Читать книгу The Desert Prince / The Playboy's Proposition: The Desert Prince / The Playboy's Proposition - Jennifer Lewis - Страница 12

Celia almost fell off her chair. Except she couldn’t move at all, because the blood drained from her body, leaving her brain empty, sputtering.

“I’ve shocked you.” Salim sat back in his chair. “With the wisdom of hindsight I can now admit I couldn’t love my wife. Maybe we could have grown into it slowly, as many people do, but she couldn’t stand that I wasn’t. romantic.”

He inhaled deeply, chest rising beneath his shirt. “How could I be, when my heart still belonged to someone else?”

Two steaming plates of grilled yellowfin tuna materialized in front of them. Celia blinked at hers.

“Come on, eat. The past is the past and there’s nothing we can do about it.” Salim picked up a fork and speared his fish.

Celia managed to pick up her knife and fork and slice a piece of the tender flesh. She struggled for a way to turn his stunning revelation back into a normal conversation. “Does that happen a lot here, where arranged marriages are common? You know, people having romantic relationships with someone they can’t marry, then having to go marry someone else?”

“Sure.” Salim nodded and chewed. “All the time. But it’s usually restricted to a quiet flirtation at a coffee shop, or in the poetry section of a bookstore, not the full-on, sleeping together kind of arrangement we had. That’s simply not possible here.”

“Do you think that’s better?” She kept her eyes carefully on her plate.

“It certainly would have been in my case. I might have been a happily married father of four by now.”

“You could still marry again.” She spoke casually, as if to reassure him that she didn’t care one way or the other.

“I intend to.”

Celia’s eyes widened. Salim simply took a bite of fish.

Why had he invited her to dinner and brought up the past? Her breathing was shallow. What did he want from her?

“The thing is—” he lifted his glass “—I’m honor-bound to continue the family name. I don’t have a choice but to marry again.”

“You’d marry just to have a child?” Celia worked hard to keep her voice even.

He nodded, his dark gaze unwavering.

You already have a child.

If there was a perfect moment to tell him, this was it. She glanced around. Several tables were within easy earshot, and Salim’s staff hovered all around.

No way could she drop a bomb like that here. She had no idea how he’d react.

“You think me old-fashioned.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “But the failure of my marriage is my one big regret. I spend my days building a hotel empire, but if I died tomorrow, there’d be no one to hand it to.”

“Hardly a big worry.” She concentrated on her food, afraid to show him the panic in her eyes. “I’m sure you have a long life ahead of you. You’ll have the heir you hope for.”

She frowned. Would he consider a girl—illegitimate and American born—to be his heir? Probably not.

“Your confidence in me is inspiring. But then it always was.” His soft gaze made her belly shiver. “Shame I didn’t live up to it.”

The confession—his admittance of guilt—touched her deeply. She had a sudden, typically feminine urge to smooth any ruffled feathers and reassure him. “What nonsense. You’re one of the most successful men on the planet.”

“You did say I’d succeed in business. I wasn’t at all sure. I didn’t speak English nearly as well as my brothers since I was educated at home while they went to school abroad. I wasn’t comfortable around strangers.” He rested his elbows on the table and studied her face. “But I grew very comfortable with you.”

His voice lowered with what might be mistaken for a hint of suggestion.

She racked her brain for something to diffuse the tension thickening in the air. “I’ll take some of the credit for improving your English. We used to stay up half the night talking.”

“We had a lot to talk about.” A hint of suggestion flickered across his striking features.

“True. I’d never met someone who read the entire New York Times from cover to cover every day. That’s a lot of material.”

“And you showed me that there’s more to life than what you can read in the papers.” A smile lit his eyes. “Do you remember the time you took me to the circus?”

She laughed. “How could I forget? You said the camels reminded you of home.”

Salim’s eyes narrowed. “They did. And when I was with you I forgot my home. I didn’t think about where I came from. I was busy discovering new worlds and exploring them with you.”

Celia blushed. “We were both virgins. Funny, isn’t it?”

“Not really. I don’t suppose that was as outrageous as we were led to believe. It did mean the first time was special for both of us.”

His soft voice and tender words pulled at old chords of emotion. “Very special. And funny, too, considering that we’d approached it like explorers, armed with an illustrated Kama Sutra and a list of suitable positions.”

Salim chuckled. “We did have a tendency to over intellectualize everything.”

“We thought we were so darn smart, and that we could understand everything if we just thought about it and talked about it long enough.”

“So true!” A smile tugged at his bold, sensual mouth. “No topic was off-limits.”

