Seduced by the Sultan(30)

                Her soft voice broke into his thoughts.

                ‘What about some coffee?’

                Relieved that some kind of normality was returning to a life which seemed to have been turned upside down, he nodded and smiled. ‘I’d love some.’

                But she was shaking her dark head and she seemed to be having difficulty controlling her laughter. ‘That isn’t what I meant. I’m not offering. My role as your quasi servant, as the woman who runs around making your life comfortable, is over. I’m preparing us both for the brave new world which lies ahead. So why don’t you make the coffee for once?’

                For a moment there was silence.

                ‘Me?’

                ‘You,’ she agreed.

                His eyebrows knitted together. ‘Are you serious?’

                ‘Never more so.’

                There was another pause during which he was clearly testing her resolve before he got out of bed. Towering over her, seemingly unaware that he was totally naked and very aroused, he held her gaze for a fraction too long before heading off in the direction of the kitchen.

                It was a small victory but one which pleased her inordinately, and once he’d gone Catrin took the opportunity to slip into the bathroom, where some of her composure left her. She stared at her face in the mirror. The no-sex of the proceeding night and this morning’s role reversal made what was happening seem almost like a dream. But it was not a dream, she reminded herself. It was real.

                And after this weekend, he would be gone from her life for good.

                She hated the fear which iced her skin as she tried to imagine life without Murat. What would fill the great empty space in her life, once her sultan lover was no longer coming home to her?

                She felt panic wash over her but she forced herself to push it away, telling herself that she had come through much worse than the end of a love affair. Did she really want to carry on living her life like that—docile and submissive and completely under the thumb?

                Like hell she did.

                Defiantly, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a light, silky shirt and went to find Murat in the kitchen, now dressed and pouring out two cups of delicious-smelling coffee.

                It was strange to see him in such an unfamiliar role and she walked over to one of the high stools around the breakfast bar, and sat down.

                ‘Smells good,’ she said as he handed her a cup. She took a cautious sip. ‘Tastes good, too. It’s funny, but I never imagined you adapting to domesticity with so much ease.’

                ‘Didn’t you realise that there’s no end to my talents?’ The glance he shot her was mocking. ‘Maybe you should have asked me to make you coffee before.’

                Catrin nodded. Maybe she should. ‘Although you have had servants running around after you all your life, so I wasn’t entirely sure you’d be able to cope.’

                ‘I don’t think you’d need to be an astrophysicist to be able to decipher the instructions on the side of a packet of coffee,’ he commented wryly. ‘And I have learnt the art of self-sufficiency in the desert.’

                ‘Really?’ She took another sip of coffee.

                ‘Really.’ His dark gaze swept over her. ‘Even a sultan must know how to fend for himself. I have made meals from roots and brewed pots of sweet tea when I have been setting up camp with my troops. Fundamental lessons of self-sufficiency are essential when preparing for warfare—and all men are equal in the desert.’