Defiant in the Desert(85)

                But that’s only if he accepts responsibility for the child, taunted a voice inside her head. He might do the modern-day equivalent of what your own father did and walk away from his son or daughter.

                Dunking a camomile teabag in a mug of boiling water, she heard the ring of her doorbell and wondered who it might be. The post, perhaps? Or some sort of delivery? Because nobody just dropped by in London on a weekday lunchtime. It could be a lonely city, she realised with a suddenly sinking heart—and this little flat was certainly no place to bring up a baby.

                A baby.

                The thought of what lay ahead terrified her, and she was so distracted that she’d almost forgotten about the doorbell when it rang again—more urgently this time. Her thin cotton dress was clinging to her warm thighs as she walked to the door, and she was so preoccupied that she didn’t bother to check the spyhole. When she opened the door, the last person she expected to see on her step was Tariq.

                She gave a jolt of genuine surprise, her tiredness evaporating as she feasted her eyes on him. She had thought of little else but him since he’d been gone, but the reality of seeing him again was a savage shock to the system. His physical presence dominated his surroundings just as it always did, even if the heavily hooded ebony eyes were watchful and his mouth more unsmiling than she’d ever seen it. He was wearing a shirt—unbuttoned at the neck—with a pair of faded jeans. He looked cool against the day, and the casual attire made him look gloriously touchable—the irony of that did not escape her.

                ‘Tariq,’ she said breathlessly, aware of the thunder of her heart. ‘This is a...surprise.’

                He nodded. A surprise for him, too, if he was being honest. He hadn’t intended to come and see her, and yet he’d found himself ordering his driver to bring him to this unfamiliar part of London.

                He’d spent a brutal two weeks chasing around Khayarzah looking for his damned cousin, and the office had felt strangely empty when he had returned to find that Izzy was still away. Not that there was anything wrong with Fiona, her replacement. She was a sweet girl, and very eager to please. But she wasn’t Izzy. His mouth hardened.

                ‘Can I come in?’

                ‘Of course you can.’

                Tariq walked in and she closed the front door behind him. It was the first time he’d ever been there, and he walked into the sitting room and looked around. It was a small room, and much less cluttered than her country cottage. A couple of photos stood on the bookshelf. One was of her standing in a garden aged about eight, squinting her eyes against the bright sunlight. One of those images of childhood you saw everywhere. But he had no such similar pictures of his own. There had been no one around with a camera to record his growing up. Apart from official ones, the only photos he had been in were those big group ones from school—when his darkly olive complexion and powerful build had always made him stand out from the rest of his year.

                He turned round as she walked into the room behind him. Her thick red curls had been scraped back and tied in a French plait, and her eyes looked huge. She looked so fragile, he thought—or was that simply because he hadn’t seen her for so long?

                He frowned. ‘I thought you’d have been back at work by now.’

                How formal he sounded, she thought. More the time-watching boss than the man who had shown her such sweet pleasure. ‘You did say that I could take three weeks. And it’s only been two.’

                ‘I know exactly how long it’s been, Izzy.’

                They stood facing each other, as if trying to acclimatise themselves to this new and unknown stage of their relationship. It felt weird, she thought, to be alone with him and not in his arms. To have a million questions tripping off the edge of her tongue and be too afraid to ask them.

                Tell him.

                But the words still refused to be spoken. She told herself that she just wanted to embrace these last few moments of peace. A couple more minutes of normality when she could pretend that there was no dreaded truth to be faced. Two minutes more to feast her eyes on the face she’d grown to love and which now made her heart ache with useless longing.

                ‘Did you find your cousin?’ she questioned, raking back a strand of hair which had flopped onto her cheek.

                Tariq watched as the movement drew his attention to the lush swell of her breasts, and he felt the first twisting of desire. ‘Eventually,’ he said.

                ‘And was she okay?’

                ‘I haven’t come here to talk about my damned cousin,’ he said roughly.

                ‘Oh?’ Her voice lifted in hope. ‘Then what have you come here to talk about?’

                He looked at the soft curves of her unpainted lips and suddenly wondered just what he was fighting. Himself or her? ‘Nothing.’

                ‘Nothing?’ Her eyes were wide with confusion. ‘Then why are you here?’

                ‘Why do you think?’ he ground out, his black eyes brilliant as temptation overpowered him and he pulled her into his arms. ‘For this.’

                Isobel swayed as their bodies made that first contact and she felt the sudden mad pounding of her heart. Conscience fought with desire as he drove his mouth down on hers, and desire won hands down. Her lips opened and she made a choking little sound of pleasure as she coiled her arms around him. Because this was where she wanted to be more than anywhere else in the world. Back in the arms of Tariq. Because when she was there all her problems receded.

                ‘Oh, yes!’ Her helpless cry was muffled by the hard seeking of his lips. His urgent hands were in her hair and on her cheeks, and then skating down the sides of her body with a kind of fevered impatience, as if he was relearning her through touch alone. And greedily she began to touch him back.