‘Kulal!’ The word trembled from her lips. ‘That’s the kind of thing a savage would say!’
‘But perhaps my “savage” words turn you on, my beauty.’ His black eyes gleamed with challenge as he observed the sudden flush of colour in her cheeks. ‘Am I right?’
And although she shook her head to halt his erotic line of questioning, the truth was that he was turning her on. Turning her on in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible, especially when all he was doing was holding her hand. Rosa could feel her breasts pushing against the bodice of her gown, as if they were anxious to be freed from their lacy confinement. Her mouth was drying and her skin was tightening with anticipation, so that she felt almost dizzy. But even though she felt a little daunted by this rush of unfamiliar sensations, she met his eyes with a sudden fearlessness, recognising that this was her opportunity, her time to grow. She had married Kulal to be free and independent, not to cower in the corner just because he was making her body respond to him in a way which was perfectly natural.
‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘Your words turn me on. They turn me on very much, if you must know.’
She saw the sudden tension which passed over his face before he nodded. ‘Then let’s get this next bit over with,’ he said, sliding his arm around her waist. ‘Let’s go outside and give the press exactly what they want.’
But despite his warning, Rosa was unprepared for the wall of blinding light as the embassy doors were opened onto the street, where the small number of photographers had grown into a jostling crowd.
‘Rosa!’ someone yelled as the flashlights flared. ‘What do your family think about you marrying a sheikh?’
‘Rosa, how do you think Kulal’s ex-fiancée is feeling today?’
Rosa could feel herself stiffen, but Kulal pressed his fingers into the flesh at her waist.
‘Smile,’ he instructed softly. ‘Look like you’re having fun.’
But she felt almost paralysed by the flashbulbs and the damning nature of the questions and maybe Kulal realised that, for suddenly he turned her towards him, his lips parting so that she could see the gleam of his teeth.
‘Seems like I’m going to have to kiss you properly after all,’ he said.
‘And is that such a hardship?’ she whispered.
‘Everything about me is hard at the moment,’ he commented drily as he lowered his mouth onto hers.
For a moment, the only thing Rosa was aware of was the press going crazy, but then the outside world blurred and faded and she was aware of nothing, other than the sensation of his lips exploring hers. Desire raced through her, as if he’d turned on some powerful current. As if she was on fire. She pressed the palms of her hands against his chest, revelling in the feel of his powerful torso, until she realised that he was pulling away from her and that the kiss had come to an abrupt end.
His eyes were impossible to read as he stared down into her upturned face, as if he was seeing something there which he had not expected to see. ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever kissed a woman in public and I don’t think it’s an experiment which needs repeating. I think I’d better get you back to my apartment as quickly as possible,’ he said, his mouth barely moving for fear that some clever lip-reader in the press corps could pick up on what he was saying. ‘Before we’re hauled up on a charge of public indecency.’
Rosa could feel herself blushing as his bodyguards began to clear a way through the press, but she was surprised when Kulal waved a dismissive hand at the driver, who was opening the door of his official car. ‘No. We’ll walk,’ he said. ‘It isn’t far.’
‘But, Highness—’
‘I said we’ll walk.’ And with that, he took her hand in his and began to lead her along the street, his mood unexpectedly buoyant as they began to walk along the wide boulevard. He stared down at their interlocked fingers, suddenly aware of the fact that he’d never held hands with a woman in public before. Her skin was the delicious honeyed shade which denoted her Sicilian upbringing, but his own was very much darker and there seemed to be a certain erotic association about the contrast between the differing hues. ‘And smile,’ he added softly.
It was the most bizarre experience of Rosa’s life, walking in her lace wedding dress through the exclusive streets of the sixteenth arrondissement, her new husband beside her in his flowing white robes. Bodyguards speaking furiously into earpieces shadowed them all the way and people stopped what they were doing to turn and stare. She saw cars slowing down and drivers leaning out of their windows to capture their image on cellphones, and there were yet more press waiting outside his upmarket apartment block. She wondered if there would have been quite so much fuss if Kulal hadn’t been wearing his traditional robes—and that only added to her sense of unreality. As if he was some kind of fantasy figure, rather than an ordinary man. But he isn’t an ordinary man, she reminded herself, and this whole marriage was the stuff of fantasy.
He gripped her hand tightly as yet more flashbulbs exploded in her face, but this time she felt much less intimidated. She waved away the question of what her family would think or how her brothers would respond. Sustained exposure to something meant that you could get used to it and Rosa found she was even able to smile at one of the more persistent lens men. She felt breathless with nerves and a growing excitement as they walked into the foyer and took the elevator up to the penthouse suite, with Kulal watching her in speculative silence all the while, as if he didn’t quite trust himself to speak. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t going to be scared by what was about to happen. She had wanted adventure, hadn’t she? Well, she had certainly found it!
Still silent, he opened the door to his apartment and Rosa stepped into a huge entrance hall. She had been prepared for luxury and she wasn’t disappointed. Impressionist paintings adorned the walls and she’d never seen so much antique furniture outside of a museum. On dark, wooden floors lay faded silk rugs which looked centuries old and she wondered how many different pairs of feet had walked over them. She thought that a place like this could never really feel like home—or more specifically her home, until she remembered that it was never intended to be.
