by Abby Green
Assa appeared at Charlotte’s side. ‘I will draw you a bath, Miss McQuillan, and have some food brought to your room. You must be tired.’
Tired, hot and dusty. And still aching in secret places.
She followed Assa back to her room but a couple of hours later, after food and a bath, Charlotte couldn’t settle.
She’d half expected—hoped—to see Salim appear, but since the sun had set and night had fallen over the desert outside there’d been no visitors. She felt powerless, and it was far too reminiscent of when she’d been younger, when she’d been at the mercy of her parents’ whims.
She hated to think that after all she’d been through she had allowed herself to be treated so cavalierly, that somewhere in this vast crumbling palace Salim was oblivious to her turmoil.
And she hated it that she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he was proving to be far more complex than she’d ever have given him credit for: the king who was too selfish to rule his own people and yet had conducted himself like a king for the past week.
He hadn’t made love to her like a reprobate playboy last night. He’d made love to her like a man who cared more for her pleasure than his own. And yet today he’d treated her as if she didn’t exist.
Nothing added up.
Galvanised by something deep inside that wouldn’t rest, Charlotte changed out of the robe she wore and into plain trousers and the loose tribal shirt she’d bought from the women of the Jadar tribe. She looked at herself quickly in the mirror and grimaced at her tousled hair, but left it as it was. She couldn’t remember the last time it had been sleek and neat.
Before she could stop and rationalise what she was doing, Charlotte slipped out of her room and along the long corridor that led up to Salim’s private quarters. She only noticed halfway there that she was in bare feet, but didn’t stop.
The palace was silent, and it was only when she reached Salim’s door that she faltered. A bodyguard stood outside, but he recognised her and said in Arabic, ‘Good evening, Miss McQuillan. You have a meeting with King Al-Noury?’
She nodded, crossing her fingers at the white lie.
He opened the door and let her go inside. Charlotte hadn’t been to Salim’s quarters before, and saw that it was a vast labyrinth of rooms. The decor was masculine and heavy. Dark. Perhaps these had been his grandfather’s rooms.
She walked through the nearest door and found herself in a huge living area, with low couches dotted around coffee tables and a media centre in one corner where world news played on mute in the background.
And then her gaze landed on the tall figure standing by one of the windows. Her heart palpitated. He moved out of the shadows and into the low light of the room. His bone structure looked even more austere. He wore a white shirt and black trousers, once more the urbane Western billionaire. Albeit still with the beard and sexily messy hair.
For a second a sense of déjà-vu hit her as she recalled what that beard had felt like tickling her tender inner thighs. Charlotte wondered a little desperately if a man like Salim could ever be tamed?
He was holding a bulbous crystal glass in one hand and he raised it towards her, the amber liquid catching the light. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’
Charlotte swallowed the dryness in her mouth. She shook her head. The last thing she needed was anything that made her feel dizzier.
‘Was there something you wanted, Charlotte?’
He sounded almost bored, and not remotely surprised to see her. As if he’d been waiting for her because he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist coming to him.
She cursed herself for having ever thought there might be hidden depths to him and felt her emotions bubble over.
She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. ‘It’s true what they say—you really are a bastard, aren’t you?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
A SENSE OF déjà-vu hit Salim like a punch to his gut. The words she’d just uttered were words he was well used to hearing from women, but none had scored along his insides like a serrated knife before.
When he’d turned around just now, to see Charlotte standing just a few feet away, for a second he’d thought that he’d conjured her up out of the desire that was clawing at his insides, making a mockery of his determination to relegate her to a one-night aberration.
Salim couldn’t stop his gaze dipping hungrily to the vee neck of the tribal shirt and the way it clung to her breasts. The material was so fine he could see she wore no bra, and his body responded forcibly to the memory of how those firm swells had felt in his hands. How they’d felt pressed against his chest as she’d arched into him. How they’d tasted under his tongue.
She was real, and he felt exposed.
Irritation at her ability to slide under his skin so effortlessly made him ask curtly, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?’
She blanched slightly, some of her bravado slipping. ‘So you did notice?’
Salim felt grim. ‘I may be a bastard but I’m also an experienced lover, and last night was your first time, wasn’t it?’
Charlotte didn’t shy away from his question. She stepped forward and looked him directly in the eye. ‘Yes, it was.’
As direct and forthright as ever. No games there.
‘Then why me? Why now?’
Do you really want to know the answer to that? asked a voice. But it was too late.
Colour flared along her cheeks. ‘Because you’re the first man I’ve ever wanted like that. It was sex, pure and simple, Salim. Nothing more.’
He looked at her for a long moment, as if he could convince himself of the veracity of her words. They should be making him feel better, but if anything they only compounded his conflicting emotions because he doubted it was that pure and simple at all.
He felt compelled to goad her. ‘When I lost my virginity I believed myself in love... For about a week, until I found my lover in bed with one of my security detail.’
Her eyes sparked at that, and she stepped forward. ‘So that’s why you weren’t there when I woke this morning—to make sure I didn’t get any ideas.’
