by Alison Kent
She exceeded all his expectations, Kemal realised, relishing every nuance in Lizzie’s expression as she climbed to a plateau so high even he hardly knew how she sustained her hold upon it without tumbling off. She had been so very cool, ice-cool, and now he watched as her face flushed pink with arousal. Only he could have guessed what lay beneath the frigid façade.
‘Stop, stop…No, I mustn’t—’ she protested huskily, trying not to lose control; it seemed so very wrong.
‘Why? Why mustn’t you?’ Kemal demanded softly, giving her all his attention again. And then he decided to tantalise her a little more, by holding her arm above her head and kissing her breasts, before finally transferring his kisses to bring her the release she craved.
She cried and moaned in his arms for ages afterwards, while he held her close, stroking her until at last she was calm. ‘Didn’t I tell you it would be good for you?’ he murmured wryly when finally Lizzie grew quiet. And when she said nothing Kemal pulled back to look at her, and saw she was asleep.
‘Lizzie…Lizzie…’
The voice came from far away, down a long, dark tunnel of sleep.
It wasn’t an angry voice, or muffled, like her parents when they were locked in their den. No, Lizzie realised with surprise, it was Mrs McConnell from next door.
‘Lizzie, dear, what are you doing?’
The little girl looked up, worried because she knew she was doing something wrong, but still eager to share her plans. Mrs McConnell was always kind to her, always smelled so good. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs McConnell, but we don’t have holly on our side of the fence. And yours has got such lovely bright red berries.’
‘Look at your hands.’ Mary McConnell made a sound of concern as she bent low to take hold of two grubby fists in her own workworn hands. ‘You’re all scratched and bleeding, Lizzie. No need to ask whether your mother has any antiseptic, I suppose?’
‘She has magic mushrooms. Maybe those—’
‘Heaven protect you, child!’ Mary McConnell exclaimed with alarm.
And then later, when they were in the food-scented haven of Mrs McConnell’s kitchen, she asked, ‘And what were you going to do with my holly, Lizzie?’
‘I wanted it for Christmas,’ Lizzie explained, forcing in a last bite of mince pie even before she had swallowed the first. ‘I saw your decorations and so I knew it must be time—’
‘No need to hurry, Lizzie,’ Mrs McConnell said, in that soft voice of hers, which made Lizzie painfully aware of how hungry she was, and how hard she must try not to seem so. ‘I’ll send you home with a batch of mince pies, and then you can share them with your brother and your parents—when they wake up,’ she added under her breath.
She wasn’t supposed to have heard that, Lizzie realised, watching Mrs McConnell bite her lip to stop the flow of words. Now she had swallowed down the last delicious crumb, Lizzie’s attention was drawn back to the kitchen table, loaded with freshly baked pies. ‘Couldn’t I stay here with you for Christmas, Mrs McConnell?’ she asked, already anticipating the refusal that was sure to come. ‘The baby too…I could bring Hugo with me. Mum would never notice—’
‘No, dear,’ Mrs McConnell said softly. ‘I’m afraid that’s just not possible.’
‘Please!’
Of course she hadn’t begged, Lizzie recalled, tossing restlessly in the half-world between sleeping and wakefulness. She had just slipped down from the kitchen stool, placed her hand in Mrs McConnell’s and, with the box of mince pies tucked safely beneath her arm, walked dutifully back with her kindly neighbour to her own house. But she had so wanted to stay with Mrs McConnell. She would have loved nothing better than to stay and help her put up the last of the decorations, finish the tree…
Lizzie groaned as she snapped her face away from the reflection of her younger self’s pale, resigned face in the hall mirror at Mrs McConnell’s home. It was like seeing someone else altogether—a stranger—someone she wanted to reach out to and help, but couldn’t. She started thrashing about in angry frustration on the bed.
‘Wake up, Lizzie…wake up.’
The low voice grew more insistent. A man’s voice—one the child didn’t recognise. But the woman Lizzie did.
‘You’ve had a bad dream, Lizzie,’ Kemal said, bringing her into his arms. ‘But it’s all over now. You’re safe here with me,’ he said, murmuring against her hair. ‘You’ll be all right now.’
