A Mediterranean Marriage. Lynne Graham

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ great-grandmother, his seventy-four-year-old grandmother and his mother could in combination be somewhat trying guests. Was it his fault that he was an only child and the sole unappreciative focus of their hopes of the next generation?

      Shelving that reflection with a wry grimace, he concentrated his thoughts back on Lily. He fully expected, indeed he was even looking forward to, being disappointed when he saw her again. No woman could possibly be as beautiful as he had once believed her to be.

      So, it was most ironic that, when Rauf saw the two middle-aged doormen compete in an undignified race to throw the doors wide for the woman entering the hotel, it should be Lily in receipt of that exaggerated male attention that only a very real degree of beauty evoked. Lily, who still seemed to drift rather than walk, her long dress flowing with her fluid movements and baring only slim arms, narrow wrists and slender ankles. As Lily approached the desk, Rauf watched the young clerk rush to greet her and his wide, sensual mouth compressed into a line harder than steel.

      Hair the colour of a sunlit cornfield fell all the way to Lily’s waist, even longer than it had been that summer. Her modest appearance, though, was pure, calculated provocation, Rauf thought in raw derision. The plain dress only accentuated her classic beauty and anchoring that mane of fabulous golden hair into prim restraint merely imbued most men with a strong desire to see those pale silken strands loose and spread across a pillow.

      In fact it was an education for Rauf to watch every man in her vicinity swivel to watch her move past and note how she affected not to notice the stir she caused. But no woman blessed with her perfect features could remain unaware of the gifts she had been born with. Had he not let himself be fooled by that same air of innocence, had he just taken her to his bed and enjoyed her body, he would surely have realised then that she was not only nothing that special, but also a practised little tart.

      As Lily headed in the direction that the desk clerk had indicated her heart started to beat very, very fast, indeed so fast that she could hardly catch her breath. She still could not believe that she was about to see Rauf Kasabian again. But then across the wide empty space that separated them she actually saw Rauf rise from his table. Her whole body leapt with almost painful tension and she froze, paralysed to the spot by that first glimpse of him.

      He was so very tall. He stood six feet four inches with the wide shoulders, narrow hips and lithe, muscular build of a male in the peak of physical condition. And gorgeous did not begin to describe that lean, bronzed face, Lily conceded in dazed acknowledgement. Rauf was so startlingly handsome that even on the crowded streets of London women had noticed him and turned their heads to stare. Lustrous, luxuriant black hair was cropped to his proud head. He had a riveting bone structure overlaid with vibrant skin and tawny eyes that could be dark as bitter chocolate or as pure a gold as the sinking sun.

      Her legs behaved like sticks without the ability to bend as she forced herself to move towards him. Her colour was high at the lowering awareness that she had stopped dead to look at him like an impressionable schoolgirl. He did not make the moment easier for her by striding forward to meet her halfway. Instead he stayed where he was, making her come to him. How had she forgotten how he dominated everything around him? How he could entrap her with one mesmerising look from those thick-lashed, brilliant eyes?

      Rauf watched her approach. She was a perfect doll, dainty and exquisite as a Meissen ornament. On even that very basic level she had once appealed to every masculine protective instinct he possessed. Rauf drew in a stark short breath. Memory hadn’t lied, memory had only dimmed his recollection of her wonderful skin, not to mention those deep blue eyes wide as a child’s and fringed by soft brown lashes a baby deer would have envied. The cool intellect that outright rejected the temptation she presented warred with the much more primitive urges of his all-too-male body. When lust triumphed, stirring him into aching sexual tension, Rauf was infuriated by his own weakness.

      Lily hovered several feet away, alarmed by the jangling state of her nerves, the terrifying blankness of her mind and the even more demeaning truth that she could not drag her attention from him. ‘It’s been a long time,’ she said breathlessly, almost wincing at the nervous sound of her own voice.

      ‘Yes. Would you like something to drink?’

      ‘Er…pure orange, please.’

      Rauf passed on the order to the waiter nearby and turned back to her. ‘Let’s get down to business, then,’ he drawled with intimidating cool. ‘I don’t have much time to spare.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      TAKEN aback by the coldness of that greeting, Lily was grateful for the small hiatus created by the waiter, who stepped forward to swing out a high-backed armchair for her occupation. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘My pleasure, hanim,’ the young man asserted with an admiring smile until a cool word of Turkish uttered by Rauf sent him into hasty retreat.

      ‘You may have noticed that my countrymen go for English blondes in a big way,’ Rauf remarked in his dark, deep drawl.

      ‘Yes,’ Lily confided ruefully, thinking of the taxi driver who had tried to chat her up and all the discomfiting male attention that she had attracted since her recent arrival.

      Yet she was conscious of Rauf’s masculine proximity with every fibre of her being and even more aware of the weird tight little knot low in her pelvis of something that felt dangerously like suppressed excitement. Her tension increased for she was as unsettled by her own reactions as she had been at twenty-one, because no other man had ever had that effect on her.

      Rauf lifted a broad shoulder in a casual shrug. ‘Here, I’m afraid, and in certain other resorts, British female tourists have the reputation of being the easiest to bed in the shortest possible space of time.’

      Lily’s face flamed. ‘I beg your pardon?’

      Rauf dealt her a cool golden glance laden with mockery. Being downright offensive was not the norm for him but he was determined to blow her I’m-so-sweet-and-shockable front right out of the water. ‘Some Englishwomen go mad for Turkish men, so don’t blame the guys for hassling you.’

      ‘I wasn’t aware that I was blaming anybody.’ Lily’s fingers tightened round the document case on her lap. She just could not credit that he was talking to her in such a way and, bewildered by the antagonism she sensed, she allowed her scrutiny to linger on the scornful slant to his beautifully shaped mouth.

      Without the slightest warning, she found herself remembering the wicked, unforgettable excitement of those firm, hard male lips on her own. A deep inner quiver slivered through her slight frame and her skin heated. Mortified by the intimate nature of her wandering thoughts, she could not even recall what they had been talking about. Forcing her head up, she encountered intent tawny eyes and stopped breathing altogether.

      His lush black lashes dipped to a slumbrous level over his stunning gaze and she shifted on her seat, every muscle tightening, every nerve-ending flaring with agonising immediacy into sensitised awareness. Desperate to break free of the raw magnetic power he exerted over her and shattered that she could still be susceptible to a male who had once rejected her, she tore her eyes from him and muttered with an abruptness that only increased her discomfiture, ‘You said that you didn’t have much time…so can we discuss this misunderstanding over the contract that you agreed with my father?’

      Rauf’s shimmering golden scrutiny rested on her evasive gaze with grim amusement and no small amount of satisfaction. So she did want him and that, at least, had not been a total lie like all the rest. He elevated a challenging black brow. ‘There is no misunderstanding.’

      ‘There СКАЧАТЬ