‘I’m done with waiting,’ she said fiercely, and as she spoke she claimed him. Tadj could have held her off with ease, but a line had been crossed, and they both knew it, and with a growl of triumph he pressed her into the bed, and took over.
However much he wanted this, wanted Lucy, he was determined to go slowly, so she would remember this for all the right reasons. However eager she might be, he would hold back. His body cried out for immediate satisfaction, but he ruled it ruthlessly. Pinning Lucy’s hands above her head on the soft bank of pillows, he took her slowly and deeply, taking his time to make sure she savoured every moment of pleasure. His reward was that she lost control immediately, and as she bucked wildly beneath him he held her in position to ensure she explored what was possible.
Making love to Lucy was as natural as breathing. They each responded without the need for words, and grew closer, in amusement, in pleasure, in trust, in ways he’d never imagined possible with a woman, after knowing each other for so short a time. When she finally fell back exhausted, he smiled to think that the erotic hangings above the bed were tame by comparison with this.
‘Do you never tire?’ she asked when he stroked her into awareness again. Smiling into the pillows, she gave him an engaging sideways look. Curled up on the sheets like a contented pussycat, she made his stone heart long for the impossible, and so he took her again, turning his thoughts from complications to pleasure.
A long time later, he realised he was murmuring words in his own tongue to Lucy, and these were words he had never said to anyone. Whatever difficulties faced them, she was part of his life now. He had claimed her as she had claimed him, and, settling back with her safely nestled in his arms, he closed his eyes and they slept.
* * *
Dawn light woke Lucy when it streamed into the Golden Suite. Tadj lay sprawled across the bed. She had slept contentedly through the night in his embrace. He was so beautiful, she thought, staring down.
Hearing noises on deck, she was instantly alert. The consequence of being on board when the Sapphire left dock struck home forcefully, and, slipping out of bed without waking him, she went to peer out of the window. Her heart lurched as her worst fears were confirmed. The Sapphire was about to sail. Racing to drag on her clothes, she only knew that she had to get off before that happened, and there wasn’t a moment to lose. Last night had been a wonderful dream, but she had always known she would wake up at some point. They both had their lives to live, and she didn’t belong in this very different world. Tiptoeing back to the bed, she stared down wistfully, but some things could never be. Putting the past behind her had meant striving to move forward every day, and how could she do that if she stayed here? Wrenching her gaze away from the only man she could ever love, she left her heart with him, and hurried out of the room.
Tadj would move on when he tired of her, Lucy’s sensible self insisted as she bolted down the gangplank. Life would continue as normal for the Emir of Qalala when the Sapphire sailed, while Lucy didn’t have the luxury of taking time out.
Turning in response to the shouts of the sailors tossing ropes from shore to ship, she knew their strident voices were the death knell to the dreams she had so foolishly tucked away in her heart.
Three months later...
FROZEN TO THE spot on the tiled floor of the restaurant where she was working her second job on King’s Dock, Lucy was stunned to see Tadj again. How many more shocks could she take?
As many as necessary, she told herself firmly after taking a few steadying breaths. Only an hour or so ago she had received a panicked phone call from her mother, to warn Lucy that her stepfather had unexpectedly received parole, and was due to be set free from prison, which meant they were both in danger. She had felt sick inside knowing there was an unborn child involved now.
And now this...
‘Get away from here,’ her mother had pleaded. ‘It’s the only way you can help me. You have to get out of the country, because if your stepfather finds you, he’ll find a way to hurt me through you. Our lives are in danger, Lucy. I can’t rest until I know you’re safely out of his reach.’ This was no exaggeration. Lucy knew only too well from past experience how dangerous her stepfather could be, and how utterly ruthless.
Holding Tadj’s gaze steadily, she stamped on the urge to tell him everything right away. She knew her eyes might give her away. Tadj had always been able to read her, and the fact that she was carrying his child couldn’t be hidden for long. She didn’t want to hide it—she was happy to think that in a few months’ time there would be a baby—but she wasn’t so certain how she felt about the fact that a child would bind them together for life, whether either of them wanted that or not.
‘We meet again,’ the Emir of Qalala intoned without a flicker of emotion on his dazzlingly handsome face.
She knew immediately that this was not the fun-loving guy from the café, but a very different animal, as Tadj regarded her as coolly as if they’d shared nothing more than a passing acquaintance. He’d drawn to a halt just a few steps away, and she could see nothing of the man she’d known in his eyes, yet somehow she must persuade this hostile stranger to take her away from here. This wasn’t just a shock encounter, but a lucky quirk of fate that she must take advantage of. She’d go to Qalala, if she had to—whatever it took to keep her mother and baby safe.
All these thoughts were jangling in Lucy’s head as they confronted each other. She would have liked more time to frame her argument and persuade him to take her with him, but there was no time.
With an almost imperceptible nod of his head, the Emir of Qalala summoned the maître d’. ‘Lucy and I haven’t seen each other for some time,’ Tadj explained, ‘and would appreciate your giving her the night off.’
This wasn’t a question, but an instruction, Lucy thought as the maître d’ gushed a response. Of course she could leave. ‘Whatever suits you, Your Majesty,’ he insisted.
The lift of one ebony brow was all it took for Tadj to remind the maître d’ that the Emir of Qalala was eating in his restaurant incognito, and that he didn’t welcome reference to his royal status. This sent the hapless maître d’ into a tailspin. ‘I’ll get your coat,’ he told Lucy, rushing off.
At least fate was on her mother’s side, Lucy thought as Tadj continued to stare at her. She’d had a genuine reason for leaving him three months ago, and could only hope that he didn’t harbour grudges for long.
The distinguished gentleman who had been sitting with Tadj at the table made no complaint when his dining experience was brought to an abrupt end. Bowing politely over Lucy’s hand, he excused himself, and within moments she noticed an official limousine sweeping away. So far, so good, she thought, as Tadj indicated that she should now sit down. ‘We won’t be staying long,’ he told her. ‘A glass of water, perhaps?’
If it hadn’t been for her condition, a stiff brandy might have been more appropriate, Lucy reasoned, trying to dredge up some humour from what was a not so funny situation. Tadj’s mention of leaving the restaurant was an additional reminder to keep a clear head. ‘A glass of water would be nice,’ she agreed, swallowing down her apprehension on a dry throat.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Tadj frowned. Cold as he was towards her, he was fundamentally a decent man. ‘The shock of seeing me again hasn’t been too much for you?’
The irony in his tone was the only warning she needed to be cautious, and she shot him a sharp look. Tadj’s expression remained stony, while she remained silent. They had so much to say to each other, but the door of communication between them had slammed shut, and the mouth that had kissed her into oblivion remained set in a harsh line. Obviously, he was angry that she’d walked out on him. Who would do that to the Emir of Qalala? Who did that to anyone without a word of explanation?