“Well, except that you were going to take off and marry someone else.”

The words fell from her lips, the accusation she’d never been bold enough to make. She was so shocked and hurt, at first. When they met again she was so surprised and delighted by their renewed connection that she didn’t want to bring up the painful past.

Salim frowned. “You’re right. I did avoid the subject of my future. I didn’t like to think about it myself.” His gaze drifted over her face, to her neck, which flushed under his attention. “And why would I, when it meant losing you?”

They hadn’t talked much about his family at all. She’d assumed he didn’t want to be reminded of the home that was so far away he only saw it once or twice a year.

He’d spent several weekends at her mom and dad’s house and stayed with them once over spring break. Her parents had thought him sweet and funny. Being professors they were used to international students, many of whom stayed and settled in the States. They didn’t think anything of her boyfriend being from another country.

It hadn’t occurred to any of them that he had an entirely different life mapped out for him, thousands of miles away.

One that didn’t, and never would, include Celia.

Salim’s penetrating gaze locked onto hers. The flush rose over her face, and she let out a quick breath. “It might have been easier if I was prepared.”

“How do you prepare to end a relationship?” He frowned. “I couldn’t prepare for it myself.”

“At least you knew it was coming.”

Salim closed his eyes for a split second. When he opened them they were dark as a starless night. “It wasn’t easy for me.”

He leaned forward, holding her attention with laser intensity. “That was, and remains, the worst day of my entire life.”

“Mine, too.” The words rushed from her mouth before she could stop them.

He’d seemed so cold and distant, like he didn’t care. Like he’d changed into a different person overnight. One who’d never cared for her at all, let alone loved her.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever recover from such a brutal rejection of all her affections. Such a firm and thorough crushing of all her hopes and dreams.

Maybe she hadn’t recovered? She’d dated again, but never for long. She’d never married.

Now, suddenly everything was different.

He’d missed her.

He’d never forgotten her.

Memories of her, and their relationship, had ruined his marriage.

Shock—and something else—unfurled deep inside her.

Was this why he cut off their renewed affair four years ago? Because it had meant more to him than he was willing to admit?

Questions raced around Celia’s mind. Questions about a Salim who’d been hidden from her.

A Salim who’d missed her and who still loved her and who might.

“Let’s go.” Salim swept up from the table without waiting for her reaction.

Celia rose, accidentally clattering her knife against her plate and almost knocking over her chair. Her heart pounded beneath her elegant silk dress and her pulse skittered beneath her bangles as she took his arm and swept out of the room on a tide of fierce and unexpected emotion.

Guests glanced up at them, curious, but she couldn’t summon even a polite smile to greet them. She couldn’t do anything except manage—just barely—to put one foot in front of the other.

They flew across the sparkling atrium and out through a dark arch toward the beach. Salim marched with such speed and concentration that no one even dared approach him, let alone speak. It was all Celia could do to keep up in her rustling dress and delicate slippers.

They stepped through the archway and walked down some steps to the sand. Warm evening air brushed her face like a breath. They hadn’t even left the pool of light flooding from the atrium when Salim turned, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with furious passion.

Celia melted into his kiss, rushed into it, her whole body cleaving to his, pressing against him from head to toe. Her hands fisted into his shirt and her nipples hardened against his powerful chest.

Salim’s urgent fingers roamed into her elaborate hairstyle as he pulled her face to his and kissed her with breathless abandon.

“Oh, Celia,” he murmured, when their lips finally parted for a second. “I tried to push you out of my mind.” His words rang with pain, and tailed off as he crushed his mouth over hers again, a groan of relief shuddering through him.

Tears sprang to Celia’s eyes. Fierce emotion threatened to overwhelm her. “Me, too,” she breathed into his ear, while he layered hot kisses along her neck.

She’d fallen so easily into his arms four years ago, despite how he’d hurt her. She couldn’t help it. The connection between them was too strong to resist.

He grabbed her hand. “Come with me.” He led her down to the beach, where she pulled off her hard-to-run-in slippers and let the cool sand welcome her toes. “My private apartment.” He gestured to a small peninsula jutting out into the ocean’s gentle waves. An elegant white building with typical Omani crenelations along the roofline—like a medieval castle in miniature—perched just over the rippling surf. Light illuminated a narrow arched window.

He ran so fast she could barely keep up.

Celia didn’t protest. She couldn’t even think, let alone talk.