She found herself trained in the spotlight of his dark eyes as he watched her, like a hunter silently following the progress of its quarry.
‘Drink?’ he questioned.
‘Just … some water would be fine.’
He led her into an incongruously modern kitchen of steel and granite and poured her a glass of ice water which she drank standing up, still in her wedding dress. She noticed that he didn’t drink anything himself, and when she’d put her empty glass down, it was to find him still watching her.
‘I want you in my bed,’ he said simply.
She held her breath for a long moment before she expelled it. ‘Then take me there.’
She could sense the growing tension in his body as he led her through a maze of corridors straight into the biggest bedroom she had ever seen, where vases of crimson roses stood on every available surface, their powerful perfume scenting the air. Tall windows overlooked a perfect vista of Paris, where the Seine was glittering in the afternoon sunlight, and beyond that she could see the arching fretwork of the Eiffel Tower.
‘As you see,’ he said. ‘I have made every preparation for our honeymoon. I have even arranged for the sun to shine.’
Rosa glanced around the room, thinking that it looked gorgeous, but slightly unreal—as if a magazine shoot was about to take place. A vast four-poster bed played host to banks of pillows and shiny cushions and a bottle of champagne stood in an ice bucket on a small table nearby. And now there was nothing to stop them. No curious air crew or officials or intrusive cameras hovering nearby. Now she could give herself up to what she had been aching to experience for so long. She was going to start living the way other people lived, and for the first time in her life she was going to have sex.
She saw that he was staring at her and the pounding in her heart increased.
‘Do y
ou know, I have never seen a woman look more beautiful,’ he said, swallowing down an inexplicable lump in his throat and finding himself surprised by his reaction. Was that because she had resisted him? Because she had not let him have her on the plane? He had never waited so long to have sex with a woman and the postponement of pleasure was making him ache. With a commanding finger, he beckoned to her. ‘Come here.’
The look in his eyes was so irresistible and the yearning inside her so strong that Rosa went straight into his arms.
‘I think it’s time that I undressed you,’ he said unsteadily. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she answered, with shy assent.
First he removed the ruby-and-diamond tiara and put it down on a nearby table and then he unclipped her veil with dextrous fingers and let it slither to the ground.
She closed her eyes as he lowered his head to kiss her and she honestly thought she might pass out with the sheer pleasure of that kiss. She was aware of the powerful scent of the roses and the way his hands were moving over her body, caressing her curves as if he was determined to explore every inch of her. She scarcely noticed him sliding down the long zip of her dress until it had pooled in a circle of lace around her ankles and she was left standing in nothing but her underwear. The cool air rushed onto her skin as he dragged his mouth away to study her and she should have felt nervous, but the expression in his gaze was making her feel anything but nervous. This felt right, she thought exultantly. Like what she had been created for.
‘You look …’ But Kulal’s voice trailed off because, once again, the sight of her had taken his breath away. Her breasts were spilling out of a low-cut white bra and the matching high-cut panties were digging slightly into the soft curve of her hips. He’d never seen a woman who looked so fleshy before and it took a moment before he could compose himself enough to speak again. ‘Exquisite,’ he finished raggedly. ‘The most beautiful thing I have ever seen.’
Rosa reached her hand up to touch his face, his words filling her with confidence as she reminded herself of the woman he had been attracted to—the one who had danced so provocatively on that podium. She had not been shy. So she began to tug at the white silken headdress as if undressing a man was something she did every day of the week. ‘Why are you wearing this?’ she asked as she removed the whole contraption, including the woven golden headband. ‘I’ve only ever seen you in a suit before.’
He took the headdress from her and threw it on top of the tiara. ‘Because usually I prefer to blend in. I find that people are much more accommodating when they think you’re just like them.’
‘But you’re not?’
He laughed. ‘Of course I’m not. I am like few other men—for how can I be? I was born in a palace and reared as a son of the desert. People always see me as a playboy and I can act that role to perfection. But in my heart I am a sheikh.’ There was a pause as he looked at her. ‘And for once I wanted to look like one.’
‘Why?’
There was a pause as Kulal considered her question but the truth was he didn’t know what had motivated him to reach for his thawb this morning, instead of a sleek designer suit. He frowned as he forced himself to remember that this was all for show. That the symbolism of the ceremony meant nothing. ‘For the press, of course.’ He traced his finger over the centre of her cushioned lips. ‘It will make a great picture in tomorrow’s papers.’
Rosa nodded but she could feel a sinking sensation of disappointment. So he had been playing up for the cameras all along. Was that the reason for the kiss on the steps of the embassy, the one which had felt so electric—because it provided a great photo opportunity, rather than because he’d been longing to kiss her as she had him?
But this was what she had signed up for, wasn’t it? An expedient marriage which they could both walk away from.
