by Fiona Brand
Her heart sped up at the offer. The sensible thing, of course, would be to call a taxi but the instant she considered that option, she knew she wasn’t going to take it. “If you could drop me, I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Gabe picked up a set of keys he must have placed on a side table.
As he opened the door, she noticed an oil painting of a man dressed in robes on the wall. “Is that the sheikh?”
He glanced at the painting, but didn’t seem inclined to linger. “Yes.”
The painting had obviously been done when the sheikh was a lot younger, but even so, with his clipped beard and wearing traditional robes, it was difficult to see exactly what he looked like. He didn’t look a lot like the man Graham had been talking to at the reception, but with the facial hair it was hard to tell. “Are there any paintings of Sheikh Kadin?”
Gabe went very still as he held the door for her. “The first Sheikh Kadin?”
She stepped out into the corridor, distracted by the sudden curtness of his tone. “I didn’t realize there was more than one.”
Gabe pressed a button on a sleek, private elevator and gestured that she precede him. “The name reoccurs practically every second generation in the sheikh’s family.” He pressed the button for the ground floor. “The name is also popular on Zahir, mostly because it’s linked with prosperity.”
She frowned at the flatness of his tone. “You don’t sound overly impressed by the first sheikh.”
“It’s ancient history.”
“And an ancient love story.”
The doors slid open. Gabe waited for her to exit first. “According to tradition.”
Her head came up at the implication. “You don’t think love was involved?”
Gabe indicated a gleaming Jeep Cherokee situated at the far end of the cavernous garage, next to the doors. “Kadin was broke, Camille was wealthy. What are the odds?”
Even though she had entertained similar thoughts about Kadin’s motives, she frowned as they strolled through the dim shadows. After reading Camille’s very personal revelations about how strongly she had been attracted to Kadin, she couldn’t help taking his comments personally. “So I suppose you think that just because Kadin was a knight and good-looking, Camille was lucky to get him? That the money somehow made up for her defects?”
He came to a halt beside the Jeep, his expression enigmatic. “Let’s just say that if Camille hadn’t been traveling with approximately a metric ton of gold and jewels that history would probably have taken a different turn.”
He opened the door for her, his consideration taking the sting out of his words and dampening down the knee-jerk urge to spring to her ancestor’s defense. His hand cupping her elbow as she climbed into the passenger seat further distracted her. After Graham’s dismissive treatment, Gabe’s manners and the feeling that while she was with him she was the absolute focus of his attention were a much-needed balm.
Feeling breathless, she fastened her seat belt. As Gabe swung into the driver’s seat, the cab of the Jeep seemed to shrink, suddenly claustrophobically small and disturbingly intimate.
Sarah attempted to relax as Gabe accelerated out of the garage into the murky night, but the easy camaraderie of earlier in the evening had evaporated. Bludgeoned out of existence by her usual bluntness, she thought grimly.
Minutes later, when he pulled into a parking space on the road above her rain-drenched cottage, her stomach tightened at the knowledge that whatever she and Gabe had shared would be over in a matter of seconds. “Thank you for the lift.”
She fumbled at the door handle, but before she could push it wide, Gabe swung out of the cab and walked around to hold the door. Rain swirled down, shimmering in the pooling light of street lamps as she retrieved her bag.
Once she was out, Gabe closed the door with a discreet thunk. “I’ll see you to your door.” A beep and flash of lights indicated that he had locked the vehicle.
Feeling breathless and chilled after the warmth of the cab, Sarah led the way to her porch with its single glowing light. She paused in the shelter of the wide, old-fashioned porch and extracted her house key from her bag. A moment later, she pushed the door wide. The house was softly lit and comforting, with lamps burning in the sitting room. Warm air flowed out, making the night seem even colder and damper.
She glanced at Gabe, suddenly awkward. A restless part of her wished for the boldness that had arisen out of nowhere earlier in the evening. She longed to have the confidence to do what she had planned and fling herself into a wild, passionate affair, to curl her fingers into the soft lapels of his jacket, go up on her toes and kiss him. But as nice as Gabe had been in looking out for her and giving her a lift home, she was determined not to make a fool of herself by misreading the situation. “Thank you for everything. I’ll collect my car in the morning.”
“No problem.” He produced a card from his pocket and scribbled a name and number on the back of it. “Xavier will be gone, but a receptionist will be there. She’ll have your keys.”
She took the card, careful not to touch his fingers, and tucked it in her bag. “You’re leaving first thing?”
“I have business to attend to on Zahir.”
A little desperate that he was about to leave, she searched for a reason to detain him, if only for a few seconds. The question that had consumed her earlier, resurfaced. Heart beating a rapid tattoo, she lifted her chin. “Why did you follow me when I left the lecture?”
Something flared in his gaze, the electrifying intensity she had been aware of at the reception, as if he were searching for something intangible but utterly necessary to him. As if he had found that necessary quality in her.
His gaze connected with hers. “I couldn’t let you go.”
