Seduced by the Sultan(26)

                ‘No,’ she said, trying to ignore the look in his dark eyes. Trying not to be influenced by the caress of his words or the hateful prickle of her body. ‘Definitely not.’

                ‘Why not?’

                For a moment, she didn’t answer. How could she? It was hard to think about anything other than her own stupidity right then. She felt as if a veil had been lifted and suddenly she saw her life with disturbing clarity.

                She realised she hadn’t been as ‘modern’ as she’d thought. She hadn’t just been the Sultan’s ideal mistress because, all the time, it seemed she’d secretly been nurturing impossible dreams about him. Her foolish heart had been captured a man who had promised her nothing. She had fallen in love with someone who had always been off-limits. And if she was feeling pain now, then surely she should blame herself, not Murat.

                ‘Why not?’ he persisted. ‘Can’t we just have one last weekend together? Two days to say goodbye to each other...properly? Don’t we owe each other that much, Cat?’

                She looked at him. At the lips she had kissed a thousand times and the eyes which were blazing with dark fire. Her heart missed a beat. Never again would she see that face alive with passion. Nor feel the warmth of his embrace as he bent his head to kiss her.

                Pain flooded through her as she considered her options. She could pack her bag and take a cab to some nearby hotel. Bury her head on some alien pillow and sob her heart out. And then pick herself up and start a new life without him.

                But deep down she had no appetite for such drama. Her childhood had been characterised by the slamming of doors and the echo of retreating footsteps, and she had grown to hate such excesses of emotion. She heard one of the clocks chiming out midnight and she thought maybe Murat was right. Maybe ending it like this was all wrong. Shouldn’t the closing stages of their affair be conducted with the same clinical detachment which had always defined it—couldn’t they end it with some degree of civility?

                He didn’t know she had fallen in love with him and if she flounced out at this time of night, wouldn’t that only make it obvious? And that was how Murat would remember her. As sad Cat. Heartbroken Cat. As the woman who had laid her feelings on the line, even though she’d known it was hopeless.

                Maybe it was time to show him that she wasn’t some hapless victim. That she had enough resolve and experience not to let anything defeat her. She’d grown up fighting against the odds and time after time she’d come through. That was the real Cat.

                The question was whether she was strong enough to carry it off.

                She stared at him. ‘One weekend,’ she said. ‘No more.’

                ‘Cat—’

                He stepped towards her but she shook her head, halting him with an almost imperious raise of her hand. ‘No, Murat. I’m not in the mood for some passionate make-up sex. Quite frankly, I’m exhausted and I need some space. In fact, I’m going for a long bath and then I’m going straight to sleep. So please don’t bother waiting up for me.’

                She walked past him and, although her heart was beating like mad, she felt strangely calm. She had done the unthinkable—she had resisted him. She had agreed to his proposal, yes, but he was about to discover that it was going to be on her terms.

                Still revelling in her brief sense of triumph, she saw the unmistakable look of astonishment on his face.





                                      CHAPTER FIVE