A Diamond for the Sheikh's Mistress

by Abby Green

  When he loomed up over her he looked like a god. A dark, sexy, dangerous god. His muscles gleamed with sweat and she could smell his arousal—and hers. And even though her body wanted to float on a sea of bliss after that orgasm, when she heard the snap of latex and looked down to see Zafir’s hands on his straining erection, need gripped her like a vice again. He made her insatiable. Greedy. She felt as if she’d been starved of some vital thing and was only now realising how empty she’d been.

  He came down over her and aligned their bodies. She could see nothing else but him, feel nothing else but him. He surrounded her utterly.

  After a breath he thrust into her body, deep and hard and unequivocal. As if stamping his brand on her. Kat breathed in the sheer expanse of him, awed at the way he filled her so completely. It was all at once familiar and altogether new. It was exquisite.

  For a heart-pounding moment Zafir stayed embedded in her like that, as if he too was savouring the moment. And then something inside Kat broke apart. She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, arching upwards. And as he started to move in long slow strokes in and out of her body’s tight clasp, she gave herself over to the sensations racing through her body, rendering her mute.

  His movements quickened and became less controlled, he reached for her left thigh and brought it up, holding it firmly, deepening his penetration. Kat was only aware of the pinnacle of pleasure beckoning. It came at them like a steam train, blasting them apart and then welding them back together as Zafir’s big body slumped over hers. They were so joined at every possible point, Kat wasn’t sure she’d ever been a separate entity.

  She fell into an exhausted slumber under Zafir’s weight, unaware of him moving off her and standing up from the bed, looking at her as though he’d never seen her before.

  * * *

  Zafir was still reeling a few hours later as he looked out at the dawn breaking over the Paris skyline. The storm had passed—a storm he’d only been peripherally aware of. He felt as if a bigger storm had just happened in this hotel room.

  In him.

  He could see the shape of Kat on the bed in the reflection of the window, her elegant curves, her breasts...

  He turned around and looked at her properly, his gaze inevitably tracking to her left leg, where it ended so cruelly short. He could see the faint imprint of his hand on the pale skin of her thigh, where he’d obviously gripped her in the throes of the most urgent lust that had ever gripped him.

  As if hearing his thoughts, she moved minutely on the bed, and Zafir’s chest tightened when he saw how her left leg instinctively wanted to stretch out. He wondered if she experienced the ‘phantom limb’ that people spoke of, when they could feel the pain of their amputated limb even though it wasn’t there any more.

  Seeing her like this... It made him feel so many different emotions he wasn’t sure where one started and the other ended. But mostly he felt angry that she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him. And, worse, that she’d clearly expected him to turn tail and run.

  But then, he had to concede heavily, why would she have thought otherwise? After all, he’d pursued her relentlessly after seeing her model lingerie on a catwalk. Why wouldn’t she believe that he was shallow enough to value physical perfection over anything else?

  He shook his head. Sex with Kat had always been amazing. So amazing that it had prompted him to track her down again. But this...what they’d just shared...had reached a whole new level. He didn’t remember it ever being so carnal or so visceral. He’d literally had to have her...or die. Sinking into her that first time had impacted on him on a level where sex never usually did.

  He went cold as the significance of that sank in. It had felt like coming home. But not in the way that returning to Jandor always felt like coming home... This had been far more profound and disturbing. It had felt like coming back to a place he’d longed for without even realising it.

  Zafir’s immediate reaction was to negate this revelation as a lust-induced delusion, but the truth was harder to deny.

  Things with Kat had morphed out of all recognition. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she’d been hiding the truth that she was an amputee. It had everything to do with the fact that after having sex with this woman closure had never seemed more distant.

  He dragged his gaze back up her body to her face. She was awake now, and looking at him with wide golden eyes. And just like that desire returned—urgent and swift.

  Her gaze tracked down his body, obviously taking in his helpless physical reaction. Her cheeks coloured as she said in a sleepily husky voice, ‘You showered...’