He pushed open a carved door and ushered her inside. A lamp glowed in a corner, illuminating a simple, masculine space with bare white walls and a smooth stone floor. An ornate silver coffeepot glowed on a shelf, the only decoration besides the high arched windows shaded by carved wood screens.

Celia drank in the details, maybe because she’d been starved of information about Salim for so long. She’d wondered where he lived, and how, without her all this time.

He led her through a polished door in the far wall into what was obviously his bedroom.

A large white bed filled the center of the octagonal room. Tall windows punctuated each wall, providing slivers of ocean view where the moon danced over shimmering black water. Otherwise the space was ascetic as a monk’s cell.

The space of a man who lived alone, with no woman in his life.

Salim closed the door behind her and slid his arms around her, muscles shuddering with urgency. His fingers roved over her back through the thin silk of her dress. He kissed her again and again, until her fingers plucked at his shirt buttons in thoughtless desperation.

“I missed you,” his breath was hot on her neck. “Seeing you again four years ago only made it worse. I’ve craved you, wished for you.”

Salim’s blood hummed with tension so thick he felt he might explode.

He never forgot her. Not for want of trying. He’d done everything he could think of to expunge her from his body and soul.

He’d poured himself into his work, spent his time building an empire and filling it with people as passionate as himself.

But he never forgot Celia.

He’d had to try all over again after their fateful meeting in Manhattan. The very last person he’d thought to see there, she almost knocked him flat with her beauty and poise. He’d been helpless in the glow of her smile, and the warm greeting she’d offered, letting him know the past was gone and forgotten.

And he’d been forced to start over from scratch, trying to forget her again.

“It feels like heaven being here with you.”

His words echoed off the walls, painfully true, as he touched her. She was so perfect, so precious, so totally unchanged, like time had captured her in amber and saved her for him, despite all his mistakes.

He lifted her diaphanous dress over her head in a swift movement and groaned at the sight of her breasts in their simple white bra.

Celia’s hands gripped his upper arms with force as he lowered his mouth to her breasts, giving in to whatever primal forces drove him. He didn’t fight the instincts he’d tried so hard to crush out of existence.

His lips brushed the cotton, tasting the shape of her thickened nipples through the soft fabric. Sensation kicked through him, firing his muscles and making his heart pound.

He unhooked her bra and slid her panties down her slender, muscled legs.

Celia laughed, a magical sound that filled his ears and echoed in his chest.

Laughter had been missing from his life for far too long. He’d tried so hard to do the right thing, to be the dutiful son and the upstanding businessman, when what he really wanted was … Celia.

Her hands tugged at his shirt and he realized that she’d undone all the buttons and was trying to remove it. Laughing again, he helped her, shrugging out of it and struggling with the fly of his pants.

Her face glowed in the soft moonlight, eyes closed and an expression of joy lighting her lovely features.

“You’re perfect.”

He said the words aloud right as he felt them, holding nothing back. Freed of his clothes, he pressed his skin to hers, enjoying the sweet, soft warmth of her in his arms.

His arousal was intense, agonizing, and if they didn’t make love right now, he wasn’t sure what would happen. He did still have the presence of mind to don a condom. The last thing he wanted was for her to get pregnant.

He lowered her gently onto the bed, where a shaft of moonlight danced over the sheets and her soft skin.

Celia let out a little cry as he entered her. He opened his eyes, worried that he’d hurt her. Her face soothed his fears. A smile lit her features and her golden lashes fluttered as she writhed under him, clutching him closer.

Salim moved gingerly inside her—easing into a rhythm, then pulling back—wringing every second of sweet pleasure from the closeness he’d craved for so long. He ran his hands over her skin, pressed his fingers into her back and through the silk of her hair.

Years ago he might have rushed, eager to take his pleasure like a child with a bowl of candy. Back then, there was always more candy, maybe even sweeter, waiting for him tomorrow.

Now he was wiser and knew that life’s sweetest moments must be savored, for that single perfect moment would never come again.

Her cheek, hot against his, felt so familiar. Her body, moving under him in quickening rhythm, was different and more delicious than ever. Her breasts seemed fuller and her belly softer. Her hips had more of a curve to them, as they lifted to meet his. Celia’s slim, girlish body had ripened and filled out into delightful feminine perfection. He could swear her body had changed even since he’d last seen her.

“Your curves are fuller,” he breathed.

Her breath caught for a second.

“It’s a compliment,” he reassured her. He’d forgotten Americans praised slimness above all else. “You become more lovely with each passing year.”

“Or your sight gets dimmer with each year,” she teased.

He released a ragged sigh as her long fingers dragged a trail of passion along his back.

