Midnight on the Sands. Оливия Гейтс

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СКАЧАТЬ room. His room was empty too, not just of him, but of almost anything. There was a bed in the corner, a large armoire and very little else.

      There was a chin-up bar in the doorway that led outside into the courtyard. Something else physical for him to do. He seemed to need the outlet.

      She looked at the bed, pillows pushed to the side, the bedspread and sheets tangled. He had been here. And he hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d said he couldn’t sleep. She felt the twinge in her chest again.

      She walked across the room and bent over the bed, tugging the bedding into place and arranging the pillows again. It was an idle thing to do, something to keep her hands busy while she decided what to do next. But it was her way of trying to put something in his life back together. Since she’d come in guns blazing and torn it apart.

      It was torn apart already. You did what you had to do. And anyway, it isn’t as though you forced him.

      No. He’d agreed. Because it was the right thing to do. Because duty was important, honor. It mattered. It had to, otherwise her whole life had been geared toward … nothing. It was the only thing she knew how to do. The only thing that gave her purpose.

      “What are you doing?”

      Katharine turned sharply and saw Zahir standing in the doorway that led outside, his chest bare and glistening with a light sheen of sweat in the pale moonlight.

      “I just came to … “

      “You cannot leave me alone, can you, Katharine?” The words were torn from him, a desperation laced through them that shocked and frightened her.

      “How can I? After what you said?” she asked, her pulse pounding in her temples, making her feel dizzy.

      “Easily. Leave me be as everyone else has done for the past five years. I agreed to a marriage on paper only because I wanted to ignore you as much as humanly possible.” He growled the words, rough sounding and feral, the rage behind them barely leashed.

      “Why did you agree to it at all?”

      “Because it is best for my people. I may not be able to go out in a crowd of them, but that doesn’t lessen my responsibility here.”

      “I … I’m sorry about today.”

      He moved into the room, his body taking up an amazing amount of space in the cavernous surroundings. “You’re sorry about today, sorry about the table. Is that what you’re here for? To show me just how sorry you are?”

      He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. He leaned in, his lips skimming the curve of her neck. Katharine felt her legs start to shake, not from fear, from something else. From the attraction that had assaulted her off and on from the moment she’d seen him in his office.

      Even now. With all of his rage directed at her, she felt something else vibrating between them. Something even more powerful.

      “Have you come to show me how sorry you are with that beautiful body of yours?” he whispered the words, his lips touching her earlobe lightly, a slight tremor in his fingers. “How appropriate. A virgin sacrifice to appease the Beast.” He flexed his hand, fingers spreading wide on her waist, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast. Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted him to let her go. And she wanted him to pull her tightly into his body.

      He stayed like that, his face so close to hers, his breath feathering against her cheek, hot and intimate. He slid his finger over the line of her jaw, the gesture so gentle and subtle, at odds with the rage vibrating from him. Rage was the surface emotion, but when she looked in his eyes, she saw something else. Need. So raw and real it was a palpable force.

      He dropped his arm from her waist, pulling back sharply, the sudden shock of cold as the distance widened between them making goose bumps break out on her arms.

      “I don’t need your pity,” he spat, taking another step back.

      Anger boiled in Katharine’s stomach, anger and unsatisfied desire, and she had no idea what business either of them had existing beside the other. Although, it seemed it was the same for Zahir. That, at least, provided its own satisfaction.

      Zahir’s eyes were cold on her, glittering in the dim room.

      “You don’t have my pity,” she said tightly. “I’m sorry for what happened to your family, I’m sorry that you had to go through it. No man, no woman, no one, should ever have to see the things you’ve seen. But right now, you’re just a jackass. And I don’t pity a man who acts like a jackass just because he thinks he can get away with it. We’re getting married in eight weeks. I’m willing to help you. But no matter what you choose, you need to think of a way to civilize yourself. And the flashbacks have nothing to do with that.”

      Zahir watched Katharine turn on her heel and stride from the room, her posture stiff, her footsteps hard and loud on the marble floor.

      A flood of regret, so real and unfiltered it shocked him, filled him. He gritted his teeth against anger, and the painful arousal that was still making its presence felt.

      Five years and he hadn’t felt the slightest twinge of sexual desire. Nothing. But Katharine had brought it roaring to life the first time she’d come into his office. And when he’d come in from his ride in the desert he’d seen her, bending over his bed, her tight butt on display for him, looking like every man’s perfect fantasy … it had been too much.

      The need to take her, to push her onto the bed and shove that little dress up around her hips … it had been so strong he’d honestly wondered if he stood a chance of resisting. It had tugged at his control, tearing the threads of it, leaving a mangled mass of desire and lust.

      Before, he would have showed his interest. He would have seduced her, and he would have been confident in her desire for him. He’d been a playboy, at least until he’d met Amarah. And women had been easy to come by. Willing and fun, giving of their bodies and pleasure, as he gave of his.

      But the man he was now … If there was even a woman willing to bed the Beast, a woman who roused his desire, he would deny it. Because as important as sex and release had been then, control was needed now.

      And Katharine had shaken it. If he gave in to the lust, threw off the shackles he had willingly locked onto himself, he didn’t know what might happen.

      If she wanted to heal him, she was welcome to it. The truth was, he did have to stand up at their wedding without being assaulted by flashbacks. And he would do it. He wasn’t foolish enough to think it was a simple matter of being strong enough, though he wished it were. It went beyond that. But he would do what he had to.

      He would master it. And he would master his feelings for her.

      There was no other option.

      “What is it you propose we do?” he asked, walking into the courtyard the next morning.

      Katharine was already there, her hair pulled up into a neat bun, a cup of coffee frozen midway between the table and her mouth as she looked up at him, green eyes owlishly wide. She set the mug down. “Excuse me?”

      “What is it you propose we do to stop the flashbacks. You seemed to have an idea yesterday?”

      “And you seemed to СКАЧАТЬ