Would she? Lizzie wondered, dashing the tears from her eyes. Would she ever be all right?
CHAPTER NINE
BACK in her own fabulous suite of rooms at the palace, Lizzie sat on the bed with her head in her hands. Had she lost every semblance of self-respect and control? No wonder the nightmares had returned. She had allowed herself to be seduced by a cold-blooded man who meant nothing but harm to her family. And Hugo was her family—her only family; Hugo, her brother—had she forgotten him?
And she hadn’t even been properly seduced. A contemptuous sob escaped Lizzie’s lips at she remembered her behaviour. She was a freak, a bumbling, unsophisticated idiot where sex was concerned. And she had let Kemal humiliate her. How could she have allowed it to happen?
Kemal Volkan. She need search for no other answer. A wave of panic rose in Lizzie’s chest as she thought about him. Just the image of his face in her mind sent shock waves racing through her. Kemal had stirred fires she had never guessed might be inside her. But they were destructive fires. She came. He saw. He conquered. Some stand she’d made! And when she’d finally woken up this morning, after suffering one of her worst nightmares for years, he’d already left her. Too much trouble for too little return, she suspected.
Lizzie buried her head in her hands, wondering what she might have called out during her nightmare. She knew that by revealing the demons she lived with to Kemal she had made herself look like a victim—something she had always refused to be.
Kemal Volkan was one of nature’s predators, and she had rolled over for him in every way that a woman could roll over for a man. What an outstanding victory! She would have to be sure to try those tactics in court some day. She had certainly learned some bitter lessons in Istanbul, Lizzie reflected. And Hugo still wasn’t home. But she would get him home for Christmas, whatever it took. Firming her lips, she went to find her phone.
For once the lawyer she had found in Istanbul, Sami Gulsan, answered immediately. He advised Lizzie to sit tight, stay calm and do nothing other than leave her phone on until she heard from him again. The situation had been dealt with, he said reassuringly. But Lizzie refused to be reassured. It was about time someone knew exactly what kind of man Kemal Volkan was.
She was forced to cut the conversation short when she heard the door open.
‘Kemal!’ Springing up, Lizzie backed away instinctively. There was a look on his face that frightened her.
‘Don’t end your call on my account,’ he said.
Putting the phone down on the table beside her, Lizzie stood tensely—waiting.
Kemal stopped a few feet away from her and Lizzie saw that he had a sheet of paper tightly clutched in his hand; so tight, in fact, his knuckles had turned white.
‘What’s that?’ Lizzie said.
‘Honour,’ Kemal told her. ‘A shining example of your idea of honour.’
Lizzie flinched as he flung the paper at her feet. Swooping down, she picked it up and read quickly, backing away at the same time to put some urgently needed space between them. It was a hand-delivered document written in English from Lizzie’s lawyer, Sami Gulsan, questioning Kemal about her illegal imprisonment. Gulsan demanded her immediate release, and added that a claim for damages would shortly follow.
‘There is nothing in this letter that I am ashamed of,’ Lizzie said, looking up. ‘Far from impugning my honour, it shows yours in a poor light, don’t you think?’
‘Did you really imagine you could make money out of this situation?’ Kemal demanded contemptuously, when she had finished.
‘Money?’ Lizzie exclai
med. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘If it wasn’t the money, then what—what made you stoop to this?’ Kemal said icily.
‘It has nothing to do with money,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’m perfectly within my rights to consult a lawyer if I choose—’
‘Your rights!’ Kemal turned away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her a moment longer.
‘I consulted a lawyer regarding my position,’ Lizzie said, addressing his back. ‘So what? Are you telling me you wouldn’t have done the same?’
‘I might have chosen my lawyer with a little more care,’ Kemal replied, turning back to face her again. ‘I might have exercised diplomacy, for instance.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just this,’ he bit out. ‘You went behind my back and consulted with a lawyer who represents my strongest competitor.’
‘But how could I know?’
