He had been stroking her fingers, but now he stopped. Orla could feel the heat they were both generating pressing in on them, wrapping them in an invisible cloak of sensual longing."Rakesh will have brought our dinner.""Then we’d better go and eat it."Simple words, and yet the messages their other senses were exchanging went far deeper and were far more intimate.Dusk was stealing the light and the heat from the gardens, cloaking them in soft shadows. Orla didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when Arni didn’t pause to kiss her as he guided her to the steps that led up to his private quarters and took her into a traditionally styled salon with low-lying divans drawn up around a table. Jewel-coloured glass lamps illuminated the room in rich reds and ambers, and scented smoke perfumed the air. The strains of soft music echoed softly through the scented darkness, brushing against Orla’s senses like a physical touch. This was foreplay, Kama Sutra-style, and already she was
Arni had been right. As the days had turned into weeks and the weeks into months—three of them, to be exact—there had been many wonderful times. There had been night after night during which she had thought she had climbed the heights, only to discover those heights had been mere foothills of pleasure.Orla admitted she was a very eager student—his pleasure was hers, and hers was his.There had been nights when they had lain on the divans and Arni had shown her the beautifully illustrated plates in the ancient copy of the Kama Sutra he had told her he had bought as a young man in a bazaar. It had originally been the property of a maharaja whose library had been sold, he had explained to her, and was of immense cultural and financial value.He had read the text to her, his voice sensually soft and erotic as he stroked the words as delicately as he stroked her skin. Uncertainly at first, but then with growing confidence, Orla studied the illustrated plates whilst Arni encouraged her to
He no longer read the Kama Sutra to her because now they had created their own personal repertoire of intimate pleasures—pleasures she had taken eagerly and adapted inventively to her own needs and to his, making them special and personal by the way she had put her own mark on them.And on him?Arni frowned. His thoughts were fast-tracking down a route that was becoming all too familiar. No commitment, he had said, and he had meant it. He still meant it.His car was waiting for him. He preferred to drive himself. He removed his suit jacket, throwing it into the back of the car along with his laptop and his case.He had seen Nihal whilst he had been in Mumbai, and the art director was pressuring him to set up an interview with Orla. The advertising was booked for the launch of the development, and he had seen the photographs of the interiors and understood why the agency he had hired to market the development had been so enthusiastic about its success.Orla had excelled in his remit an
She just hoped that her potential client kept their appointment, Orla thought as she walked through the entrance of the expensive and very exclusive boutique hotel suggested by the client as a meeting place. Far too exclusive and discreet to have anything as commercial as a foyer, its entrance hall was more like the entrance to a private home.An elegantly dressed woman wearing what Orla suspected might be Chanel greeted her and suggested that she might like to wait in a private sitting room, overlooking their equally private garden.The hotel had been designed by a very well-known design team and showed all their hallmark touches. Orla was impressed and envious.It had been six weeks since she had left India, and each one of them had felt like its own special version of hell.Things had to get better. She had to get better. And she had to get over Arni. She had to stop loving him and wanting him. She had to."Hello, Orla."Arni! She stood up, and then had to sit down again as her leg
She’s dead now. She died when I was twelve. Like mother, like daughter—that’s what the great-aunt who took me in after her death used to say to me. It’s what people think, isn’t it? I feared at one stage that I could grow up to be like her myself. She often said to me herself that I wouldStill silence."You’re shocked, of course. and disgusted. People are—it’s only natural. What kind of responsible parent would want their child to play with a child whose mother sold her body to buy drugs? Certainly the parents of the children I was at school with didn’t, and who could blame them? And what kind of man would want to take the risk of having a relationship with a woman whose mother had sex with men for money? You won’t want me now, Arni. I know that. You have a responsibility, after all, to your name and to your position.’Was that why you stayed a virgin? Because of your mother?’His question surprised her into looking at him. The silver-grey gaze was filled with something that looked c
New story alert!!!TITLE: Claimed by the Greek LordKassandra Jeno collapsed onto the plastic chair behind her small desk, her knees buckling out from under her. The red stamp spelling out "REJECTED" on the application form blurred in front of her eyes. Her heart squeezed painfully as she fingered the flat sketches on her drawing board, the possibility of seeing her creation take form now evaporating like a puff of smoke.Sweat ran down her back, the slow whir of the ceiling fan scraping against her nerves. She ran her cramped fingers over her neck, feeling the muscles tighten with tension.Mrs. Petru, the buying manager for a retail store, had given Kassandra only two months to create her first collection, and all Kassandra had now were flat sketches. And as she had to do everything herself instead of contacting a factory like she did for the fashion house, every minute was important.The most important of those being the funds she requires to source raw materials, There were a hundr
Kassandra clutched the leather seat of the taxi, holding onto it like a lifeline, the curious glances the cabbie threw her way doing nothing to propel her out.She took a deep breath and looked out the dirty window. The marina was busy, and a few of the yachts moored there were highlighted by the setting sun. But even amidst the loud luxury, one yacht stood out, its gleaming white exterior splendid in the setting sun's light.She took the bills out of her gold-lined clutch and handed them over. This was it.She didn’t let herself think. She didn’t let herself even look around over the next few minutes. Keeping her shoulders straight and her head held high, she reached the security personnel guarding the planked entrance. Except for the glimpse of recognition in his gaze, the six-footer didn’t budge a muscle.Kassandra raised an eyebrow haughtily, the gesture taking everything she had.Yes, she had spent the past five years working as an apprentice in a mid-level fashion house, away fr