  For a second Zafir warred with his emotions and tendrils of panic growing inside him. This was so far beyond what he’d expected to experience with Kat again that he wanted to tell her that last night had been enough. He wanted to walk out through the door and never look back. Because suddenly things weren’t as simple as he’d thought they would be.

  But that urge to leave curdled in his belly.

  He didn’t want to leave. He wanted her.

  Compelled by a force stronger than he could deny, he twitched his towel off his hips and stalked back to the bed. He lay down alongside Kat and touched her thigh, seeing how something in her eyes veiled itself.

  ‘I marked you...’

  She looked down and saw his handprint. Her hair hid her face as she said in a slightly breathless voice, ‘It’s okay...it doesn’t hurt.’

  Zafir scooped her hair over her shoulder and tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. She was wary, but he could see the heat in her eyes. He kept his eyes on hers as he moved so that he was between her thighs...his erection notched against the place where she was hot and wet. Ready for him.

  It was too much. Zafir didn’t have a hope as he gave in to the raging desire inside him, blocked out all the warning voices and slid home. Again. And again. Until he was reduced to rubble and the voices were mercifully quiet.

  * * *

  Kat woke up surrounded by steel and heat. She couldn’t breathe. Panic gripped her and she instinctively thrashed out, flailing uncontrollably.

  She vaguely heard a sound, but it took long seconds for her to realise that Zafir had all but pinned her to the bed and was now looming over her saying, ‘Kat, relax—it’s me... You’re okay.’

  She went still, even though panic still raced through her blood. Eventually it dissipated and she asked shakily, ‘What happened?’

  ‘You were lashing out...screaming. “Get it off me! Get it off...”’

  The first tendrils of understanding sank in, quickly followed by embarrassment. She breathed deep. Zafir’s very naked body was over hers, but even that couldn’t distract her from the fact that she’d just had the same nightmare she’d had for months after the accident.

  She pulled back from Zafir’s embrace and he let her go reluctantly, as if he knew she needed space but didn’t want to allow it.

  She struggled to find a way to explain herself. ‘I’m sorry... If I feel claustrophobic it brings back the accident...when I was trapped under the truck.’

  Zafir reared back. ‘I make you feel claustrophobic?’

  Kat was shocked at the hurt she heard in Zafir’s voice. ‘No...no. I’m just not used to waking up in bed with someone.’

  Kat realised that part of it was disbelief that Zafir was still here—that she’d woken in his arms. The claustrophobia lingered, but it had nothing to do now with traumatic memories and everything to do with feelings rising inside her that she didn’t want to analyse, like a coward.

  She sat up and avoided his eye. ‘I think I’ll take a bath. Could you pass me my robe, please?’

  Zafir said nothing for a long moment, and then he got out of the bed, unashamedly naked, and handed her a silken robe. Kat watched him walk into the bathroom and registered the sound of water running. She quickly pulled on the robe, covering her own nakedness, and scooted to the edge of the bed.

  Zafir reappeared in the doorway, sti
ll naked. Ridiculously, Kat felt like blushing and she blurted out, ‘Could you hand me my crutches?’

  Zafir strode over, saying, ‘You don’t need your crutches.’

  He was about to bend down and pick her up into his arms but Kat put out her hands, heart thumping treacherously at the innately masculine reaction.

  ‘No, Zafir, I can do it myself.’

  He drew back and looked down at her, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. ‘Very well.’

  He went and retrieved her crutches from the other room and Kat pulled herself upright on them, making her way into the bathroom, burning with self-consciousness. The only people who had seen her like this were medical professionals and Julie. Not a lover. Not Zafir.

  She didn’t want to turn around to see what might be on his face and she shut the bathroom door behind her, feeling alternately stronger than she’d ever felt but also weak. As if she’d scored some useless point.

  She turned off the taps of the bath and disrobed, carefully stowing the crutches and lowering herself into the steaming, fragrant water.