‘That’s the point,’ he said icily. ‘You don’t know anything, but you continue to meddle in things you know nothing about. What do you think Gulsan will do with this information? He’s no friend of mine. Another thing you don’t know is that as one of the major creditors I was given first option to buy the company Hugo works for. Now Gulsan has pushed my competitors into submitting a counter-bid.’
‘But I couldn’t possibly have known that—’
‘Fortunately,’ Kemal continued, ignoring her, ‘they were too late. My deal was too far down the line. But, had it not been, you could have spoiled it for me.’
Lizzie looked at Kemal, shaking her head slightly in bewilderment.
‘Yes,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘In spite of your best efforts, I agreed terms some time earlier.’
‘Agreed terms?’ Lizzie repeated in a dry voice. She wanted to stop up her ears. She wanted to stop him speaking. But he went on relentlessly.
‘I agreed terms to buy the company Hugo was working for out of receivership the morning after you arrived.’
‘You…did…what?’ Lizzie stared at him openmouthed. Ice streamed through her veins and into her heart as she realised everything this information meant to her.
‘That meeting I had to postpone when I came back to the palace to see you?’ Kemal reminded her brusquely. ‘Luckily I was able to hold it by conference phone. And just as well I did. But I had no idea until I received this letter from Gulsan that it was you who had betrayed me.’
Lizzie stared at him in disbelief, barely hearing his last words. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had bought the company?’ she asked hoarsely.
‘I am not in the habit of discussing my business decisions with anyone. I make them; I execute them. It’s that simple.’
Lizzie felt each of his statements as a physical blow. She couldn’t believe anyone could be so callous. She had to be sure. ‘You knew all along that the situation was resolved,’ she said, ‘and yet you allowed me to make a fool of myself. You used a situation you knew didn’t exist any longer to force me to stay—’
‘Force?’ Kemal cut across her harshly. ‘You were in no hurry to leave, as I remember.’
‘You used me,’ Lizzie accused him bitterly, ‘and you abused my trust. What kind of person are you?’ Her mind was in turmoil as Kemal went on listing her supposed offences. Finally, Lizzie could stand no more of it. ‘How dare you accuse me of ruining your plans? If you had told me the truth in the first place this would never have happened!’
‘I am not in the habit of discussing my plans. My business is my affair.’
‘And me?’ Lizzie demanded tensely. ‘What about me, Kemal? What about us?’
‘Us?’ he said, stiffening.
‘Oh, I see,’ Lizzie said bitterly, determined at all costs to maintain her composure. ‘There is no us. There is only Kemal Volkan, The Sultan: the man who uses everyone for his own ends. You manipulated me, Kemal. You led me to think that you were as much a victim in all of this as my brother, when all the time you were controlling the situation. You seduced me—’
Kemal’s contemptuous laugh, short and harsh, cut her off. ‘You were eager to be seduced.’
Lizzie cheeks flared red and she grimaced with disbelief. ‘Where is Hugo?’ she demanded furiously. ‘What have you done with him, Kemal? Tell me where he is,’ she warned, ‘or never mind calling a lawyer, I’m calling the police.’
‘Oh, no, you’re not,’ he said, catching hold of her wrist as she went for her phone.
‘Get off me!’
He ignored her.
‘You disgust me!’ Lizzie raged, trying to shake him off.
‘That’s not what you said last night,’ Kemal reminded her roughly.
‘You’re contemptible! You made love to me, knowing how things were. I demand to see my brother.’
‘And so you shall,’ Kemal assured her in a low, fierce voice.
Lizzie whipped her face to one side so that she would not have to stare any longer into his wolf-grey eyes. ‘Will I share Hugo’s cell?’ she challenged him derisively.
At once she felt Kemal tense, felt it in every tissue by which they were connected.
It was as if every inch of him was balled up, ready to spring to the defence of his honour, Kemal realised. There was not a single insult left for her to throw at him.
His grip on Lizzie’s arm tightened as he brought her closer still, but rather than keeping her face averted as he expected, she snapped around to blaze a look of defiance straight into his eyes. She was more than a match for any man. For him?
Kemal wasn’t sure if that thought pleased him or not, he was still too busy deflecting her insults.