She pulled herself up and kissed her companion’s smooth, almost boyish jaw and whispered "sorry."It wasn’t the poor guy’s fault that he had no knowledge of who she was, or he wouldn’t have dared to touch her. He would have sidled away from her, treating her like a pariah as the rest of the crowd had done once Kal had walked by, his gray gaze devouring her with unhurried interest. Once they had all realized she was Kassandra Jeno Timandros, prisoner and possession of Darian Timandros, she was not to be looked at or even spoken to, especially by another man.Because Tobias, her one friend who hadn’t turned away from her, who had tried to contact her even after Rhode’s death and her marriage, had ended up in jail on some trumped-up charges Darian and that equally arrogant Kal had fabricated out of thin air.The depth of her hatred for Darian left her shaking uncontrollably.A steel band wound around her waist and jerked her away from the stranger. Maybe he was even a teenager, she thoug
He moved suddenly, turned to her, and gripped her arms; she glimpsed the desperation in his eyes as he dragged her against his chest. "I will do whatever it takes to win you back, Kalila." "You are my wife, the love of my life, and I won’t let you go." His warm breath fanning the curls that framed her face, he pressed his lips to her temple, his eyes briefly closing as if in pain."I have told my father to name his brother Sulim as the interim ruler of Qubbah in the event of his dying before Hazem comes of age." Kate stared at him, shocked beyond words. "But... but why?" she finally stumbled.I thought that you were to rule until Hazem was older. "You are the King’s only son, and it is your duty." Ahsan shook his head. "My first duty is to my wife, and my father agrees." Even if he did not, I would still be here for you."Don't you understand, Kalila?" he asked urgently. "You are more important to me than Qubbah, my father, everything." You, me, and Hazem are a family, and the only thin
The still silence in the garden that followed his astounding statement was broken by the piercingly sweet song of a blackbird. Kate licked her suddenly dry lips, her heart beating so fast she was sure it would explode. "I don’t understand.""It’s quite simple." He sounded impatient and stared at her haughtily. But to her amazement, streaks of dull color highlighted his cheekbones, and his eyes veered from hers as if he were afraid to meet her gaze. "I love you, Kate."Her rebuttal was fierce and immediate. "No, you don’t.""I should have known you would want to argue about it, Kalila." A little of his tension left him, and his smile stole her breath."You don’t love me," she said again. It was probably some cruel trick, and she had more sense than to be fooled. "You married me for Hazem." You love Farrah. Malika said so.Malika said a lot of things, most of them untrue. Ahsan’s voice was suddenly harsh."But not the things she said about me," Kate said thickly. "My mother was a prosti
The blue sky was dotted with cotton wool clouds, and the warm breeze carried a scent of lavender and old-fashioned roses. There was no place on earth more beautiful than Ingledean on a spring day, Kate mused—except an oasis in the middle of the desert, where palm trees provided shade from the scorching sun and an azure pool glinted beneath a cloudless sky.She had been home for a month—although Ingledean no longer felt like home without Hazem. The image of his huge brown eyes and impish smile caused the familiar agonizing pain in her chest, and she bit down hard on her lip, tasted blood, and cursed the tears that slid unchecked down her face. She couldn’t cry forever. Somehow she was going to have to find the strength to move on, pick up the threads of her life, or maybe make a new one, far away from Ingledean and all its memories. But since she had left Qubbah, a terrible lassitude had settled on her, and she could not plan anything when the only two people she loved were far away on
In less than an hour, she was expected to attend the lavish dinner organized in honor of King Kabir’s recovery and his return as supreme ruler of Qubbah. And somehow she was going to have to do so without revealing that she was breaking up inside, which Kate acknowledged despairingly as she stared in the mirror at her paper-white face and red-rimmed eyes.When she first returned to the palace after her explosive confrontation with Malika, she locked herself in her dressing room and recalled, in stunned disbelief, everything the young Arab woman had told her. Could it be true? Had Ahsan always intended to divorce her once he’d gained custody of Hazem and marry his beautiful advisor?She did not know how long she’d sat there, but eventually her maid had knocked on the door and reminded her that it was time to prepare for the banquet. She should have made the excuse that she was ill—no one who saw her pallor would fail to believe her. But the steely backbone of pride that had seen her th
Despite the warmth of the early-evening sunshine, Kate shivered. "You’re talking nonsense," she said firmly, striving to sound confident despite the sudden lurch of her heart. She was perfectly aware of why Ahsan had married her, but he had given no hint that he wanted a divorce. Ahsan told me he was never engaged to you. She lifted her chin and glared at Malika, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach."He wasn’t," Malika agreed, looking surprised. "I was engaged to Farhan; Ahsan was engaged to Farrah."The world seemed to tilt alarmingly for a few seconds, and Kate actually gripped the edge of the wall for support. Ahsan and Farrah! It couldn’t possibly be true, could it? "Jamila told me that Ahsan was in love with his fiancée," she said faintly. "She doesn’t know why the marriage didn’t take place."Malika gave a careless shrug. ‘Jamila knows. Everyone at the palace knows that Ahsan adored Farrah and that she eloped with his brother on the eve of their wedding.
