Layth’s body surged with adrenalin and desire. He had the advantage. He’d surprised her.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready?” She was eating him with her eyes. Staring at him as though she hadn’t eaten in a month and he was a buffet of sweets.
“You are coming with me.”
“I am?” She looked over her shoulder but Blondie was staring forlornly into his scotch. He seemed to barely realise Cassie was there anymore. “What makes you so sure?”
The look he gave her was pure sizzling challenge. “Let me put it another way. I am walking out that door now. With or without you. It is your choice.”
Cassie stared at him, her shock and uncertainty unpalatable in her mouth. She didn’t like the way he made her feel. Her cheeks flushed. Except sexually. Sexually he made her feel very good. But conversationally, she was forever wrong-footed. He wanted her, but he wanted her to acknowledge her own dependence too. He was only willing to put himself out on the limb so far.
Cassie recognised the self-preservation technique because she herself had employed similar on many occasions. She retained the upper hand in every relationship in her life. Except with Melinda. Her friendship with Mel was the only ‘real’ interaction she had.
“Fine.” She shrugged, hoping she came across as nonchalant. “Have a good night.”
She turned back to the bar, her insides quivering with dashed hope. No matter how great he was in bed – or out of it, as it had been with them – no man was worth being made to feel insecure over.
He was still there. As with the night in his apartment, she could feel his presence. She spun around, preparing to confront him.
But he was gone.
Her body lurched painfully; acid formed in the pit of her belly.
She’d been wrong. Layth Sati had walked out of the bar and out of her life.
She closed her eyes on the wave of complete disappointment. Pride cometh before a fall. Wasn’t that the expression? Well, she’d certainly let pride rule her behaviour. And while she might be gratified in time, in that moment, she was riddled with regret.
“I think I’m done.” It was Colin. Quiet now. Subdued.
“Me too.” She grimaced up at him. “Shall we head out?”
He nodded. Neither had any intention of going further than the street together.
“Do you need to say goodbye?” She nodded towards his friends.
“Nah,” he grinned, but it was wistful. “They’ll think I’ve picked you up. They’ll be happy with that.”
“Glad I could be of service.” They stepped out of the bar together, Cassie with her hands linked in front of her.
“I’m glad I met you.” His eyes linked with hers. “Another time, another place, I’d probably have tried my luck with you for real.”
She shrugged. “Another time, another place, I might have said yes.”
“Can I get you a cab?”
She scanned the road. “I’m okay. I might walk a bit.”
“Walk? It’s late.”
“So?” She shrugged. “I like to live on the wild side.”
He looked at her dubiously, but the set of her features convinced him she wasn’t likely to easily change her mind. “I’ll walk with you.”
“Ah.” She clutched her hands to her chest in an exaggerated gesture of gallantry. “A true gentleman.”
“I try,” he murmured.
“I’m fine. Truthfully, I just want to be alone.”
He exhaled softly. “I don’t know …”
“Colin,” she burst out laughing. “I’m in Mayfair, not Brixton. And it’s ten o’clock, not three in the morning. And you’re just a very nice guy I met in a bar, not my mother.”
“Fine. Just … try to look after yourself.”
He raised his hand and a passing taxi pulled up instantly. “Good night, Cassie.”
“Good night.” She stepped closer as he climbed into the cab. “And Colin?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t know if I even believe in love. But I do believe that the only time you should even think of promising yourself to someone for the rest of your life is if they deserve you. And she didn’t deserve you. I hope you can realise that, and forget about her.”
His eyes sparkled with self-deprecation. “Maybe. The flip side of love, though, is loyalty. And it’s a bugger of a thing to shake.” He sank into his seat and lifted his hand in a farewell.
Cassie crossed her arms over her chest and began to move down Oxford street. It was a strange beast, for in the afternoon, she could barely make progress owing to the number of people milling in the entrances of the stores. Now, late at night, there was the occasional drifter, a couple of very drunk teenagers, and her. Alone and lonely-feeling, for the first time in years.
She focussed her gaze in the direction of Hyde Park. Lights sparkled between her and it’s green gates, and it reminded her of the Christmas lights that would soon – in a matter of months – adorn the street. Spangled across the buildings like decorative spider-webbing.
But for now, it was dark and it was empty, completely devoid of festive cheer.
Or maybe that was just her.
She groaned into the silent solitude.
What had she done?
Why had she let him go?
Because he would own you. Her inner-voice was speaking the truth. A man like Layth Sati was powerful, and he was always in charge. Of everything. It wasn’t possible to imagine that she could see him again without giving a part of herself to him.
She bit down on her lower lip mercilessly, and her eyes scanned Oxford street. Her home was in one direction, and in the other was Layth.
Her body flickered with hope.
Layth.
Pleasure-giving, handsome, desirable Layth.
She made a sound of frustration and raised her hand.
“Where to?” The cab driver asked when she slid into the seat.
That, she thought to herself, was a very good question.
