Never Seduce a Sheikh(51)

She moved against him, the scent of her sweet and musky with sex and sleep. Her arm crept across his chest, her face nuzzling into his neck. His body began to wake, began to get hard.

He hadn’t intended to stay the whole night, but she’d been impossible to resist. The freedom he found in her arms he would never find anywhere else, with anyone else. Because only she knew him. All his terrible secrets. The darkest corners of his soul. Only she knew them and matched them with her courage and strength, and indomitable spirit.

Lily’s pale lashes fluttered and swept up, eyes the color of bittersweet chocolate meeting his.

And for one long moment, all he wanted to do was stay here with her. Keep her in his arms. Shut out the world for as long as possible, grasp the freedom she gave him while he could.

Freedom from control. From fear. From the taint of Khalid that lived in his heart.

One last, fleeting, stolen moment.

Lily’s gaze abruptly slid away, her cheeks flushing. “Well, I guess we have things to do.” She turned, preparing to move. Preparing to leave.

His arm tightened instinctively, holding her still. “Stay,” he ordered in a low voice. “We don’t have to get up just yet.”

“Oh, I think we do.” Her voice had gone cool, back to those poised CEO tones. “I have a lot of work that needs to be done now that the contract is going to go ahead.”

He didn’t like that. Didn’t like the way she turned away from him, distancing him. Why? When she hadn’t last night? He spread his hand on her stomach and pulled her back against him. “There will be time for that.” He kissed her shoulder, slid his hand higher to cup one full breast.

Lily shivered. “Let me go.”

He bit her gently, swept his thumb over her nipple. “I think not.”

“No, Sheikh.” Her body went stiff. “Let me go.”

Last night they’d spent a lot of time exploring each other’s boundaries, testing them. Carefully pushing them. She had said ‘no’ to him many times as part of the fantasy. But this ‘no’ was different. She meant it this time.

A curious tension coiled inside him as he slowly he eased away from her. “Why? What is wrong?”

She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him, long blonde hair in a glorious fall down her spine. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s fine. I just—”

“Lily.” He could read the tension in her posture. Every line of her was stiff with it.

She let out a breath, her head bent. When she spoke, her CEO front had dropped. “You don’t want this to happen again, I know. You were clear yesterday. But you should know that I find that . . . difficult.”

The tension coiled tighter inside him. “Difficult?”

“I like being with you. I like being your lover.” Another hesitation. “I like it too much to want it to end.”

Isma’il stared at her long, naked back and found his mind starting to turn over the possibilities. Of seeing her again. He had various houses throughout the world—perhaps they could meet there from time to time? Spend a few days, a few nights in each other’s arms.

Stealing a few more hours of freedom . . .

Yearning opened up inside him and for a second, it seemed like the perfect solution.

Until, logic kicked in. A few more hours, a few days, a few nights snatched here and there. Fragments of time. Fleeting moments. Because that’s all he’d ever have. He was the ruler of a country and she the CEO of an oil company; they both had very busy jobs. When would he get the time to see her? And then what would happen when he married? He would have to break it off. Settle down to the task of starting a family, getting an heir.

The tension inside him became a hard knot, impossible to unravel. No, he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t use Lily like that. Because that’s what he’d be doing. Using her to clutch at those moments of freedom. And she was worth more than that. So much more.

So much more than anything you could give her.

“Then perhaps, it is for the best if we finish this now.” The words sounded cold and flat.

Her shoulders hunched. “Yes. It is.”

Isma’il cursed, hating the hurt he could hear in her voice. “You know it is not because I do not want you.”

She’d gone very still, but she said nothing, as if waiting for him to speak.

“I am a sheikh. You are a CEO. We have busy lives. One day I will marry and—”

“Those are excuses, Isma’il,” she interrupted quietly. “They’re not reasons.”

Of course they are not reasons. You know why you cannot have her. Why you can never have her.

Because nothing could erase the past. He had blood on his hands. Blood that would never come out. Blood that would taint everything he touched. That would taint her too if he let it.