Mills & Boon Modern Romance Collection: February 2015. Кэрол Мортимер
hunger as instinctively she moulded herself to him. Asim threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her face to his.
‘Yes,’ he murmured against her ear, ‘Like that.’
‘No!’ She tried to insert space between them, levering herself back from his chest, even though the movement pushed her lower body against his and the friction there felt so good she almost groaned.
‘Wait,’ she gasped. ‘You mean you deliberately picked a fight to watch me lose my temper?’ Disbelief warred with something unbelievably close to delight.
‘I did nothing, habibti, but say I wished to speak with you. You did the rest and I’m man enough to enjoy the fireworks.’ His hand slipped down to her breast and she saw stars as he gently kneaded the sensitive mound.
‘You, you arrogant, conniving—’ Her head lolled as he nipped her earlobe and insinuated his hand beneath her shirt, tweaking her nipple. Fire arced, drawing her tight against his body.
‘And you don’t mind at all, do you, my sweet?’ he murmured as he kissed his way down her throat and delight rippled through her. ‘Because you’re not intimidated and making up is so very, very satisfying.’
Jacqui opened her mouth but all that emerged was a feathery sigh as she succumbed to his expert touch.
With a tight smile Asim swung her round so her back was to the wall. Then he proceeded to show her exactly how satisfying making up could be.
ASIM LEANED INTO HER, chest heaving, trembling in the aftermath of a climax that had blown him apart. Stars faded behind his closed lids.
He nuzzled the tender skin at the base of her neck, inhaling the scent of summer-ripened apricots. She shuddered and clenched around him one last time and impossibly he felt a flicker of renewed response.
Virile he might be but Jacqueline Fletcher pushed him to limits he’d never thought possible.
Was that why he’d sought her out in Samira’s rooms rather than whittle down the list of bridal candidates? He’d returned from his ride determined to give that task his full attention and instead he’d given in to temptation again. He hadn’t been able to settle as the clock had passed the hour for their usual appointment.
It disturbed him, how his usual control deserted him around her.
‘Asim?’ He loved hearing her voice like this, low and breathy. ‘You should put me down.’
For answer he widened his stance, wedging her tighter against the wall, her legs still around his waist. He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted her right where she was.
How long would it take to convince her she wasn’t too tall or her perfect breasts too small? That she was beautiful? It didn’t matter. He enjoyed demonstrating how wrong she was.
Except one day he’d have to put her aside when he took a wife. The realisation exploded his sense of well-being.
Some internal organ he couldn’t identify clenched hard in denial.
He distracted himself by kissing her bare shoulder. ‘You have the most perfect skin,’ he murmured. ‘Like cream. How did you grow up in Australia and not get covered in freckles?’
‘I have freckles!’
‘A smattering on your nose and a couple on your hands, no more.’
‘My mother insisted I cover up in the sun and I kept the habit of wearing long sleeves. It wasn’t difficult. Summers in Tasmania are short.’
She wriggled and reluctantly Asim decided it was time to move. The condom needed disposal, then they should talk.
Minutes later, after a slow kiss that left Jacqueline satisfyingly silent and starry-eyed, Asim headed for the bathroom.
His jaw set as he saw his reflection in the mirror. The dishevelled clothes didn’t bother him, but the unfamiliar expression in his eyes did. It was more than sexual satisfaction. More than smugness at having silenced the most argumentative, feisty woman he knew.
There was something disturbing about that look. He wished he knew what it was. Just as he wished he understood his feelings for Jacqueline.
They were lovers—simple.
Yet he’d never let any woman so close. Physical intimacy was one thing, but she’d inveigled her way into other parts of his life, his work, his thoughts, even his decision making.
He’d come after her to warn her about Samira. Not to warn her off—and that was another disturbing factor. With Jacqueline he’d slid too easily past distrust into acceptance that she was a woman of honour who wouldn’t harm his sister.
Asim breathed sharply, bewildered by his faith in her. Such trust went against every instinct. Asim had spent a lifetime standing alone, forced to rely on no one but himself.
His little sister had needed protecting as a child in the hothouse atmosphere of his parents’ unstable passion. They’d been so caught up in their roller-coaster relationship they’d used her as a pawn in their battles one day and neglected her the next. Samira still needed protection.
His grandmother... He trusted her and cared for her, but she hadn’t been there when he was young and now it was his role to look after her.
Yet with Jacqueline, who wasn’t even family, he found himself wanting to share parts of himself he never had before.
Asim shook his head. He was not becoming fixated on her. He was not repeating the mistakes of his father. He was in control.
* * *
Jacqui sat back in a chair beneath a courtyard tree and closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. As if that could calm her racing pulse.
She and Asim had just had frantic, raunchy, scream-out-loud sex against a wall and all she could think of was doing it again.
This was getting out of hand. She’d never thought of herself as highly sexed. If anything she’d wondered at her lack of libido. Was she becoming a sex addict?
Or, worse, addicted to Asim?
He’d tricked her into anger just to watch her temper catch fire! He’d been unrepentant and smug and she hadn’t been able to resist him. She hadn’t much put up even token resistance when he’d stripped her clothes away and taken her hard and fast and, oh, so satisfyingly. If anything, the remnants of her fury had added extra sizzle to the scorching experience.
The warm breeze stirred her clothes, reminding her of his breath on her skin. She sighed.
‘Pleasant thoughts?’ A finger trailed down her cheek, her throat, to swirl around her peaked nipple and she sat up with a jerk, eyes snapping open. Eyes as dark as midnight met hers and longing throbbed through her. To touch him, but more, so much more.
Shock hit her. She told herself it was the aftermath of the best sex of her life.
Pity she didn’t believe it.
Asim sank into a chair turned towards hers. He looked cool and collected, as if she’d imagined the last half hour. Jacqui felt again as if she played catch-up.
‘I want to talk to you about Samira.’
Jacqui blinked. ‘I’m not going to do a media piece about her.’ Surely he knew that?
Asim raised his hand. ‘I know you didn’t come here to investigate her. I know it was my grandmother’s idea to bring the two of you together.’
‘But?’
‘You need to know my sister is fragile at the moment.’
Slowly Jacqui nodded. ‘I’d picked that up.’ It wasn’t just the rings under Samira’s eyes but her mention