‘SHALEF.’ Kristi hadn’t realised that it would hurt so much to say his name.
Cool grey eyes raked her slender form, lingered briefly on the soft curve of her mouth, then slid to meet her own. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’
She dug deep into her resources and managed to display a measure of ease, all too aware of the rapid pulse beat at the base of her throat. ‘Would there be any point if I refused?’
‘None at all.’
He moved into the room as she stood to one side, and his expression hardened as he saw the open suitcase on the bed.
‘You’re leaving?’
She looked at him carefully, seeing the inherent strength, the indomitable power that allowed him to shape life in the manner he chose. ‘Yes.’
The silence in the room was such that it almost seemed a palpable entity, and her nerves stretched until they felt as taut as a finely strung bow. The sensation angered her unbearably, and she silently damned him for being able to generate such havoc.
He looked at her for what seemed an age, his eyes dark, their inscrutable depths successfully shielding him from any possibility of her gauging his emotions.
When at last he spoke, he appeared to select his words with care. ‘We need to talk.’
There wasn’t a thing she could say that wouldn’t sound inane, so she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
‘I’ll be in London for a month, then I fly to Paris,’ he revealed. ‘I want you with me.’
The breath caught in her throat and threatened to choke her.
‘No comment, Kristi?’ he queried with a degree of mocking cynicism.
‘As what?’ Was that her voice? Even to her own ears it sounded impossibly husky. ‘Your mistress?’
He didn’t answer for several long seconds. ‘There are many advantages.’
The tissues around her heart began to tear. Her eyes met his and held them without any effort at all. ‘I won’t be content with second best, waiting for a stolen night or two whenever you could slip away.’ She was breaking in two, and the pain was so intense that she was sure it must be clearly visible to him. Her throat began to ache with the constriction of severe control. ‘I would rather not have you at all.’
‘Then marry me.’
For a moment she was robbed of the ability to speak. ‘Why?’ she demanded at last. Her eyes clung to his, searching for some hint of passion, any intensity of emotion by way of reassurance.
‘You’re a rarity among women of my acquaintance,’ Shalef said with quiet emphasis. ‘Intelligent, courageous. Equally at ease among the social glitterati as you are with my Bedu friends in the desert.’
She closed her eyes in an effort to veil the pain. ‘That’s hardly a reason for marriage,’ she managed slowly.
‘You refuse?’
She looked at him carefully, wanting, needing so desperately to accept, yet knowing that if she did she could never be content with good sex and affection as a substitute for love.
It would be so easy to say yes. To accept what he offered and make do with it. Yet she wanted it all, and he wasn’t ready to give it.
‘I’m flying back to Australia on the early-afternoon flight. Shane is already in Sydney, and it is more than time we both attempted to attend to business.’
‘You know I will follow you.’
She looked at him with clear eyes, the pain hidden deep beneath those liquid brown depths. ‘Please don’t.’ Not unless you love me, she added silently.
‘You are prepared to discard what we have together?’
It will kill me, she thought. ‘Without love there is very little to discard.’
She was mad, insane to consider turning him down. A faint bubble of hysteria rose in her throat with the knowledge that she had to be the only woman on any continent in the world who would consider rejecting Shalef bin Youssef Al-Sayed.
Yet, if she accepted him now, it would be akin to accepting a half-measure. Most—dear heaven, all women of her acquaintance would be content with less. To have him in their bed, access to his immense wealth and the rewards it would bring would be enough.
‘You offer me everything,’ Kristi said slowly, and was unable to prevent the faint, husky catch in her voice. Deep inside she felt incredibly sad. She’d hoped for so much, prayed that he would say the words she desperately wanted to hear. ‘Everything except your love.’ Her eyes searched his, hoping to pierce the inscrutable barrier and discover a depth of emotion that was based on more than just desire for her body.
‘I want, need to be more to you than just a woman gracing your arm, a hostess in your home.’ She paused, then added quietly, ‘A mistress in your bed.’
There wasn’t so much as a flicker in his expression to give any visible indication of his feelings. It angered her unbearably, making her want to rage, shout, hit him in order to get some kind of reaction.
‘I asked you to be my wife.’ The words were softly spoken, yet deadly, and she shivered inwardly as a sliver of ice slid down the length of her spine.
She lifted her head, tilting her head fractionally in silent challenge. ‘To bear your sons?’ Inside she was slowly dying. ‘If you plant only the seeds of daughters in my womb, will you cast me aside for another wife who might sire the son you desire—you need to uphold the coveted name of Al-Sayed?’
Icy rage flared briefly in his eyes before it was quickly masked. ‘You would lead an envied lifestyle.’
She thought of Nashwa and her daughters, and knew she could never be meekly accepting of such subjugation.
‘It isn’t enough,’ Kristi offered with incredible sadness, aware that life without him would be like dying a very slow and painful death. ‘When I marry, I want to believe it will be for ever. That I am as important to the man I accept as my husband as he is to me.’ Her eyes felt as if they were drowning in unshed tears. ‘Above all others. Beyond material possessions.’ The ache in her throat was a palpable lump she dared not attempt to swallow. ‘I need to know I am everything you need. All you ever want.’ She felt boneless, and in danger of falling in an ignominious heap at his feet.
‘You ask for guarantees, when with human emotions there can be none? Assurances are only words, given at a time when the head is ruled by the heart.’
‘I feel sorry for you, Shalef. True love is a gift. Priceless.’
