With an effort, she pulled away from him, sliding across the cool sheet to the other side of the bed and putting a wide expanse between them. ‘A kiss, I said.’
She heard the disbelief in his voice, which he failed to disguise. ‘And that’s all?’
A wave of power washed over her—so potent, that it was almost worth the aching sense of frustration which was gnawing away at her. ‘That’s all.’ She yawned and then turned her back on him. ‘Goodnight, Murat.’
For a moment there was silence until, with what sounded like a small growl, he snapped off the light so that the room was plunged into darkness.
She might have been frustrated, but Catrin felt curiously liberated as she lay there, listening to Murat moving restlessly beside her. And maybe all the see-sawing emotional energy had exhausted her, because her eyelids grew heavy and her body began to relax against the mattress.
When her eyelashes fluttered open, it was to discover that it was morning and that Murat was already awake. He lay propped up on one elbow watching her—his powerful body striped with gold by the shafts of sunlight filtering in through the blinds. Usually, she would have lifted a lazy finger to his lips, or touched his hard, bare torso with a hand which had already begun to tremble with lust. Or leaned forward to kiss him.
But as she had told him last night, this was not usual.
Beneath the duvet, she stretched, aware of the hungry gaze which swept over her, glad he couldn’t see the way that her breasts prickled instantly in response.
‘Sleep well?’ he questioned drily.
‘Like a baby. Did you?’
‘No.’ He gave a hard smile. ‘Did you really expect me to, when I had you beside me like some hormonally charged distraction? Allowed to look but not to touch—something I found especially difficult in view of the fact that your goodnight kiss nearly blew me away.’
Remembering the near-innocence of that kiss, Catrin levered herself up the bed a little and looked into the dark gleam of his eyes. ‘Then I must thank you for not touching.’
‘You’re welcome.’
But his curt reply was replaced by a look which came as close to confusion as any she’d ever seen on his face before.
‘Do you know,’ he mused, ‘that’s actually the first time I’ve ever kissed a woman without having sex with her afterwards.’
‘And how did it feel?’
‘How do you think it felt? How many words in the dictionary are there to describe frustration?’ He lay back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the restless night he’d endured. Yet his restraint had been commendable, hadn’t it? At one point she had snuggled up to him, still fast asleep. He’d felt the warmth of her soft flesh as her body had unconsciously invited him to hold her closer, as it had done a hundred times before. And he had found himself unbearably tempted to indulge in that half-asleep sex which always seemed so lazy and decadent.
But he had resisted. As surely as the falcon flew across the desert sands, he had wriggled away from her and spent the next few minutes in a torture of exquisite agony. He had overridden his own desires and told himself that he had no choice. He didn’t want Cat waking up to find him making love to her and then accusing him of taking advantage of her. Yet the experience had left him shaken and slightly bewildered, because it wasn’t like him to tiptoe around a woman’s feelings.