d been ignorant of the impact of sexual attraction and ignorant of the power of love.