‘I do not require your sympathy,’ he declared with an infinite degree of cynicism.
‘No,’ she agreed bravely. ‘You do not even require me.’ It almost killed her to voice the words. ‘My position in your life, your bed will be easily filled.’
His eyes narrowed fractionally, their depths so darkly unfathomable that it made her feel immeasurably afraid. ‘You play for high stakes.’
Her chin lifted, and it took every ounce of strength she possessed to keep her voice level. ‘The highest.’
‘And if you lose?’
Kristi was aware of her fragile hold on her emotions. Afterwards, she could cry. But not yet. ‘Inshallah,’ she said with quiet simplicity.
A tiny flame leapt in his eyes, flaring briefly before being extinguished beneath the measure of his control.
For one infinitesimal second she thought that he might strike her, so intense was his anger, then she silently damned a vivid imagination. He could employ a far more effective method of retribution if he so chose, without resorting to physical violence.
‘You try my patience.’
There were words she could have uttered, but they were meaningless phrases, and not worth uttering. ‘Please.’ She lifted a hand, then let it fall helplessly down to her side. ‘I have to finish packing.’
His eyes resembled dark shards of slate as he thrust one hand into his trouser pocket in a tightly controlled gesture.
‘You want me to leave?’
‘Yes.’
His facial muscles tensed over sculptured bone.
‘As you please. But first—’
He reached for her, and she froze, her eyes widening with an apprehension that had little to do with fear as he lowered his head to hers.
The touch of his mouth was soft against her own, and she was unaware of the tiny, inarticulate sound that emerged from her throat as the edge of his tongue made an exploratory sweep over the full curve of her lower lip.
She wanted to cry out, Don’t do this to me. A treacherous warmth invaded her veins, firing her body with a passion that she knew she’d never experience with any other man.
It was like drowning, descending with exquisite slowness into a nirvana-like state where reality faded into obscurity. There was only now, and the wealth of sensation that he was able to evoke.
Her body shook slightly as she fought against giving a response, and she felt the ache of unshed tears as he alternately teased and cajoled, pressing home with each small advantage gained, until her mouth aligned with his in involuntary capitulation.
A despairing groan rose and died in her throat as he deepened the kiss, possessing, demanding, invading in a manner that made her body tremble, and she clutched at his shoulders in a desperate bid to cling onto something tangible as he swept her into an emotional void from which she doubted she could emerge intact.
His passionate intensity was almost a violation, and when he released her she stood perfectly still, afraid that the slightest movement would rend every crack in her crumbling composure.
Part of her wanted to scream, Go; get out of my life before I break into a thousand pieces; the other part wanted to beg him to utter the necessary words that would bind her to him for ever.
His eyes were dark and partly hooded, making it impossible to read anything in his expression.
Lifting a hand to her face, he trailed a forefinger lightly over the swollen curves of her mouth, then traced a path along the edge of her jaw and back again.
For what seemed an age he simply looked at her, imprinting on his mind her delicate features, the flawless skin, waxen-pale from the intensity of her emotions, the wide-spaced, fathomless deep brown and topaz eyes, and the bruised softness of her mouth.
Then his hand dropped to his side, and he turned towards the door, walking to it, through it without so much as a backward glance.
The sound of the lock clicking into place proved the catalyst for the release of her tears, and she stood exactly where he’d left her as their flow trickled to each corner of her mouth, then slowly slid to her chin.
Kristi stayed locked into immobility for a very long time, then something stirred within her, providing her with sufficient strength to turn and walk back into the bedroom, where she methodically completed her packing.
She even managed to bathe her face and apply fresh make-up before crossing to the in-house phone and alerting Reception that her bags were ready to be taken down.
‘Thank you, Miss Dalton. A car is waiting.’
One last check round the suite, then she caught up her shoulder bag and moved out into the hallway. The lift transported her down to Reception, where she was informed that her account had already been settled.
Her fingers shook as she put away her credit card then handed over the key. Shalef. Like the sleek Bentley parked by the kerb outside the main entrance, with its boot open ready to receive her luggage, it represented a final gesture. A silent, mocking attestation to what she had given up.
Kristi stepped through the revolving door and out into the cool air, and the chauffeur opened the rear passenger door.
She didn’t hesitate as she crossed to his side. ‘Please thank Sheikh bin Youssef Al-Sayed for his kindness,’ she said firmly, ‘and tell him that I chose to hire a taxi.’
The chauffeur paled with concern. ‘Miss Dalton, I have strict instructions to drive you to the airport and assist you through Customs.’
She offered a faint smile of dismissal. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘The Sheikh will be annoyed.’
‘With me,’ she clarified. One eyebrow rose in wry amusement. ‘I don’t imagine his instructions included bundling me into the car against my will?’
‘No, Miss Dalton.’
‘Then you are exonerated from any blame.’ Turning away, she spoke to the porter and had him beckon a hovering taxi.
Within minutes it pulled out into the flow of traffic and Kristi leaned back against the seat and stared blindly out of the window. There were people briskly walking on the pavements, coats caught tightly closed against the cold. And it began to rain, settling into a heavy deluge that diminished visibility and set the wipers swishing vigorously back and forth against the windscreen.
In less than twenty-four hours she would touch down to warm summer temperatures, soft balmy breezes, and home. The prospect of seeing Shane again, and a few very close friends, should have evoked anticipatory pleasure. Instead, she was filled with a desolation so acute that it became a tangible pain, tearing at her insides and leeching the colour from her face.