Awakened by Her Desert Captor(28)

 And when the waves subsided Sylvie subsided too, unable to keep  herself upright, collapsing against Arkim's chest, her head buried in  his neck.

 She felt like a car crash victim. As if some kind of explosion had  really just happened, knocking her out of orbit. The fact that his heart  was thundering under hers was no consolation. Her skin was hot, sticky,  but she was too wiped out to care.

 She whispered into his damp neck,'What are we doing?'

 She felt Arkim's chest swell underneath hers, making her sensitive breasts ache. His voice rumbled around her.

'We're doing that again...as soon as I can move...'         

     



 

 * * *

 Much later, when it was dark outside, Sylvie woke alone in a massive  bed. She was disorientated for a moment, and then the pleasurable aches  and tingles in her body and the tenderness between her legs helped her  to remember the last few cataclysmic hours.

 Arkim had been true to his word. As soon as he'd been able to move  he'd carried Sylvie into the bedroom, stripped, and proceeded to make  love to her all over again. Then they'd taken a shower...and barely made  it back to the bed before making love again.

 Sylvie groaned and rolled over, mashing her face into a soft pillow. What was she doing?

 She flipped back again and looked up at the exquisitely corniced  ceiling, her mind racing with the implications of what it all meant.  Arkim knew now. He knew everything. Everything she hadn't been able to  tell him out of loyalty to her sister.

 Feeling curious, and wondering where he was, Sylvie sat up, wincing as  tender muscles protested. She saw a robe at the end of the bed and  reached for it, sitting up to pull it on. It dwarfed her slim frame but  she belted it tightly around her, blushing when she thought of her  clothes, which must still be strewn in that elegant reception room.

 She padded barefoot out of the bedroom and back towards the main part  of the apartment. As she was passing a door that was slightly ajar she  noticed a dim golden light and heard a suspicious-sounding yap.

 She pushed open the door to find a study, three walls lined with  bookshelves and books. A huge desk was in front of the window, its  surface covered with a computer, laptop and papers... But her eyes  nearly popped out of her head when she saw Arkim sitting on the ground,  his back against the only bare wall in the room, wearing only a pair of  sweats and cradling a familiar-looking puppy in his arms.

 They both looked up at the same time, and it would have been comical  if Sylvie hadn't been so shocked. The little dog shot out of Arkim's  arms and raced over to Sylvie, yapping excitedly, its stubby little tail  waggling furiously. She crouched down and was almost bowled over by his  enthusiasm, his tongue licking wherever he could reach.

 When she was over her shock she looked at Arkim, who was still sitting  there, looking for all the world as if nothing untoward was going on. 'What on earth...? How did you get him here?'

 And why? Sylvie wanted to ask, but was afraid.

 Arkim shrugged one shoulder negligently.'I brought him back to the  castle with me that day...and then I just ended up bringing him to  Europe.'

 Sylvie's breath felt choppy all of a sudden, and her heart was  thumping hard. In a flight of fancy in her head she was imagining all  sorts of reasons that were all very, very dangerous.

 She buried her nose in his fur. When she looked up again she said,'He's all cleaned up...what is he?'

 Arkim's mouth quirked.'A Highland Westie mixed with something indeterminate.'

'Have you got a name for him yet?'

 He shook his head.'I couldn't think of one. But I want to give him to you...so you choose a name.'

 Sylvie's mouth fell open and the dog squirmed to be free, so she let  him out of her arms to go sniffing at something exciting nearby. 'But...but I can't take him. My apartment is tiny, and Giselle is  allergic to animal hair.'

 Arkim frowned.'Giselle?'

 Sylvie waved a hand.'My flatmate. Arkim...why are you doing this?'

 He rose lithely from his seat on the floor, his chest dark under its  smattering of hair in the golden light. He came over to her and held out  a hand. Sylvie took it and he pulled her up. He led her over to a seat  and sat down, pulling her into his lap. He smoothed her trailing hair  over one shoulder.

 She felt extremely unsure of her footing, and vulnerable.'Arkim-'

'That day...' he interjected.

 She nodded.

'I regretted sending you away like that.'

