His Defiant Desert Queen(98)
That she deserved so much more than he could give.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JEMMA LAY IN his arms on the blanket in the sand, resting comfortably, happily. There was no place she’d rather be than here, in his arms, against his chest. “What day is this?” she asked, lifting her chin, to look at him.
“I think I’ve lost count,” he said, smoothing her hair back from her brow.
She lifted a brow. “Really? I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“So what day is it?”
“Day eight. The last day and night of your half of our honeymoon.”
She waited for him to say something. He didn’t.
“Tonight you are still in control,” she added, blushing a little. “But tomorrow I take over. Tomorrow I’m in charge for the next eight days and nights.”
She smiled into his eyes, waiting impatiently for him to say something, something warm and sexy. Something encouraging. Something.
But he didn’t speak. He just looked at her, his dark eyes somber, expression grave.
Her heart did a funny double beat. Nervous and uncomfortable, she chewed the inside of her lower lip. “You’ve gone awfully quiet,” she murmured.
His jaw shifted, his lids dropping, hooding his eyes. “I have been thinking a great deal about tonight.”
“So have I. I think it’s time you let me pleasure you.”
“I don’t think there is going to be a tonight.”
Jemma froze. Blinked.
“There is just...today,” he added quietly.
For a second she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything at all.
“I married you so you wouldn’t have to remain in Haslam under house arrest for seven years. But the eight days are up. I have fulfilled my responsibility as a groom, and I can now return you to London, without losing face.”
She still couldn’t take it all in. She took his words apart, bit by bit, processing them. Digesting them.
He didn’t want an eighth night. He didn’t want to be married to her. He intended to put her on a plane for London.
She licked her lips, her mouth dry. Parched. “I’m confused,” she whispered.
“I did what needed to be done,” he said carefully, after an endless moment, a moment where the silence cut, wounded.
Jemma slowly pulled away, and then scooted away, and sat up. She crossed her legs, hiding herself. “You never intended to keep me as your wife?”
“It’s not feasible. Nor realistic. My mother wasn’t happy in Saidia. You wouldn’t be happy here, not long term. You’d be better marrying an American or a European man. Someone Western with Western thought processes and beliefs.”
“So all this time...these eight days and the past seven nights...what was it about? Just sex?”