He continued,'She told me about her girlfriend in college, and how she was too terrified to stand up to her mother...that she's always had trouble standing up to her.' Arkim's mouth twisted.'I can understand why.'
Sylvie reeled.'My God...she really did tell you everything.'
Arkim nodded.'She also told me that she'd refused to let you do anything at first, because she didn't want you to damage your already contentious relationship with your father and stepmother, and they'd inevitably blame you even though it had nothing to do with you... But the week of the wedding she was panicking so much that she accepted your offer to step in at the last minute if she needed it. Which is what you did...in your own inimitable way.'
Sylvie blushed, thinking of that daring moment again. Arkim looked equable enough right now, but she knew how deep his emotions went, and how he simmered.
Trepidation gripped her.'Were you angry with her?'
For a second he just looked at her, and then he said with faint incredulity,'Even now your first concern is whether or not I got angry with her?'
Sylvie squirmed.'Well, I know how intimidating you can be.'
Arkim's mouth thinned.'At first I was angry, yes.' He reacted to the look that crossed Sylvie's face.'I had a right to be. Both of you made me a laughing stock. If Sophie had just come to me and explained I would have understood. I'm not such an ogre. Hell.'
He turned away in disgust, to look out of the window. Sylvie felt immediately chastened. She knew that he wouldn't have taken it out on Sophie...all of Arkim's anger was only ever for her.
She pushed down the sense of futility.'You're right,' she said in a quiet voice.'I should have come to you myself and said something... If we'd been able to stop the wedding a week before it would have avoided the messy scandal it became. But I knew how unlikely it was that you'd believe anything I said...'
Some of the tension seemed to leave his shoulders. He turned back, those black eyes like pools of obsidian. To Sylvie's surprise, his mouth quirked ever so slightly on one side.
'I guess I have to give you that... I would have seen it as just another jealous attempt to make me notice you.' His expression became shuttered.'I believed you were jealous...you let me believe that, like a fool.'
She knew she owed him total honesty now-especially after Sophie's bravery-albeit belated. She forced herself to look at him.'The truth is...as much as I was doing it for Sophie I was jealous. I wanted you...for myself.'
She hadn't even properly admitted that to herself until this moment. Her head felt light.
Arkim's eyes gleamed. He breathed out.'I knew it...'
For a second she thought he was about to reach for her, and her whole body tingled, but then a discreet tap came from nearby. It took a minute for her to figure out that the driver was knocking on the partition, alerting them to the fact that they'd pulled up outside a building on a quiet street.
Sylvie felt a little dizzy. She looked out of the window and didn't immediately recognise much, except for the fact that they were in a very expensive part of Paris. Her voice was husky.'Where are we?'
'My apartment building on the Île Saint-Louis.'
She looked back to Arkim. She felt confused, she wasn't sure where they stood any more.
He said,'I have something for you upstairs.'
She joked weakly,'That's not a very original chat-up line.'
He was serious.'It's not a chat-up line. I really do have something for you.'
'Oh.' She instantly felt silly. The driver-as if knowing just the perfect moment to capitalise on her doubts-appeared at her door and opened it. By the time she was standing, clutching her bag, Arkim was waiting for her, darkly handsome and very vital-looking against the grey stone of the old building.
How was it that he could look so devastating, no matter what milieu he was in? she grumbled to herself as she let him lead her into the building. She felt very dishevelled when she saw the marble floor and discreetly exquisite furnishings. And the uniformed concierge who treated Arkim like royalty.
There was a lift attendant, and Sylvie almost felt like giggling. It was so far removed from the constantly out of use elevator in her rickety building in Montmartre.
The lift came to a smooth stop and Arkim led her into a luxuriously carpeted hall, with one door at the end. He opened it and she walked in cautiously, her eyes widening as she took in the parquet floors and quietly sumptuous decor.
The reception rooms were spacious, with floor-to-ceiling French doors looking out over Paris and the Seine. The furniture was antique, but not fussy. Comfortable, inviting.
Drawn by something she'd spotted, she walked over to the opposite side of the room and stood before a black and white photo.
'It's Al-Hibiz.'
Arkim's voice was close enough to set Sylvie's nerve endings alight. 'Yes,' she said, remembering her first view of the majestic castle. A terrible sense of longing for that wide open landscape washed over her. The oasis.
This was torture, being so close to Arkim again and yet not really knowing what he wanted from her. She whirled around and he was a lot closer than she'd expected, within touching distance.
'Arkim?' Her voice croaked humiliatingly.
He was staring at her mouth.'Yes...'
So she looked at his...at the strong sensual lines. And his jaw, so resolute. From the moment she'd first seen him she'd had that instinct to smooth the stark lines of his face.
She didn't know who moved first, but it was as if attracting ions finally overcame the tension between them, and then she was in his arms, her whole body straining against his, her arms tight around his neck. Their mouths were fused, tongues tangled in a desperate hungry kiss, the breath being sucked out of each other's bodies to mix and mingle and go on fire. Arkim's hands shaped and cupped Sylvie's buttocks, lifting her up, encouraging her legs to wrap around him.
She wasn't even aware that Arkim had collapsed onto a couch behind them until she pulled back from the kiss to gasp in air and realised that her thighs were wedged open, tight against his, and she could feel the potent thrust of his arousal against where she ached.
She felt shaky. The fire had blasted up around them so quickly.'Arkim...what are we-?'
He put a finger to her lips. He looked fierce.'Don't say anything-please. I need this. I need you. Now.'
There was something raw in his tone...something that resonated deep inside her. Who was she kidding? She needed this too. Desperately.
She levered herself against him, pushing back. Infused with a sense of confidence borne out of what this man had given her at that oasis, Sylvie stood up and slowly and methodically took off her clothes until she was naked.
He looked...stunned. Hypnotised. In shock. In awe.
Sylvie came back and straddled him again, every inch of her skin sensitised just from his look. His hands came to her waist and she felt a slight tremor in them. She reached down between them and undid his trousers, pulled him free, smoothing her hand up and down the silken length of his erection, her whole body flushing red with lust.
The fact that she was naked and he was still almost fully dressed was erotic in the extreme. But when Arkim's mouth latched on to her nipple, Sylvie's fleeting sense of being in control quickly evaporated, and he skilfully showed her who was the real master here. She was rubbing against him, thick and hard between her legs, feeling her juices anointing his shaft.
Arkim groaned and dropped his head against her and said,'I need to be inside you...now.'
Sylvie raised herself up in wordless acquiescence while Arkim extricated protection from his pocket, smoothing the thin latex sheath onto his penis.
His hands were back on her waist-tight, urgent. He positioned her so that her slick body rested just over his tip and with exquisite care, as if savouring the moment, he brought Sylvie down onto his erection. She inhaled as he filled her, almost to the point of pain but still on the side of pleasure. When he was as deep as he could go he held her there for a moment, before it got too much and he had to move again...
There was nothing but the sound of their laboured breathing in the quiet apartment as the frenzy overtook them. Her knees were pressed to his thighs, her hands gripping his shoulders. Her whole body tightened and quickened as Arkim thrust hard and deep up into her, hips welded to hers. He was so deep...deeper than ever before. She could feel her heart beating out of time. And when the explosion hit there was nowhere to hide.
Sylvie's head was thrown back, her eyes shut, every muscle and sinew taut, as waves and waves of release flowed through her body, wrenching her soul apart. And Arkim was with her every step of the way, his own body as taut as a whip under hers.
It was so excruciatingly exquisite that it almost felt like a punishment. As if Arkim was doing this on purpose, just to torture her. It was shattering.