The words sent a bolt of pure sensation through her. In that moment her mind cleared on the whole issue of risk. She had gone out tonight specifically looking for a wild fling to break herself out of the emotional rut she’d fallen into. Her mother would count it a victory if Sarah married Graham. In Sarah’s mind that would be the ultimate relationship train wreck because Graham would never give her the one thing she craved: true love.
But with Gabe, on some instinctive level, she knew the opposite to be true. The connection sizzled between them. She could see it in his eyes, feel it with every cell of her body. There was no logic or sense to it. They barely knew each other, and yet she knew in her heart that something deep and essential was right between them.
He was edgy and utterly male, and he’d been ready to go to war for her. At times he had been grim and remote, but there had been a softness and humor she had loved. She didn’t know him, and yet every instinct she possessed informed her that he was everything and more she wanted in a man.
He was perfect, and in a few minutes she was going to lose him.
She drew a swift breath. “Don’t go. Not yet.”
Four
Gabe said something low and soft then his mouth was on hers.
Heat and sensation seared through her, time seemed to slow and stop as she lifted up on her toes, wound her arms around his neck and fitted herself more fully against him. She logged the solid wall of muscle that was his chest, the warmth of his arms as he pulled her in close, the firm swell of his arousal.
The kiss was soft and lingering and the intimacy of it rocked her. She had been kissed before, more times than she could count, but in other kisses she had been aware of an element of recoil in the process. Either she didn’t like the way her date touched her, his taste or smell, or she didn’t like her date, period.
There had been times when she had wondered if she was the tiniest bit frigid, but with Gabe the details that registered were all on the plus side. He smelled clean and male and delicious and his touch and taste shivered through her senses, making her feel boneless and weak. While eve
ry other kiss she’d ever experienced had been wrong in some way, this kiss was somehow right, filling her with an absorbing, dissolving heat so that she wanted to press herself even more firmly against him.
His mouth lifted then sank again, taking her under. Dimly she was aware of the strap of her handbag slipping off one shoulder. Misty rain swirled around the enclosure of the porch, triggering disorienting flashes of the sensual dream she had experienced just that morning.
Gabe lifted his head. His gaze locked with hers. “If you want me to leave, you should say so now.”
The cool separation when only moments before she had been held against the muscled heat of his body was faintly shocking. He wanted her. That thought alone was enough to anchor her, when for years she had felt rejected as a woman and intrinsically undesirable.
Now she knew that none of those past relationships had been right because she had been waiting for the deep connection she needed. It had never happened with anyone else, but through some strange alchemy it had happened with Gabe.
The knowledge filled her with dizzying relief. She had begun to think she was odd, different, that she would never marry, never have the warm family chaos, the husband and babies that were at the center of most of her friends’ lives. She had begun to believe that she would never be truly loved.
It was a huge leap to go from one kiss to thinking that Gabe could be hers. Making love with him would be a risk, but not making love would be an even bigger risk. She might miss her only chance to feel this way—loved and desired by the man of her choice.
Sarah touched Gabe’s jaw, loving the rough feel of his five-o’clock shadow. Drawn by an impulse that had its roots in the dream, she allowed her fingers to drift over the smooth, ridged scar that marred his cheekbone.
Something flared in his eyes, gone almost as swiftly as it had appeared, then his mouth was on hers. A split second later, the world went sideways as Sarah found herself swung into his arms.
One step and they were inside her house. She heard the door slam shut then they were moving.
Gabe lifted his head. “Which way is the bedroom?”
She indicated a left turn. Moments later he carried her into the dim shadows of her room lit only by the lamplight washing down the hall and the glow of a streetlight flowing through her window. Setting her down, he shrugged out of his jacket, letting it drop to the floor. He kissed her again, drawing her against him as he slowly drew the zipper that fastened her dress down the sensitive curve of her spine. Cool air circulated against her skin as she stepped out of the dress and set to work on the buttons of Gabe’s shirt, although that work was momentarily halted as Gabe dispensed with her bra and cupped her breasts.
Long dizzying seconds passed as he bent and took first one breast, then the other into his mouth, the sensation pulling every muscle tight and starting a heavy ache low in her belly. Despite the coolness of the air against her skin and the chilly sound of the rain on the windows, heat flushed her skin making her feel restless and hot.
Lifting his mouth, Gabe dispensed with the remaining buttons of his shirt and shrugged out of it, before pulling her close. Drawing in a breath at the seductive heat of skin on skin, Sarah coiled her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers, the kiss deepening as he walked her backward to the bed. She felt the soft give of the mattress at the back of her knees then she sank back onto the down-filled white quilt, Gabe sprawled beside her.
He moved over her, his weight pressing her down. Little more than fifteen minutes ago she had been on the verge of saying good-night out on the porch, now they were on the verge of making love. Disorientation hit her at how fast things had moved, but the night had an odd dreamlike quality and the dizzying intensity of emotion that burst through her with every touch of his hands, his mouth, was too addictive to relinquish.
She felt his fingers tugging at her panties and shifted restlessly, helping him strip them down her legs. The faintly rough weave of his pants brushed against her sensitive skin.