“I’m not using my sight.” He caressed her soft and seductive backside with his fingers. Pleasure rippled through him. “Even if I was blind, my other senses wouldn’t lie to me.”

He opened his eyes as if to reassure himself that the madness of his desire for Celia hadn’t deprived him of his senses. In the dim light of the lamp he saw her delicate features, glowing gold, her lips parted in breathy moans.

He slowed the rhythm, layering kisses along her collarbone until her eyes opened. In the semidarkness they were blue as the night-dark sea outside.

A smile tilted her sensual mouth. “You’ve filled out, too. All muscle.” She squeezed his bicep between her long fingers. “It seems cruel that you should get even more handsome as you get older.”

“I could say the same for you, but I’d rather enjoy your beauty.” He kissed her cheeks and her mouth, slow and gentle, relishing each brush of their skin. Her scent was intoxicating, like wild honey discovered just where you least expect it, filling the senses to the point of madness.

Madness. This must be madness. Wasn’t he trying to cure himself of Celia?

Their tryst was having the very opposite effect.

A flare of anger—mixed inexorably with pure lust—flashed through him.

How did this woman have so much power over him?

Almost as if she heard his unspoken question, Celia angled one of her long legs over his, and deftly flipped their positions until she was on top.

Triumph flared in her eyes as she took him deep.

Salim moaned as pleasure cascaded through him. He’d always adored her sexual confidence—which they’d found and nurtured together—and the way she loved to take charge.

Her nipples hovered over him in the dim light, darker and fuller than he remembered, tempting his thumbs to strum their peaks. Celia sighed as he stroked her breasts, and she moved in a hypnotic rhythm, like a belly dancer, drawing him deeper and deeper.

She was taking him into a world where none of his senses functioned properly. A strange yet familiar place where his nerves were alive and tingling with pleasure so intense it felt like pain.

Celia bent and kissed him on the mouth, bold and beautiful, claiming him.

He kissed back, unable to stop himself. Lust and mischief soon had them clawing and nipping at each other. He was tempted to suck hard enough to brand her with the mark of his desire.

But he didn’t. He was a gentleman, even in this moment of unbearable and delicious torture.

With a movement faster than her own, he grabbed hold of her thighs and maneuvered them both into a sitting position. Legs wrapped around each other, they sat face to face, with him still buried deep—and active—inside her.

She laughed. He’d picked one of the familiar positions from ancient India they’d studied and enjoyed all those years ago.

“It’s a classic,” he murmured, enjoying the face-to-face contact the position allowed. He kissed her on the mouth hard, then pulled back.

“It always slows things right down, doesn’t it?” She looked at him through narrowed eyes. Her tongue flicked over her lips, tantalizing.

“Sometimes it’s good to slow things down.”

“When you’re about to lose control?”

“I never lose control,” he growled.

“Now that’s an outright lie.” Celia leaned forward, and brushed his chest with the aroused tips of her nipples.

“Okay,” he rasped. “Only sometimes.”

“Like when you’re with me.” She brushed her thumb over the curve of his mouth, daring him to argue.

“When I’m with you,” he echoed. He seized her, flipping them again until he was on top, and sinking deeper into her hot and enticing depths.

Celia let out a long, shivering sigh and clutched him close.

Her muscles contracted around him when her climax seized her. In an instant he lost control.

He let out a tortured groan and clutched her to him while sensation rocked him like an earthquake. Colors and patterns burst in front of his eyes, and he clung to Celia as his whole world shook and shuddered and threatened to crumble.

He didn’t want to let Celia go.

And that in itself was a big problem.

* * *

If Celia could stay right here, in Salim’s warm, strong arms, she’d be fine. She was sure of it.

She could hear the sea outside the window, waves lapping against the soft white sand. The tide going in, or out, whichever it was, just as it did every day and night since the beginning of time.

If only she could stop the clock and hold them both here in this magical place where nothing else mattered but that they were together. But already, prying fingers of light crept around the blinds, ready to tug her back into real life.

She sat up with a start. Was it seven o’clock yet? She’d pledged to call Kira every day at 7:00 a.m. Salalah time, which was four in the afternoon in Connecticut, soon after Kira got home from daycare.

Salim stirred and his eyes opened a crack. His dark gaze sent a lightning bolt of guilt to her core.

She still hadn’t told him.

And now she’d slept with him.

“I’ve got to go.” She slid to the side of the bed, afraid he’d stretch out a muscled arm and pull her back into his embrace.