‘It will make a fantastic picture,’ she agreed, stepping out of the discarded dress and staring up at him, her heart now beating very fast. She was just going to have to forget about her feelings and be the woman he thought she was. That woman would have listened to nothing but the desire which was rising up inside her, making her want to rip off his silken robe and feel his skin beneath her fingertips. And maybe he’d read her mind, for he kicked off his shoes before suddenly peeling the garment from his body in one swift movement, and Rosa gasped when she realised that he was completely naked underneath.
Kulal smiled, for her gasp pleased him—though it was certainly not the first time he had been greeted with such a reaction when a woman saw his body for the first time. He reached down to touch the hard ridge of his erection as he met her startled eyes and gave a lazy smile. ‘Worth waiting for?’
Rosa swallowed down a mixture of excitement and fear because she’d never actually seen a naked man before, but she mustn’t beat herself up about it. She reminded herself that generations of women had started their wedding night in a similar state of ignorance. It might be old-fashioned, but it certainly wasn’t a crime.
‘Definitely,’ she said truthfully, and it was obviously the right thing to say, for he gave a satisfied nod before picking her up in his arms and carrying her over to the bed.
She felt the soft mattress dip beneath their combined weight, and as he lowered his head to kiss her, she was aware of his practised fingers removing her underclothes until she was as naked as he was. He kissed her with a passion which left her breathless—as if he was making up for lost time, and under the sweet and relentless torment of his tongue, Rosa moaned with pleasure.
His hand was on her breast, his fingers tiptoeing their way down over her belly, and suddenly her own hands were exploring him and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. She revelled in the hard planes and muscular lines of his body, which were so different to the fleshy contours of her own. She thought about what had happened on the plane and she wasn’t sure how fast these things were supposed to move, but they seemed to be happening very fast indeed. For a moment Kulal pulled away from her to tear open a little foil packet which was lying on top of a cabinet next to the bed—and maybe he saw her confusion because in the midst of stroking it on, he gave a satisfied smile.
‘I told you that I had everything prepared for our honeymoon.’
He moved over her and she could feel the wetness between her thighs and the slight resistance as he started to push inside her. For a moment he stilled and she prayed that he wasn’t going to stop, so she sank her lips against his shoulder and grazed at his skin with her teeth. And the simple gesture seemed to flick a switch somewhere deep inside him as, with a low growl, he began to move.
It wasn’t anything like how she’d thought it would be. She hadn’t realised that it would feel so … intimate. That the joining of their flesh would make her feel so incredibly close to him. She was pliant in his arms, content to let him lead and to learn from him, so that when he lifted up her thighs she wrapped them around his back. And when his hands slid beneath her buttocks to pull her even closer, she gasped aloud at the sensation of his deeper penetration.
She knew what an orgasm felt like, but the one she experienced now was magnified by the sensation of Kulal deep inside her body and his mouth exploring hers in the most sensual of kisses, his fingers tangling luxuriously in her hair. Sensation ripped through her like a forest fire as every pore of her body seemed alive with a blissful kind of awareness. She felt her back arching helplessly beneath him and dug her nails into his back as the incredible spasms ripped through her. It took a while before she opened her eyes to find him watching her, black eyes narrowed with every sweet thrust he made. And then those eyes became wild and hectic, his movements increasing before he made a guttural cry and slowly came to a shuddering rest on top of her.
For a while she felt dizzy and overcome by the most delicious wave of torpor. Her fingers crept up to his shoulders and began lazily to knead at the flesh there. She wished that she could capture that moment and bottle it, knowing that if she could it would sustain her for the rest of her li
fe.
‘You were a virgin,’ he said at last, breaking the silence.
‘Yes.’ A pause. She prayed that would be enough because she didn’t want to break this delectable mood, but his dark eyes were hard and questioning and, reluctantly, she shrugged. ‘I told you that on the plane.’
Kulal rolled away from the cushioned curves of her body and shook his head. He remembered the first time he’d ever had sex, at the age of sixteen—and afterwards the palace maid had given him a hand-rolled cigarette. He remembered the way the rough tobacco had scorched its way down into his lungs and he had never smoked since, but now he found himself wishing that he could inhale some of that sickly sweet smoke and make himself dizzy.
‘I didn’t believe you,’ he said slowly. ‘You certainly didn’t act like an innocent.’
‘Blame the drink.’
‘And what else do I blame, Rosa? Or should that be “who”?’ He lifted her chin with his finger and the green and gold flecks in the depths of her eyes looked bright and vivid. He saw the uncertainty which flickered across her face, that strange vulnerability which appeared when you least expected it, and he shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re twenty-three years old and you’ve never had sex with a man before today?’
‘I thought we’d just established that.’
‘I’m asking why.’
‘And do you always subject your lovers to questioning, straight after …’ She thought about how best to phrase it. She knew that people called it ‘making love,’ but there’d been no love involved in what had just happened, had there? ‘Straight after having sex with them?’ she finished baldly.
‘Up until now, no. But then up until today I’ve never had a virgin—or a wife, come to that.’
A Whisper of Disgrace Page 8