4
The sky was tinged with orange and purple streaks. It glowed as though someone had enjoyed squishing peaches and mulberries across its width. Usually, such beauty would have earned if not his appreciation at least Layth’s admiration. Nothing inspired more awe from him, generally, than nature at its finest. And a stunning day was yolking across London.
Layth was not in any kind of mood to marvel at it, however.
He was fuming.
He hadn’t slept.
And he felt a growing wave of frustration in his body.
So the interruption, and so early, of a knock at his front door, brought a stern frown to his face. He stalked across the suite, aware that he was at risk of losing his temper at one of his agents.
He yanked the door inwards, and focussed his steely gaze on the short dark haired staff member beyond. “Yes?” Imperious and impatient, he glared down at the man.
“I am sorry to bother you, sir, but there is someone to see you.” The guard’s eyes flicked sideways, as if looking for snooping reporters. He leaned forward by a minuscule amount. “It is a woman.”
Layth’s brows raised. He refused to jump to conclusions. “Yes?”
“I was not sure if I should … It is early, and I obviously did not want to …”
“What is her name?” Layth interrupted swiftly.
“Yes, sir. Cassandra Walton, sir.”
Walton. He smiled at the little bit of information one of his guards had managed to snoop out.
“Shall I bring her up?”
Layth looked at him quietly. The temptation to deny her was strong. After all, she’d denied him. But other needs were supreme. “Yes. Immediately. Have my diary cleared for the day.”
“But sir, you have …”
“I don’t care if I’m having tea with the Queen of England herself; you will cancel it. And do not question me again.”
The guard was stricken, and Layth, if he was another man, might have fe
lt a sense of compunction. He didn’t though. He walked back into the apartment and waited.
The guard summoned her and Cassie stood immediately. Another two men moved to flank her on either side and the sight of their guns added a new sense of nervousness to her already overwrought body. The lift sailed upwards, giving her no option but to go with it.
Had it been a mistake to come to him? Was she going to regret this?
The doors pinged open and her gaze landed on him immediately. He was standing across the room, watchful and silent. His eyes were cold as they collided with hers. The two guards stepped when she stepped, and would have moved with her the entire way to Layth except that he stalled them with a single gesture of his hand. It was effective in dismissing them; as if by magic they began to silently retreat.
Cassie waited until she heard the doors click shut and then exhaled. “Nice friends you’ve got.”
His lip lifted in acknowledgement of her comment.
She’d changed. The sexy dress she’d been wearing the night before was gone. He had imagined her always in sky-high heels and tight, revealing outfits, but today she was wearing a pair of fitted black pants, ballet slippers and a floaty shirt with a floral print. Her blonde hair was loose and hung half way down her back. She looked delicate and lovely.
But none of that penetrated the fog of realisation. She had changed. Had she gone home with the insipid looking man from the bar? Had she slept with him? Layth had no reason to doubt it. Not after the speed with which she’d come to him.
He stayed perfectly still, even when she moved to stand just in front of him. So close he could smell her soft, sweet fragrance.
“What are you doing here?” He asked finally, his accent thicker than usual.
Her throat worked overtime as she swallowed anxiously. “Good question.” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, a gesture that both fascinated and infuriated him.
He stayed silent, waiting for her to answer.
“You asked me here.”
He lifted one brow, his expression dark. “Yes. Last night I asked you here.”
More swallowing. Her face showed pain and confusion before she stamped it out. “I didn’t realise the invitation had an expiration. I can go, if you want.”
Her pride, the pride she’d tried to protect the night before, was being battered.
He studied her face, his black eyes seeking answers in her features. Answers to which she did not know the question. “Have you come to me from him?”
“From who?”
His face was thunderous. “That man you were leaning all over in the bar.”
“Colin?” Her tongue darted out and traced an outline of her lips. “No.”
The initial surge of relief was tempered instantly by doubt.
“I do not find it easy to believe.”
She nodded, her chest hurting. “I see.” And she did. Layth had every reason to think her capable of what he was accusing her of. “Then I might as well go.”
She was numb. Why had she come to him? What had she thought would happen? She didn’t know this man. Not really. They’d spent a few hours together, a week earlier. That was it.
Oh, what a fool she was! She walked with her head held high, determined that he wouldn’t see she was upset. He’d thrown her completely off-balance. She didn’t know what she wanted nor how to get it.
“Stop.” His voice was commanding. She wished she could ignore it but something in his tone had her turning slowly to face him.
He stalked to her, like a panther on the hunt for its prey. His chest was moving rapidly. She dragged her gaze to his face. Without the advantage of her heels, the height difference between them was marked.
“I don’t want you to sleep with other men. Not while we are … together.”
Her heart turned over. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” She said it as a reminder to herself, as well as him.
“I am not offering one.” He was, God knew, not in a position to. “If we are to sleep together, then I want to know it is with me alone, for as long as it suits me, and as long as it suits you.”
Again, she chewed on her lower lip, and he reached up to brush his thumb across her mouth. “I do not want you going to bars dressed like you were, attracting the attention of other men.” His fingers slipped beneath her shirt and lifted it high enough that he could touch her bare skin. “Your body belongs to me or this will not work.”
Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
“Don’t you?” His smile was a gentle rebuke. He dropped his head so that he could kiss the flesh at her neck.
“No.”
“While I am in London, I would like you to come here. To me. Do not go looking for meaningless sex with other men.”
“When I can have meaningless sex with you, you mean?”
His brow furrowed. “You are the one who stipulated to that. You were very clear that you wanted only sex.”
“Yes.” She nodded. And if she hadn’t? Would he have offered more? Would she have wanted it? Speculating on hypotheticals was a fool’s game, one she wouldn’t fall victim to.
“It is one of the reasons we are matched so well. It is all I want from you, and so I welcomed your pronouncement.”
Why was her stomach rolling? She had the feeling she was signing away something vitally important, and yet she couldn’t comprehend what.
She forced an overbright smile to her face. She was being ridiculous. This incredibly gorgeous man was offering more of the fabulous pleasure they had already shared. She’d be a fool not to take it with both hands. She didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t want love. Look at poor Colin! A man who’d reached for love and ended up broken-hearted and alone.
Love was a bitch.
“I didn’t sleep with Colin.” She couldn’t have said why, but she needed him to believe her. “I wasn’t looking to meet someone last night. I went out because it’s what I do. It’s a habit.”
He stifled the urge to question her choice of attire, if she’d truly wanted to be alone.
“Colin’s fiancé had just left him. His friends urged him to approach me, but we just talked. He was clearly heartbroken, and I was interested in chatting to him. Nothing happened.”
Layth ignored the pressing of relief in his gut. It should not have caused him such pleasure to know she had not lain with the man. “As we are confessing things, I have something to tell you.”
“Oh?” Her heart stuttered. Curiosity was replacing blood in her veins.
“I paid the barman two hundred pounds to alert me when you came in.”
She burst out laughing. The admission was so utterly unexpected that it completely broke through the ice of her heart. “You aren’t serious?”
“Yes. After you threw my card away, I knew it was the only way I would see you again.”
“How did you know?” She gasped, her eyes wide.
He nodded towards the windows.
“Uh huh. I see.” She lifted her hands to his chest, feeling so much better now that he’d admitted how badly he wanted to meet her again. “I didn’t want to learn your number. I didn’t want to call you again.”
“Where is your phone?”
She thought about questioning him, but she was quickly learning that Layth Sati always got what he wanted and so she slipped it wordlessly out of her back pocket.
He swiped the screen then tapped into it. A noise rumbled from another room. “Now I have your number. And you have mine.”
A shiver ran down her spine. She had the sense he wasn’t just talking about the phone.
“You will stay with me today.”
“Will I?” She thought of the mountain of work she had to do; appraisals to verify and insurance quotes to oversee.
His eyes widened. “Yes.”
“I have another question for you first.”
He shrugged, confident that he’d won. He’d won her. She would be in his bed until it no longer suited him. H
e didn’t question his sense of relief – he simply relished it.
“Who are you?”
“Layth Sati. You know this. And you are Cassandra Walton.”
Her cheeks dusted with a becoming shade of pink. “I mean who are you to have a little army stationed downstairs.”
“Ah. That would take some more explaining.”
She gasped when he reached down and scooped her up, cradling her against his chest. He carried her as though she weighed little more than a feather, through the apartment and into a bedroom with spectacular views from enormous windows. He released her onto the bed; not gently, but with purpose.
“Well? Are you going to explain?” Her words were husky, her breathing rushed.
“I am going to have you now. I have been waiting since you left for this pleasure. I do not wish to wait any longer.”
Cassie pushed up on her elbows, tempted to argue. But she could feel the throbbing heat between her legs, and instead, she collapsed back and laughed. “No point in pretending it’s not what I want too.”
His smile was a reward. It was beautiful and enchanting. “Good.” He pulled her pants from her body quickly, tossing them to the corner of the room. She lifted up so that he could ease her shirt over her head.
“This is how I like to think of you. Naked. If I had my way, you would be always naked with me. Ready for my possession.”
She groaned at his sexy words; the imagery sent her pulse into overdrive. She was lifting her hips, despite the fact he was still clothed. She needed him badly.
“Undress me,” he commanded, stepping back from the bed.
Cassie’s heart was racing. Her fingers were shaking as she lifted his shirt over his head. His chest was so toned; his muscles so defined. She couldn’t resist darting her tongue out and tracing circles around his nipples. She felt his shuddering intake of breath and smiled. Her hands fumbled with the button of his pants, as she pushed them lower. She had to crouch to the floor so that he could step out of them. His erection was at her eye level. She flicked her gaze up to his face; his expression was pinched, his face flushed. She ran her fingers the length of his penis, and then wrapped her lips around it. He groaned as her warm, moist mouth surrounded his arousal.
Clare Connelly Pairs: Warming the Sheikh’s Bed & Love in the Fast Lane Page 4
