Emily tried not to be shocked, but she knew she hadn’t succeeded when one corner of his mouth curled in a hard smile.
“I failed to tell you what kind of dysfunctional family I have, didn’t I? Well, here it is—my father is dead, and I don’t feel much of anything at the moment but anger. And not for the reasons you would suppose.” He clenched his hands into fists as his side. “He wasn’t a kind man, or a loving man. He was exacting and proud, and though I loved him when I was a child, I grew to fear him. And then I despised him.”
She couldn’t imagine feeling that way about her father, but her mother was a different story. She’d been angry with her mother for years now.
“If you mean to shock me, you are doing so. But not for the reasons you suppose.”
“You aren’t horrified to your sweet little core that I couldn’t stand the man who left me a crown? That his death doesn’t bother me nearly as much as the situation I now find myself in?”
“I didn’t live your life, Kadir. It’s not my place to decide how you should be feeling right now.”
He laughed. It was a bitter, angry sound. And then he ripped his headdress off and tossed it on the cushions. “Damn, Emily, I wish we’d been more honest with each other a long time ago.”
Her heart beat hard. “That’s not the kind of relationship we had.”
He stalked toward her, stopped before he got too close. He vibrated with suppressed energy. “No, it’s not. But I wish it had been.” His gaze slid down her body, back up again. “I wish I’d noticed what was under those dull suits of yours. I wish I’d taken your hair down years ago and plundered your mouth until you begged me to strip you naked and kiss the rest of you.”
Emily’s breath shortened. “You don’t mean that. You’re just angry and upset—”
He moved closer and her voice died in her throat. All he had to do was reach out and touch her. She found herself wishing he would do so. Holding her breath waiting for him to do so.
And wondering how to say no if he did.
“I am angry, but I’ve wanted you for days now.” He picked up the braid she always wore to bed and undid the elastic while her heart pounded hard. Then he started to unbraid her hair, shaking it loose with his fingers until it flowed over her shoulders and down her back. “I think I’ve wanted you for a very long time.”
Emily swallowed. “Don’t say that. You didn’t look at me twice before Guido—”
“I did look, Emily. I looked a lot. And yes, I brought Lenore home—so many women home—but I looked at you and I wondered what it was about you. Why I was comfortable with you. Why I tried to provoke a reaction out of you. Why it made me happy when you frowned at anyone I was with. Why I looked forward to mornings and you being there—”
Emily cried out as she put a hand over his mouth. She couldn’t bear to think of any of it just now. To think of it ending. “Stop! Don’t say these things. Don’t make me want...”
He took her arm and tugged her closer. His mouth landed on the inside of her wrist, his breath against her skin. A fiery current of need shot down her spine and into her sex as his tongue slid over her.
“Want what, Emily? This?”
He licked her skin again and an answering shudder rolled through her. She had never, not once in her whole life, wanted a man as desperately as she wanted this one. It was crazy but true. She’d had boyfriends, she’d had sex—though not in a very long time—and she knew what it felt like to be wanted and to want.