 Sylvie's heart palpitations were back.'You did?'

 He nodded, his black eyes on hers, not letting her look away.'I was a  coward. You were getting too close... I asked you if you'd thought we  were going to stay there for ever, but the truth is I think that's  exactly what I wanted. Never to leave. And it just hit me: I had a life  to get back to and I'd almost forgotten it existed. That I existed  outside of that place. I honestly haven't been able to stop thinking  about you. We're not done, Sylvie... I need more time with you.'         

     



 

'What exactly are you saying, Arkim?' Sylvie didn't like the  unpalatable questions being thrown up by his choice of words.'I need  more time with you...' It sounded finite. Definitely finite.

'I want you to move in with me. Stay with me for as long as...'

'For as long as what?' she asked sharply, tensing all over. Because  she very badly wanted him to say, For as long as you want. For ever.

'For as long as this lasts...this crazy, insatiable desire.'

 Finite. Definitely finite.

 She pulled away from Arkim and stood up before he could see how raw  she felt. The puppy sniffed around her feet and she picked him up and  held him against her, almost like a shield. How could Arkim manipulate  her like this? Give her a reminder of the exquisite pleasure he could  wring from her body...tell her he regretted the way he'd behaved...the  puppy...and now this. When her defences were down.

 Because this is the man who all but kidnapped you and held you in his castle at his pleasure when he wanted revenge.

 She pushed aside the memories crowding her head. She needed to lay it  out baldly for herself.'So you're asking me to become your mistress? Is  that it? And the dog is meant to sweeten the deal?' She made a sound of  disgust and turned round to face the window. How could she have been so  stupid...so-?

 She was whirled around again to face Arkim, looming tall and intimidating.

'No...it's not like that. I mean...yes, I want you to stay-but as my  lover...not as a mistress.' He sounded almost bitter.'Believe me, I  know by now that you would never languish idly at someone's beck and  call. And the dog... I hadn't even consciously realised I wanted him for  you, but I got your address from Sophie and I brought him with me. I  don't take mistresses,' he said.'I thought you'd know me well enough by  now to know that I don't indulge women like that. I don't do frills or  niceties.'

 No. He didn't. He could tear a woman's heart and soul to shreds just  by being him. Raw. Male. Uncompromising. Tortured, but with a deep core  of emotion that made her heart break.

'You were right, you know,' he said heavily.

 Sylvie finally found her voice.'About what?'

 Arkim grimaced.'About my motivations for agreeing to marry Sophie.  She represented something to me-something I'd always craved. A  respectable family unit.'

 And that just confirmed for Sylvie what she'd already guessed. Some  day Arkim would find a woman worthy of being his perfectly respectable  wife, and then he would do frills and niceties. She didn't doubt it.

 The hatred she felt for that future woman shocked her. But it also  made her see her own weakness. She wanted more too. She wanted to take  every atom of what Arkim was offering and gorge herself before he cast  her aside again. Or-if she had the strength-gorge herself so that she  could walk away before he could do it for her.

 She lifted her chin.'If I stay with you and we...we do this, I won't give up my job.'

 Arkim was very still.'I wouldn't expect you to.'

 Sylvie felt a spurt of relief mixed with pain. As long as she stayed  in her'job of ill repute' she'd remember who she was-and so would he.  There would be no dangerous illusions or dreams, no fantasies that  things could be different. Because they never could be. She was not the  woman who would share Arkim's life and mother his children. And she  needed to remember that.

 She forced a lightness to her voice that she wasn't feeling and said, 'Well, then, if this dog is really mine I'd better think of a name.'

 * * *

'That's a good boy, Omar...'

 Arkim stood at the door and watched Sylvie hand the puppy a treat from  her pocket as she lavished him with praise, rubbing him behind his  floppy ears. As far as he could tell the dog wasn't doing anything that  vaguely resembled obeying commands, but Sylvie was too besotted to care.

 He recalled the spontaneous urge he'd felt to take the dog with him  when he'd been leaving the oasis, obeying some irrational impulse  because it had been the last thing Sylvie had touched. And then he'd  spent a month tripping over the damn thing in London, talking to it as  if it could understand him.