‘Hugo isn’t in a cell,’ he said. ‘He has never been in a cell—he was in a camp out in the wilds, where my new factory is being set up, yes. But now, as you never allow me to forget, it’s almost Christmas, so he’s due to land with his workmates at Heathrow round about—now.’ As he released her to check his watch, Lizzie lurched back and away from him.
‘You bastard!’
Kemal stared at her in shock.
‘You knew all along that my brother was in no danger!’
‘Danger! What kind of man do you take me for?’
‘The worst—the very worst,’ Lizzie assured him.
‘Then why are you still here?’
Lizzie stared at him, speechless with disbelief. ‘Because you kept me here.’
‘I have never tried to stop you leaving,’ Kemal said. ‘Do you want to go so badly?’
‘Damn right!’ Lizzie agreed. ‘And I want transport out of here—’
‘No problem!’ Kemal cut across her with an angry gesture. ‘My private jet is standing on the tarmac in Istanbul. Why don’t you use that?’
As the executive jet soared high above Istanbul, Lizzie felt her emotions might overwhelm her. It was a battle to keep the expression on her face neutral for the sake of the flight attendants.
Her time in Turkey had been an absolute disaster. Instead of returning home with her mission successfully accomplished, she was returning home as the villain of the piece. And her brief affair with Kemal Volkan had left a wound so deep she knew it would never heal.
Kemal was right about one thing, Lizzie conceded wryly. She would never forget this Christmas. And what about Christmas Day? She still felt numb. Maybe it would be better to sleep through it—let this one be the Christmas she never had.
‘Hugo? Can you hear me?’ Kemal demanded. ‘Isn’t it about time you got yourself a decent mobile phone?’
‘Kemal! Is that you? How can I help you?’
‘This isn’t about business. It’s personal,’ Kemal said tersely.
‘Personal?’
Kemal heard the wariness in Hugo’s voice in that one word, but he had to press on. ‘It’s not about you,’ he said. ‘It’s your sister.’
‘Lizzie?’
Hugo’s anxiety proved how much he loved his sister, Kemal realised. ‘Yes, Lizzie,’ he said.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘She’s been here with me in Ist
anbul…’
‘I should have known she would jump on the next flight,’ Hugo said. ‘I should never have called her. The line was so bad—’
‘It’s too late to worry about that now,’ Kemal said, cutting across him. ‘I couldn’t get hold of you at the camp, otherwise we could have talked sooner—I could have reassured you. If the weather hadn’t been so bad, and communications so poor, I would have let you know that she was here. But she’s OK, Hugo. She’s on her way back to England right now in my jet. Will you be there?’
‘Yeah—sure. But I’m not at the flat.’
‘I gathered that,’ Kemal said, hearing a girl in the background. ‘Can you go somewhere private to talk?’
‘It’s important, I assume?’
Kemal heard the subtle change in his voice. ‘Yes, it’s important,’ he said.
‘Give me a minute.’
Kemal pulled the receiver away from his ear and waited until Hugo came back on the line. ‘I’m afraid I have to talk to you about your past,’ he said. ‘And I need answers, Hugo.’
‘OK,’ Hugo said, but Kemal sensed his reluctance.
‘I’d like to start with your childhood,’ he said.
‘Not much to tell,’ Hugo said evasively. ‘What do you want to know?’
How to get the most out of him? Why should Hugo put the family skeletons on show for him? Kemal wondered, his mind racing. ‘Tell me about Christmas,’ he said, choosing the direct approach.
‘Any bar will do,’ the younger man said flippantly.
‘Hugo, this is serious,’ Kemal said quietly. ‘Why does Christmas mean so much to Lizzie?’
‘Does it?’
‘Don’t stonewall me, Hugo,’ Kemal warned. ‘Why does she wear those damned glasses? Why does she have nightmares? Why does she call out in her sleep? What happened to her, Hugo?’
‘I’m sorry, Kemal, I don’t want to talk about it.’
Kemal forced himself to wait. He had to give him space. ‘Did you often see Lizzie upset when you were younger?’ he said at last. ‘Did she ever tell you why she was crying?’ There was a long silence, and every moment he expected Hugo to cut the line. But he didn’t.
