His expression hardened with derision. “We’ll be on exactly the same level once we’re horizontal.”
Nice, she mentally scoffed, taking that remark like a sword in the gut, while the thought of being horizontal, with him atop her, shorted out her brain.
She startled at the way his hand gentled on her arm as it moved in a light caress that raised prickling sensations across her shoulders and up the back of her neck. He was making no effort to temper his sexuality and was quite overwhelming. Everything about him made her heart race with both apprehension and excitement. His touch was so possessive and strong that every little caress of his thumb against her skin would stay with her for the rest of her life.
“You really want me to believe you don’t want to?” he chided.
“Of course I want to,” she admitted painfully. There was no point in denying it. She was lousy at dissembling. Stronger people walked all over her because she had few natural defenses. It made her great with children and hopeless when it came to a captivating man like him.
So she realized what a chance she was taking in revealing how attracted she was to him. If he took it into his head to pursue her, she’d have no way of stopping him.
“Then let it happen.” His reassuring caress became something more, something drugging and inducing. “I’m not going to hurt you, Fern.”
“I’ve been given to believe differently,” she protested with the caustic sarcasm she hated resorting to, but her back was to the wall. “Apparently it does hurt. The first time.”
So there, she told him with a pointed look into stunned aqua eyes. Her face ached. Yes, she mentally transmitted. No one had ever wanted her enough to take her virginity. It was lowering and painful, but it was true.
Now her feet found the ability to propel her away to somewhere dark and small. Chest aching, she let her shaky legs carry her back to her tent.
* * *
Her plan was to shamelessly use the children as deflective shields if Zafir approached her, but he didn’t.
Which was unconscionably disappointing.
But what did she think? That she was irresistible? With this bedhead?
She’d woken from a deep sleep that had been an escape from a desire to cry. If an unfamiliar towel hadn’t been lying in a heap next to her still damp nightgown, she might have thought she’d dreamed the whole thing.
Sadly she hadn’t. And now Zafir knew she was a virgin. One who was inordinately hot for him.
Funny how Mother was always right. Lust did make you miserable. Fern supposed she ought to be glad it hadn’t also got her pregnant, kicked out of her home and abandoned by the father. She wouldn’t be so busy trying to make ends meet and raising a burden alone that life would pass her by in an astringent blur.
“Excellent!” Tariq declared, making Fern look up from kneeling next to Bashira as she helped the girl focus the microscope.
“What is?” she prompted, but a tickling shiver chased up her spine and she knew without following Tariq’s gaze over her head.
“My father is coming to take us for a walk.”
Standing, she pivoted to face Zafir, taking a breath to argue, but he stole her ability to speak simply by arriving and casting a respectful eye over her overturned wicker basket and tablet, which showed pictures of water bugs.