  The water lapped around her and a sense of déjà vu struck her as she recalled the last time she’d had a bath and where her mind had gone. She couldn’t stop the images of the night they’d just shared from circling in her head like a lurid movie.

  When he’d come back to the bed as dawn had broken they’d made love again. He’d pulled her over his body so that she was straddling him, and just before he’d thrust up into her body he’d asked, ‘Is this okay? Are you comfortable?’

  She’d nodded, aghast at how overcome she’d felt in that moment. She’d never seen this far more tender and gentle side to Zafir before. Even though there was nothing tender or gentle about their lovemaking.

  She’d been so...uninhibited. Sex with Zafir had never felt like this. Before, she’d always felt somehow...aware of herself. Aware of all the women he’d been with before her and of her inexperience. It was as if a wall of glass had separated them, and no matter how skilful Zafir had been Kat had never lost herself completely, always holding some part of herself back.

  But last night had been different. She’d lost herself completely. There’d been nothing between them but heat and lust and desperate need. It was as if she’d undergone some seismic shift.

  There was a knock on the door, making her jerk upright. ‘Kat, are you all right?’

  Her voice sounded strangled as she called out, ‘Fine. I’m fine.’

  Zafir scowled on the other side of the door. Everything in him burned to go to her. He could imagine Kat’s naked body all too well—slick and wet, droplets of water beading on her nipples...

  He paced back and forth, aware of his body responding to his imagination. Cursing softly, he pulled a towel around his waist, as if that could douse his desire.

  She’d looked so proud just now, walking into the bathroom on her crutches, back straight and tall. The stark reality of what she’d gone through had impacted on him all over again. It had almost but not quite eclipsed what he’d felt when she’d told him she felt claustrophobic. Hurt. An emotion he’d only ever felt around his siblings when they’d used to shut him out.

  Hurt was not an emotion he welcomed. He’d always liked and respected Kat, but he’d never claimed to love her. He wanted no part of that—not after seeing his brother so destroyed by it.

  Once again Zafir felt the urge to just walk away. Consign this to the status of a one-night stand. A slaking of lust. But even as he thought that he knew it was a lie. His body burned for her. One night would never be enough.

  Just then there was the sound of splashing and a muffled curse. Zafir didn’t even think. He walked straight into the bathroom.

  Kat was sitting up in the bath and she looked at him. All he saw was gleaming pale skin and those glorious breasts rising from the water.

  ‘I heard...something...’ he said, feeling ridiculous.

  ‘I just dropped the soap.’

  Kat’s cheeks were pink. Her hair was piled high, but long tendrils clung to her skin. Giving up the fight, Zafir muttered a curse and dropped the towel from around his hips, seeing Kat’s eyes widen as she took in his helplessly rampant response.

  Zafir was climbing into the bath before Kat could react. She squeaked as he settled himself behind her, making water slosh over the edge of the bath. ‘What are you doing?’

  His arms were around her, pulling her back against his broad chest, and the past and present meshed painfully for a moment, reminding of her of many such shared moments before.

  ‘Zafir...’ she protested weakly.

  ‘Yes?’ Zafir started to lather his hands with soap and then spread them over her body.

  ‘You don’t have to do this...’ Kat tensed her body, trying to hold back the emotion she was feeling.

  Zafir’s hands stilled. He angled himself around to see her face. ‘What is it?’

  Kat shrugged, as if this wasn’t a big deal. ‘I just... This kind of thing has been so far from my mind... I certainly never expected that when the time came it would be you...’

  Her heart beat fast. This was the closest she could come to trying to articulate the tangled feelings in her breast.

  ‘And are you glad it’s me?’

  Kat knew now that she was in serious trouble, because experiencing this reawakening with him was more profound than she liked to admit. Not that she could tell him that. Not when to him this was just an affair to gain closure.

  She shrugged again and said—as nonchalantly as she could when he was at her back, surrounding her in heat and desire, ‘You’re a good lover, Zafir...’