Salim’s conscience pricked hard. ‘I don’t do cosy mornings after.’
Charlotte folded her arms and it pushed the swells of her breasts up beneath the flimsy material of her shirt. Salim gritted his jaw.
‘Believe me, I didn’t imagine for a second that you did. I’m not in love with you, Salim, and I wasn’t looking to wake up in your arms. But a little acknowledgement of what we’d shared might have been nice.’
Honesty forced him to admit, ‘You deserved for your first time to be with a better man than me.’
Charlotte was stunned. The very thought of not having had that experience with this man made her go cold inside. No man would ever make her feel like that again. She knew that with fatal certainty.
She let her arms drop to her sides. ‘But I wanted you.’
Salim’s hand tightened on the glass he held. ‘Because I gave you little choice. I suspected your innocence but I seduced you anyway.’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘I know my own mind, Salim. I made the choice—you asked me if I was sure, don’t you remember?’
‘Did I?’
She nodded. ‘Why would you think you’re not worthy?’
His mouth tightened. He was looking at her, but not seeing her. He’d gone somewhere else.
‘I’ve gone after what I want for so long that it’s second nature for me to disregard others’ opinions. That’s why I won’t remain as King of Tabat. If anything, this past week has proved to me even more that they deserve someone better.’
Charlotte struggled to process this. ‘What are you talking about?’
Salim’s gaze narrowed on hers, and for the first time she saw something raw and unguarded in those blue depths. Raw enough to make her suck in a breath.
He said, ‘I’ve lived my life with two main objectives: to distance myself from my inheritance and family and to avenge my sister’
s death.’
Charlotte’s chest tightened. ‘Why did you have to avenge it?’
Salim made a curt gesture with his hand. ‘That’s not important now. What is important is that I know my limitations, and I am not prepared to be king. I haven’t spent hours studying, like my brother. I’ve lived my life in a way that should convince people that I’m not remotely suitable. And yet they don’t seem to want to accept that.’
‘Because,’ Charlotte said quietly, ‘they see what I saw this week—a man prepared to sit down and learn about his country. You didn’t need me there at all. Your destiny—whether you like to admit it or not—is in your DNA. You’re a king, Salim, and your people can see that.’
There was no disguising the bleakness she saw in his eyes now. This was no playboy. This was a tortured man.
‘Would you say the same if you knew I’d driven a man to his death in the name of vengeance?’
Her breath stopped. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I took a life for a life.’
Charlotte knew he must be talking about his sister. ‘But you didn’t actually...kill someone?’
He let out a short harsh laugh. ‘Not with my hands, but as good as.’
Charlotte knew instinctively that whatever had happened Salim wasn’t responsible in the way he obviously believed. But she guessed he wouldn’t elaborate, or appreciate hearing her thoughts.
She could also see very clearly that his motives for not wanting to be King of Tabat for longer than absolutely necessary had nothing to do with his own selfish needs. It was based on something far deeper and darker.
Acting on an instinct she couldn’t deny, Charlotte reached out and took the glass of alcohol out of Salim’s hand. She raised it to her mouth and drained it. The liquid slid down her throat, leaving a burning fire in its wake and rushing to her head.
She put the glass down carefully on a table and looked back up at Salim. He was watching her. Emotion surged in spite of her best efforts to burn it away with the whisky.
She aimed for a wry smile, but it felt wobbly. ‘You don’t actually need my expertise at all—you’re a natural.’
‘Are you telling me you think your services are no longer required?’ Salim’s voice was harsh.
The rush of alcohol-induced confidence trickled away and Charlotte felt cold. ‘No...that’s not what I’m saying.’
‘So what are you saying?’
She refused to let this austere Salim scare her away. ‘Do you want me, Salim? Because if you don’t that’s fine. I’ll leave right now.’
For a heart-stopping moment she saw the struggle on his face and in his eyes.
But then he reached for her as he said gutturally, ‘Yes, damn you—yes, I want you.’
It was all she needed to hear. She reached up and put her arms around his neck, pressed her mouth to his.
Salim knew he was playing with fire, but he was incapable of resisting. Charlotte’s mouth moved under his and he gave in to the dark hunger inside him—a voracious, needy hunger.
He wrapped his arms around her back and hauled her to him, feeling the length of her slender body trembling against his as he took control of the kiss and gorged on the sweetness she was offering.
Charlotte gave up trying to make any sense of anything—she just knew, as Salim started kissing her back, clearly showing her who was boss in this exchange, that she never wanted him to stop.
He’d awakened her on a sexual level but she knew very well that their time was finite. She felt that same greedy desire she had last night, to experience as much as she could.
When he pulled back from kissing her she went with him, opening her eyes, her vision blurry for a minute. He took her by the hand and led her through his rooms and into a vast bedroom, dominated by the biggest bed she’d ever seen in her life.
He stopped by the bed and let her hand go. ‘I want to see you.’