He was suddenly aware that the children had finished their dance and everyone was waiting for his response. Kate had turned her head to him, frowning at his inattention, and he quickly clapped his hands in applause. Once the dancers had filed out of the marquee, his personal assistant Zaid appeared at his side and informed him that a group of local potters had brought their best work for his gracious inspection. Stifling a sigh, he led the royal party out into the blazing sunshine.The garden party continued all afternoon, and Ahsan was not in the best of moods when he strode back to the palace. He suddenly realized that he was too far ahead and slowed his pace, waiting for Kate to catch up with him. He frowned when he noted how pale she looked beneath her wide-brimmed hat. She made no attempt to speed up, and the dejected droop of her shoulders fueled his impatience."I appreciate that an afternoon spent admiring traditional crafts and customs is not likely to top your list of exciti
Her feet briefly touched the floor, and he spun her around, tugged her zip down her spine, and removed her dress before she had time to catch her breath. Her bra went the same way before he lifted her again and threw her onto the bed as if she were a rag doll, his eyes glittering with a mixture of anger and sexual hunger that made Kate’s stomach dip."At night, I’m happy to give you all the attention you could possibly want," he growled, his shoes, trousers, and shirt hitting the floor with barely controlled savagery until he stood in his silk boxers. "This is the only bed you’ll ever sleep in." The boxers joined the rest of his clothes, revealing his powerful, unashamedly aroused body in all its glory. "But I wouldn’t bank on sleeping for many hours yet."Kate stared up at him, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to control the wild excitement that was pounding through her veins. She was conscious that she was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny lace pants and the pric
Clearly embarrassed, Aaliyah determinedly changed the subject to Hazem and how fast he was growing. But although Kate smiled and made token conversation, her mind was whirling. If Malika’s family had expected her to marry Ahsan, was she the woman he had been engaged to years ago—the woman Jamila had said he had loved? But, if so, why had they not married? It didn’t make sense, and she brooded miserably as she stared at Ahsan. He was smiling at Malika and clearly enjoying her company. Perhaps they had argued and broken off their engagement. Was he now regretting his lost chance to marry a beautiful, clever Arab girl who would have made him the perfect wife?From that moment on, the party became a blur of faces and stilted conversation with people she had never met before. She was sure they viewed her as an oddity, with her pale skin and vivid hair—and her glaring lack of sophistication. But until his father had recovered, Ahsan was king, and one of her wifely duties outside of the bedr
As Ahsan had predicted, his team of advisors was waiting for him when they arrived back at the palace. Even on the journey across the desert, he’d had his mobile phone clamped to his ear, and Kate had sat silently beside him, lost in her thoughts. The honeymoon was over, and he had made it abundantly clear that he now saw her role as his wife as a walk-on part—or perhaps a lie-down part, she thought bitterly. But what had she expected? She had married him for Hazem, and he had married her for sex, and they had each gotten what they wanted.At least she had Hazem, she told herself later that evening, when she tucked the toddler into bed. She had missed him desperately, and his evident delight that she was back was a comforting balm to her raw emotions. She was Ahsan’s wife, a member of the Royal Family of Qubbah, and no one could ever take him away from her now.But as she prepared for the state banquet, her insecurities returned, and she felt sick with nerves. She had been horrified w