  A good lover.

  Zafir curbed his tongue. How did she manage to make that sound almost insulting? As for the thought that she would have let some other man see her for the first time as she was now... Zafir didn’t even want to contemplate that scenario.

  He concentrated instead on washing Kat’s body with an explorative zeal that would soon make her admit that—what? What did he want her to admit? Zafir suddenly wasn’t sure...

  But then he felt Kat start to soften against him, her back arching against his chest, her body moving restlessly under the water, and as he found the slick centre of her body and made her moan he told himself he didn’t care. This was all he cared about. Here and now.

  It was enough. It would be enough.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SOME HOURS LATER Kat was dressed and ready to go, but she was delaying her exit from the bedroom to join Zafir in the suite, where he’d gone to make some calls, because the full significance of the previous night and everything that had happened was sinking in fully—and very belatedly. As if she’d been blocking it out until now.

  Just thinking of Zafir’s easy acceptance of her secret and how tender he’d been was overwhelming. At every step when she’d expected him to look at her in horror, turn and walk away...reject her...he’d done the opposite.

  A flashback came of sweaty limbs entwined, his hand hard on her thigh, clamping her in place so he could thrust even deeper...

  Kat felt a fine sweat break out over her body.

  To say she was raw and exposed was an understatement. She hadn’t felt like this since the aftermath of the accident. It was as if he’d torn her apart and put her back together, and now she wasn’t sure who she was any more.

  The thought of that grey gaze narrowing on her made her pace back and forth now, gnawing at a nail. A bad habit she’d cut out years before.

  Zafir had effectively demolished every wall she’d erected around herself last night, and now there was nothing left to hide behind. The knowledge that she’d been using her leg as a defence mechanism to keep him at a distance was not welcome. And the thought of another night like last night was terrifying.

  She was very much afraid he’d effortlessly expose things that she wasn’t even ready to admit to herself yet. Like how far he’d burrowed under her skin again. Like how much she yearned for him to look at her as he had before, when she’d done no w
rong in his eyes.

  He’d used to look at her and say, ‘I can’t believe someone like you exists in this world...’

  A curt rap on the door stopped Kat in her tracks.

  ‘Kat? Are you ready? My car is waiting to take us to the airport.’

  To take them to Jandor. Back to the place where Kat had realised just how ill-suited she was to become a permanent part of Zafir’s life. And yet she’d tried to convince herself it would be all right.

  Her recent thoughts and revelations still reverberating in her head sickeningly, she walked to the door and opened it. Zafir filled her vision. He’d changed into a charcoal suit and looked regal and impressive.

  Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, ‘There’s something I need to say before we leave.’

  Unfazed, even though Kat could imagine the veritable army of people waiting for them to leave, he just said, ‘Okay.’

  She was glad of her slim-fitting trousers and silk shirt. She wanted to send out a no-nonsense vibe.

  She walked into the suite and turned around to face Zafir, steeling herself. ‘What happened last night won’t be happening again.’

  Even as she said it she could feel her heart give a betraying lurch. And between her legs pulsed as if in protest.

  Zafir leant his shoulder against the doorframe and folded his arms. He raised a brow. ‘And why would that be?’

  Kat wanted to pace, but forced herself to stand still and sound cool and blasé. ‘Because last night was enough for me. And, in any case, Jandor is hardly an appropriate location for the King to be conducting an illicit affair with someone who is eminently unsuitable.’

  Zafir straightened up from the wall, his gaze narrowing on her just as she’d feared. ‘You never did like Jandor.’

  Kat thought she detected a note of bitterness in his voice, and she responded defensively. ‘That’s not true. From the moment I first saw it from the plane I thought it was magical...’

  Zafir looked sceptical.

  ‘It’s true,’ Kat said, less vehemently now, afraid of revealing too much. ‘I loved Jahor too. It was just... The palace was so huge and intimidating.’