Charlotte’s inhibitions had been burnt away by alcohol and revelations. She had nothing left to hide behind, so she took off her clothes.
Salim’s blue gaze devoured her from head to toe. Once again the thought that he could find her so compelling was unbelievable and heady. Too heady to resist.
He reached for her and pulled her close. Her hands automatically searched for his shirt buttons, undoing them unsteadily because he was pushing her hair back and pressing kisses to her neck and shoulder, the scratch of his beard sending shivers through her whole body.
Her breasts felt heavy as he cupped one in his hand, his thumb moving back and forth over her nipple. The sensations connected directly to the pulse between her legs, where she was throbbing with hot, damp need.
When he pulled back slightly his shirt was open, but still tucked in. He made short work of untucking it and pulling it off, his hands going to his belt and then his trousers, undoing them and pushing them down to the floor.
Now he wore just briefs, and they were tented over his erection. Charlotte remembered how she had felt when he’d thrust inside her...how full and stretched... She reached out instinctively and cupped a hand over him.
He said roughly, ‘Take them off.’
With trembling hands she pulled them down from his lean hips and over his erection, down over powerful thighs and to the floor. She was almost kneeling at his feet now, and she stayed there.
She looked at that part of him that was so unashamedly masculine. She reached out and heard the breath hiss through his teeth as she wrapped her hand around his length, fascinated by the silky smoothness of the skin around that column of steel arising out of dark hair.
She touched the bead of moisture at its head with her thumb. She wanted to taste it and leant forward, licking with her tongue. Lust exploded inside her as the tart, salty taste impacted on her tastebuds and she wanted to taste more. She placed her mouth around him and for a heady moment felt a sense of unbelievable feminine power as she explored the bulbous head of his erection with her mouth and tongue.
But then he stepped back, out of her reach, and his hands came under her arms, lifting her up.
She immediately felt self-conscious. ‘Was I doing something wrong?’
Salim shook his head, his eyes burning so bright it almost hurt to look into them. ‘No. But I need to be inside you right now more than I need your mouth on me...’
‘Oh...’
Her heart thumped hard as Salim took her to the bed and she lay down. He came down beside her, all bronzed skin and rippling muscles. He put a hand on her thighs, opening them, and then placed his hand on the beating heart of her body before stroking her damp folds with his finger. She had to bite back a moan, she was so acutely sensitised.
Salim pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue tasting her explicitly before he drew back and said, ‘Let it out... I want to hear you...’
As if to make her moan out loud, one finger became two and he thrust them in and out. The ache deep inside her grew tight and sharp. It was even sharper when his mouth encircled one breast and he drew her hard nipple in deep, suckling at the tingling flesh until she couldn’t hold back any longer and moaned a plea into his shoulder...
Charlotte couldn’t breathe. She was caught in a spiral of growing need. Blindly she searched for and found Salim’s hard flesh, wrapping a hand around him, stroking up and down in an instinctive rhythm. She revelled in the way his breath hissed between his teeth and his muscles went taut.
He moved over her, dominating her easily...but in a way that made her excitement increase.
She explored with more confidence now, her hand still caressing him as she kissed his shoulder and moved her mouth down, exploring a hard nipple and administering the same torture he’d inflicted on her.
Salim reached to the side of the bed for something and donned protection. She moved so that she was under him, and his body settled between her spread legs as if this was a dance they’d done many times before. If she could think more clearly it would been scary how right this felt...
In silent answer to the
question he hadn’t even asked, she just tilted her hips up towards him so that the blunt head of his erection was notched right against her body, a mere breath away from—
Aahhh...
She moaned as he slid in slowly, watching her face. She was surrounded by heat and sensation, but he was going too slowly, so she wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his muscular buttocks.
He huffed out a laugh and gave in to her body’s demands, thrusting so deep inside her that for a long moment she couldn’t breathe. And then he started to move, and her breath came back, and she was soaring, flying higher and higher, until everything went still inside her. It felt like a tiny death—and then she exploded back into life and crashed and burned...
Salim couldn’t hold back a guttural curse as the powerful inner muscles of Charlotte’s body drew him in so thoroughly that he couldn’t keep from falling over the edge behind her.
It had been fast and furious. He’d never felt less in control of his own body. They’d touched and ignited immediately. He’d never experienced anything like it before.
It seemed to take for ever for his heart to slow down again as he lay slumped over Charlotte’s body. Her legs had fallen to his sides and he could feel the aftershock ripples of her inner muscles along his length, keeping him hard.
He lifted his head and looked down. She opened her eyes slowly and something turned over in his chest. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were swollen. Damp strands of strawberry-golden hair were stuck to her cheek. He tucked it back.
She looked as shocked as he felt—as if they’d both got caught in a sudden earthquake.
And then he became aware of his weight on her and reluctantly moved off her, going into the bathroom to take care of the protection.
He looked at himself for a moment in the mirror and felt a sense of déjà-vu as he recalled when he’d looked at himself a few weeks ago, just before talking with his brother Zafir. He’d felt jaded then—weary. Hollow.