Frustrated that while she was naked Gabe was still half dressed, she reached down and tugged at the fastening of his pants. She dragged the zipper down and felt the blunt, silky shape of him in her hands. He muttered something taut beneath his breath as he moved between her legs. A split second later she felt him lodged against her. Hot, irresistible sensation burst through her as she instinctively pressed against him, inviting him deeper.
He tensed and attempted to withdraw but, utterly mesmerized by a burning maelstrom of sensation, Sarah’s arms coiled tighter as she pressed closer still. An agonizing second later he shoved deep and the irresistible, coiling heat shimmered and dissolved along with the night.
* * *
Long minutes later, Gabe propped himself on one elbow, his gaze in the darkened room brooding and reflective. He stroked one fingertip over her tender bottom lip in a lingering caress that sent a shiver through her. “How likely is it that you’ll get pregnant?”
The question was shocking. Although it was a possibility Sarah had been turning over while she’d attempted to adjust to the intimacy of what they’d just done and the shameless way she had pressed herself against him before he’d had a chance to use a condom.
The possibility of an unplanned pregnancy. It was not a problem she had ever thought she would face. Along with the thought of a pregnancy and all that entailed, Gabe’s practicality in asking the question brought her back to earth with a thump. For long minutes she had been caught up in her own very private fantasy, but with every second that passed it was becoming increasingly obvious that Gabe did not share her longings.
She swallowed against the sudden ache at the back of her throat and made an effort to dismiss the hurt. She needed to be as practical as Gabe. She had wanted to make love and they had. It had been a huge risk and, whatever the outcome, she refused to regret what had happened.
A baby. The thought that in the past few minutes they could have made a tiny human life together was stunning.
Gabe might have no interest in anything more than an interlude, a one-night stand, but if there was a baby, Sarah would want it. She loved kids and adored babies. She had always wanted at least one of her own, and the way things had been going she had begun to think she would never be a mother.
She drew a deep breath. Gabe’s silence spoke louder than words, there was no way he wanted the complication of a baby. Since he was leaving in the morning, and he hadn’t indicated that he was coming back to New Zealand, she had to assume that it was entirely possible that they would never see each other again. “Don’t worry about a baby. It won’t be a problem.”
If she was pregnant, it was too late now; it was done. And if Gabe did not want an actual relationship with her then so be it. She would take sole responsibility for the child.
Gabe cupped her jaw, his gaze intent. What he saw in her eyes must have satisfied him. “I’ve never done that before, so you don’t have to worry about STDs.”
She suppressed the sharp hurt that Gabe was clearly used to making love with women, and the jab of guilt that he obviously thought she had taken care of contraception. “Ditto.”
Something like relief flickered in his gaze. “Good.”
As Gabe climbed from the bed and drew the curtains against the rain still spattering the windows, it registered that he hadn’t noticed she was a virgin. That small point shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow it did. Although, with the swiftness with which they’d come together, Gabe probably hadn’t had time to process anything beyond the fact that they’d had unprotected sex.
As he peeled out of his boots and pants, items she hadn’t given him time to fully dispense with, Sarah surreptitiously pulled back the quilt and shimmied beneath it.
Gabe, who was in the process of tearing open a foil packet, prevented her cover up by the simple expedient of stripping back the quilt. “Don’t,” he said softly. “
I want to remember you like this.”
The finality of the words—as if they’d already said goodbye—struck her forcibly.
Despite her innate caution, while they’d been kissing, undressing, hope had formed. She and Gabe would swap numbers. He would call her from Zahir and somehow they would form a relationship. And maybe, just maybe, sometime in the misty future there would be the possibility of something real and enduring.
Tension gripped her as she watched Gabe sheath himself in the dim light. With his biceps bronzed and gleaming, chest and abs tautly muscled, he was beautiful in a fierce, completely male way and she wanted him.
But he wasn’t hers. The truth was there in the faint remoteness of his gaze, a subtle distance she could feel even in the midst of passion.
As he joined her on the bed, she propped herself on one elbow and looked directly into his eyes. “Are you married?”
“No.”
Relief filled her. “Good.” She suspected that Gabe wasn’t as free as he seemed but she didn’t want to know that there was a girlfriend or significant other back on Zahir. If there was, what was between them obviously wasn’t strong enough to hold Gabe. To her mind that meant it wasn’t love.
Love. The concept burned through her, initiating a new tension. Everything she had felt for Gabe had been new, intense and passionate. She drew a swift breath as the reality hit home of how affected she had been by him. She didn’t see how anyone could fall in love in the space of a few hours, but she had.
Her chest squeezed tight. Swallowing the impending hurt, the silly desire to cry, she leaned down and kissed Gabe, her hair sliding like a curtain around them.
The thought that she could be pregnant already made her feel even more unsettled. As his hands moved to her waist, drawing her down to him, she forced herself to forget about the possibility of a pregnancy, forget about the fact that Gabe was leaving.
If they only had one night, she was determined that it would be a night to remember.