Salim lay sprawled on the pillows, broad chest bared, his seductive trail of black hair leading beneath the white sheet that barely covered his hips. “So soon? I think you should sleep in today. I’ll talk to the boss.” His mouth tilted into a sly smile.

A curl of fresh, hot desire unfolded in Celia’s stomach. Which only deepened her sense of guilt. How could she do this to Kira, let alone Salim? Did she have no self-control at all?

Apparently not, at least as far as Salim was concerned.

She tugged her gaze from his dark, sleepy eyes and tousled hair and cleared her throat. “I wish I could, but I have a meeting at the job site. I don’t want to mess up other people’s plans.”

“You’re very devoted to your work.” His low, seductive voice seemed to suggest that was a bad thing. He shifted onto his side, giving her an eyeful of his sculpted chest and hard biceps.

“Isn’t that why you hired me?”

Something glittered in his dark eyes. “Not really.”

Celia’s belly tightened. Had he truly brought her here because he wanted … her?

He wouldn’t have done that if he knew she’d concealed his own daughter from him.

Adrenaline propelled her from the bed. “I’ve got to get moving.” She bit her lip at the sight of her crumpled blue finery. “I’m going to look pretty silly sprinting across the hotel complex in this.”

“I’ll call and have some of your clothes brought here.” Salim stretched again, bronzed muscle pressing against the soft mattress.

“Are you crazy? Then everyone will know.”

He shrugged. Maybe he did this sort of thing all the time.

Celia drew in a long, fortifying breath. “No thanks, I’ll take my chances. It’s still early. I’ll sneak around past the tennis courts.”

Salim laughed. “You have no need to ‘sneak.’ You’re not married, and neither am I. We have nothing to be ashamed of.”

She gulped. “I’m sure that’s true in an ideal world, but in this one I still need to be able to give instructions to the landscapers without them all falling around laughing because they’re picturing me in bed with the boss.”

He tilted his head back and surveyed her through narrowed eyes. “It’s a pretty picture.”

Her nipples stung with unwelcome arousal. In fact, her whole body still hummed with the memory of his touch. She needed to get out of here … now.

She shrugged into the blue dress and stepped into the sequined slippers.

“Come, kiss me before you go.” He lay stretched on the bed like a sultan, sheets wound around his sturdy thighs. Celia’s stomach flip-flopped.

She climbed onto the bed and leaned down to brush her lips to his. Salim captured her in his arms and claimed her mouth with a forceful kiss.

Desire surged through Celia, powerful and invincible. Her skin heated and her limbs trembled with arousal as she kissed him back. A low groan rose from Salim’s chest, calling to a dark, sensual part of her that only he’d ever awakened.

Then the thought of Kira—possibly waiting by the phone—cracked in her mind like a whip.

She pulled her mouth from his with considerable effort. “I have to go.”

“Shame.” He lolled back into the fine sheets, propping muscled arms behind his head. “Since the project’s going so smoothly I’m afraid I may lose you before we have time to become properly reacquainted. I find myself wanting to hinder your progress.”

His words were a splash of icy water on Celia’s lust heated skin. He spoke so easily of “losing her.” No doubt if she didn’t get lost by herself, he’d give her a neat shove out of his life again.

She stumbled for the door and pushed out into the sunlight, raking a hand through her long, tangled hair.

Why did she let this happen?

She came here to participate in an interesting project, earn good money … and tell him about Kira.

She certainly hadn’t come here to sleep with him at the first opportunity.

Common sense deserted her entirely when Salim was around. She knew that. So why had she let herself be tempted into his bed?

Salim clearly saw this as an opportunity to enjoy her body and revel in the warm light of old memories, before he left her behind—yet again—and got on with his own life. Which, as she knew from long, painful experience, did not include her.

Or Kira.

How could she do anything so stupid? Had she thought that suddenly everything was different and he loved her?

A hard blast of air escaped her lungs. What an idiot she was!

She hurried along a neat brick walkway under a row of lush palms, keeping her eyes down so as not to make contact with any of the gardeners pulling dead fronds from the trees and sweeping the paths.

And what was her excuse now for not telling him about his daughter? They’d been alone all night in bed and she could have blurted the truth at any moment.

But the moment never seemed right.

Dammit, the moment would never be right.

She lowered her eyes as two hotel managers passed her on the path, with a hushed glance at her rumpled finery. Shadows slashed like knives across the path, as sun crept through the palms.

Oh, how he’d hate her if he knew the magnitude of the secret she still kept hidden while she lay naked in his arms.

How in the world would she ever tell him now?