Sheikh's Dark Seduction. Оливия Гейтс

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      The bedroom door opened and the light which flooded in highlighted the powerful figure who was standing in the doorway.

      ‘All alone in the darkness, Cat?’ came his soft taunt. He switched on the light. ‘Why’s that?’

      For a moment she didn’t answer; she was too busy blinking as her eyes accustomed themselves to the sudden brightness. Shoving her phone down into the bottom of her handbag, she shrugged.

      ‘I’m all for saving on electricity costs,’ she said carelessly. ‘I thought you’d approve—after all, you’re the man who’s ploughing his money into wind farms and researching different sources of alternative energy.’

      ‘Very funny. Why did you leave the dinner so abruptly?’

      ‘Because...because I suddenly realised I was crazy to agree to come here and...’ Her words tailed off as she thought about her sister’s texts. Maybe she should tell him that she needed to go back to Wales and maybe she should tell him why. And yet... She bit down hard on her bottom lip. How could she bring herself to tell him something like that when they were on the verge of parting for ever? Did she want to be forever remembered as the daughter of a drunk? She felt a flicker of stubborn pride. Her mother’s illness was none of Murat’s business. She met his eyes. ‘And I’d like to go back to England as soon as possible.’

      His face hardened.

      ‘Is this your way of playing games?’ he demanded. ‘Of demonstrating how much power you have over me, by seeing how far you can push me?’

      ‘Of course it isn’t.’

      ‘I thought we’d agreed that you were going to stay for a couple of days.’

      She stared down at the floor, unwilling to meet the angry gleam in his eyes. ‘Maybe I’ve changed my mind.’

      ‘Oh, really?’ His voice was silky. ‘Then maybe I should see if I can change it back for you again.’

      She should have realised exactly what method he would use and if she’d been thinking straight, she might have given herself time to psych herself up and remain immune to him. But she wasn’t thinking straight and therefore she had no defence when Murat reached out and pulled her into his arms.

      Instinct took over. She could feel every hard sinew of his body as she melted against him. And the startled breath she sucked in did her no favours, because it left her completely accessible to the urgent pressure of his lips as he bent his head to kiss her.

      Her hands went up to his shoulders to push him away, but as he deepened the kiss she felt herself clinging on—and then some.

      ‘Murat,’ she groaned as he began to ruck up her dress, his hands skating beneath the delicate fabric to smooth themselves over her thighs.

      But he didn’t seem to be listening to her half-hearted protest; he was too busy tugging her panties down. The delicate scrap of lace fluttered to the floor as he carried her over to the bed and laid her down on it. His thumb was on her clitoris and the gasping little groan she made in response was quickly silenced by another kiss.

      Her desire was spiralling out of control and as he pulled away from her she heard the unsteady rasp of a zip. In the throes of something which felt so wrong and yet so irresistibly good, her lashes fluttered open to see Murat kicking off his trousers. His arousal was heart-stoppingly evident and the fierce look of hunger on his face made her grow weaker still.

      And then he was positioning himself over her—on her and in her—thrusting into her so deeply that she opened her mouth to scream with pleasure. But he anticipated her cry and drowned it with another kiss.

      It was a frantic, wordless coupling—one in which they couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. She had never known Murat quite so out of control before. He bit at her breasts and she bit him back and her orgasm seemed to be torn from some deep, dark place inside her. It ripped her open and left her breathless and dazed. More dazed than she had ever been. Because she knew this was the last time?

      She closed her eyes as he jerked violently against her, muttering something soft and indistinct in his native tongue, and Catrin could feel the salty prick of tears at the backs of her eyes as his body grew still at last.

      For a moment, neither of them said anything and then his hand tightened at her waist. ‘Cat?’

      Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she said nothing. There was nothing to say. She didn’t know what she expected next, but it was not to hear the sound of slow and rhythmic breathing.

      Cautiously, she turned her head to look at him.

      He was asleep!

      The callous brute had fallen asleep!

      Anger and indignation flooded through her. How could he go to sleep after what had just happened? Something she had let happen. After everything she’d vowed not to do, it seemed she was as weak as a kitten when it came to resisting him.

      And now what?

      Was she expected to lie here and go to sleep, too? To trot down to breakfast in the morning and face those people as if nothing had happened?

      She couldn’t.

      She ran the tip of her tongue over bone-dry lips. It seemed that, despite all the experience she had gained, she was still capable of being completely naïve and stupid. Or had she really imagined that intimacy wasn’t going to happen with a man as virile as Murat? A man she still loved and wanted, no matter how much she told herself it was wrong.

      Because as always Murat was in charge. Everything he touched, he controlled—even here, in a house he did not own. He was still calling the shots, wasn’t he? Just as he always did. Having sex with her even though she’d told him she didn’t want it.

      But you did want it, didn’t you?

      And if she stayed here, it was only going to happen again. She would keep making the same mistakes, over and over.

      Cautiously she rolled away from him, but he didn’t stir and she forced herself to lie there until she could hear the sound of the other guests going to bed—the sounds of their goodnights echoing through the silence.

      She lay there until the hand of her watch crept around to two o’clock and the house was completely still, and then she slipped from the bed, tiptoeing across the room to switch the light off. Murat stirred a little, but he did not wake.

      Under the cover of darkness, she felt more secure. She crept over to the wardrobe and fished out a clean pair of panties and then put on a pair of cotton trousers beneath her dress. Wrapping a soft pashmina around her neck, she walked quietly over to the desk where Murat had left the official paraphernalia which accompanied him everywhere.

      With fingers which were miraculously steady, she found his wallet. The amount of Euros inside was substantial, but she needed enough to pay for a taxi to the airport and a one-way ticket on a commercial airline. So she didn’t feel a flicker of guilt as she extracted a wad of notes.

      Sliding her feet into her canvas shoes, she picked up her handbag and crept from the bedroom. Through the silent house she moved, using the back door of the kitchen to gain access СКАЧАТЬ