The Call of the Desert. Эбби Грин

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СКАЧАТЬ He never dithered, but all he could see in his mind’s eye was the seductive image of Julia standing before him in those wet clothes. She should have looked like a drowned rat, but she hadn’t. That cool, classic English beauty stood out a mile—along with the delicate curves of her breasts, waist and hips.

      The burning desire he’d felt in the car hadn’t abated one bit, and normally when he was attracted to a woman it was a straightforward affair. But this wasn’t just some random woman. This woman came with long silken ties to the past. To his heart. He rejected that rogue thought outright. She’d never affected his heart. He’d thought she had … but it had been lust. Overwhelming, yes, but just lust. Not love.

      He’d learnt young not to trust romantic love. His father had married for love. But after his mother had died in childbirth with his younger sister his father had silently communicated to him that love only brought pain. It had been there in the way that his father had become a shadow of his former self, wrapped up in grief and solitude. Kaden had always been made very aware that one day he would rule his country, so he could never afford to let such frivolous emotions overwhelm him the way they’d taken over his father’s life.

      Kaden’s father had married again, but this time for all the expected reasons. Practicality and lineage. Unfortunately his second wife had been cold and manipulative, further compounding Kaden’s negative impressions of marriage and love. Any halcyon memories he might have had of his mother and father being happy together had quickly faded into something that felt like a wispy dream—unreal.

      Yet when Kaden had met Julia he’d been seduced into forgetting everything he’d learnt. Guilt weighed heavily on him even now. And that sense of betrayal. If he hadn’t seen her with that other man … if he hadn’t realised how fickle she was …

      Kaden cursed himself for this sudden introspection.

      In his hands he held some dry clothes. He knocked lightly and heard nothing. So he went in. The bedroom was dimly lit and the door to the bathroom was slightly open. As if in a trance he walked further into the bedroom and laid the dry clothes down on the bed. He’d picked up Julia’s wet clothes on the way through. Her scent hit his nostrils now and his eyes closed. Still the same distinctive lavender scent. A dart of anger rose up, as if her scent was mocking him by not having changed.

      Before his mind could become clouded with evocative memories a sound made him open his eyes to see Julia, framed in the doorway of the bathroom, with only a towel wrapped around her body and another towel turban—like on her head. Steam billowed out behind her, bringing with it that delicate scent.

      Lust slammed into Kaden like a two-ton lorry. Right in his solar plexus. Long shapely legs were bare, so were pale shoulders and arms. Kaden cursed himself for bringing her here. The last thing he needed right now was to be reopening doors best left shut.

      He said, with a cool bite in his voice, “I’ll send these out to be dried.” He indicated the clothes on the bed, “You can change into these for now. They should fit.”

      Julia’s eyes, which had widened on seeing him, moved to the clothes on the bed. He saw her tense perceptibly. She shook her head, a flush coming into her cheeks, and put out a hand. “I’ll change back into my own clothes and go home.”

      An image of her walking out through the door made Kaden’s self-recrimination dissolve in an instant. He held the clothes well out of Julia’s reach. “Don’t be silly. You’ll get pneumonia if you put these back on.”

      Julia’s eyes narrowed and she stretched her hand out more. “Really—I don’t mind. This wasn’t a good idea. I should never have agreed to come here.”

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