Desert Jewels & Rising Stars

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Desert Jewels & Rising Stars Page 348

by Sharon Kendrick


  She’d turned away from her furtive vigil at the window for a moment, so she nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang authoritatively. And all her previous thoughts were scrambled into a million pieces. Her hands were clammy. Her heart thumped. She walked to the front door and could see the looming tall, dark shape through the bubbled glass. She picked up her bag and cardigan and took a deep breath.

  When she opened the door she wasn’t prepared for the hit to her gut at seeing a stubble-jawed Kaden leaning nonchalantly against the porch wall, dominating the small space. He obviously hadn’t shaved since that morning, and flames of heat licked through her blood. He was so intensely masculine. He was in the same suit—albeit with the tie gone and the top button of his shirt open.

  His eyes were dark and swept her up and down as he straightened up. She tingled all over. Julia wished she’d put her hair up, it felt provocative now to have it down. Why had she left it down?

  Kaden arched a brow. “Shall we?”

  Julia sucked in a breath and finally managed to move. “Yes …” She pulled the front door behind her, absurdly glad that Kaden hadn’t come inside, and fumbled with the keys as she locked it. Kaden was waiting by the door of the car and helped her in. His hand was hot on her bare elbow.

  The car pulled off smoothly and Julia tried to quell her butterflies. Kaden’s drawling and unmistakably amused voice came from her right.

  “Are we going to a funeral?”

  She looked at him and could see him staring pointedly at her admittedly rather boring dress. She fibbed. “I didn’t have time to change after work.”

  His eyes rose to hers and he smiled. “Liar,” he mocked softly.

  Julia was transfixed by that smiling mouth, by the unbelievably sensuous and wicked lines. Her face flamed and her hand moved in that betraying reflex to her throat. She stopped herself just in time. She felt naked without his necklace. It was the first time she’d not worn it at home. Her hand dropped to her lap, and to hide her discomfiture she asked, “Where are we going?”

  To her relief Kaden released her from his all too intent gaze and looked ahead. “We’re going to the Cedar Rooms, in the Gormseby Hotel.”

  Julia was impressed. It was a plush new hotel that had opened in the past few months, and apparently there was already a year-long waiting list for the restaurant. Not for Kaden, though, she thought cynically. They’d be tripping over themselves to have him endorse their restaurant. Yet she was relieved at the idea of being in a public place, surrounded by people, as if that would somehow help her resist him and put up the fight she knew she must.

  Kaden was struggling to hang on to his urbanity beside Julia. Her dress was ridiculously boring and plain, but it couldn’t hide her effortless class, or those long shapely legs and the enticing swell of her bosom. Her hair was down, falling in long waves over her shoulders, and she wore a minimum of make-up. Once again he was struck that she could pass for years younger. And by how beautiful she was. She had the kind of classic beauty that just got better with age.

  The minute she’d opened the front door her huge swirling grey eyes had sucked him into a vortex of need so strong that he’d felt his body responding right there. Much as it had in that crowded room last night. A response he’d never had to curb for any other woman, because he’d always been in strict control.

  With Julia, though, his brain short-circuited every time he looked at her. It only fired up his assertion that this was just lust. With that in mind, and anticipating how urgent his desire would be by the time they got to dessert, he made a quick terse call in Arabic from his mobile phone.

  By the time they were on their desserts Julia had given up trying to maintain any kind of coherent conversation. The opulent dining room was arranged in such a way that—far from being surrounded by the public—she and Kaden were practically in a private booth. And it was so dark that flickering candles sent long shadows across their faces. It was decadent, and not at all conducive to remaining clear-headed as she’d anticipated.

  Their conversation had started out innocuously enough. Kaden had asked her about her career and why she’d taken the direction she had. She’d explained that her passion for fund distribution had grown when she’d seen so much misused funding over the years, and she’d seen it as the more stable end of archaeology, considering her future with a husband and family. To her surprise his eyes hadn’t glazed over with boredom. He’d kept looking at her, though, as if he wanted to devour her. Desperately trying to ignore the way it made her feel, she’d asked him about Burquat.

  It sounded like another country now—vastly different from the more rigidly conservative one she’d known. Once again she was filled with a rush of pride that his ambition was being realised.

  Scrabbling around for anything else to talk about, to take the edge off how intimate it felt to be sitting here with him, Julia said, “I saw something in the papers about drilling your oil-fields. There seems to be great interest, considering the world’s dwindling oil supplies.”

  “We’re certainly on the brink of something huge. Sultan Sadiq of Al-Omar is going to help us drill the oil. He has the expertise.”

  “Is that part of the reason why he’s marrying Samia?” Julia felt a pang of concern for Kaden’s younger sister. From what she remembered of her she was no match for the renowned playboy Sultan.

  Kaden’s mouth tightened. “It’s a factor, yes. Their marriage will be an important strategic alliance between both our countries.”

  Kaden sat back and cradled a bulbous glass of brandy. He looked at Julia from under hooded lids. She felt hunted.

  “So … your boss—Nigel. Are you seeing him?”

  Julia flushed, wondering what kind of woman Kaden had become used to socialising with, sleeping with. She swallowed. “No, I’m not.” Not sure why she felt compelled to elaborate, she said, “He’s asked me out, but I’ve said no.”

  “You’ve had no lovers since your husband?”

  Julia flushed even hotter and glared at Kaden. “That’s none of your business. Would you mind if I asked you if you’ve had any lovers since your divorce?”

  He was supremely relaxed, supremely confident. He smiled. “I have a healthy sex life. I enjoy women … and they enjoy what I can give them.”

  Julia snorted indelicately, her imagination shamefully providing her with an assortment of images of the sleek, soignée women she’d seen grace his arm over the years. “No doubt.” And then something dark was rising up within her, and she said ascerbically, “I presume these women are left in no doubt as to the parameters of their relationship with you, much as you outlined to me this morning?”

  Kaden’s face darkened ominously. “I took your advice a long time ago. Women know exactly where they stand with me. I don’t waste my breath on platitudes and empty promises.”

  For some perverse reason Julia felt inexplicably comforted. As if Kaden had just proved to her that no woman had managed to break through that wall of ice. And yet … how would she know? She was the last woman in the world he would confide in. And she was obviously the last woman in the world who could break through the icy reserve she’d seen that last evening in Burquat.

  She realised then just how provocative the conversation was becoming, and put down her napkin. “I think I’m ready to go now.”

  Kaden rose smoothly to his feet and indicated for Julia to precede him out of the booth. With his head inclined solicitously he was urbanity incarnate, but Julia didn’t trust it for a second. She knew the dark, seething passion that hummed between them was far from over.

  When they reached the lobby Julia turned towards the main door, her mind was whirring with ways to say goodbye to Kaden and insist on getting a taxi. At the same time her belly was clenching pathetically at the thought of never seeing him again. Kaden caught her hand and her mind blanked at the physical contact. She looked up at him, and that slow lick of desire coiled through her belly. She cursed it—and herself.

  “I’ve booked
a suite here for the night.”

  Julia straightened her spine and tried to block out the tantalising suggestion that they could be in bed within minutes. “If your aim is to make me feel like a high-class hooker then you’re succeeding admirably.”

  Kaden cursed himself. Never before had he lacked finesse with a woman. He wanted Julia so badly he ached, and he’d booked the room because he’d known he wouldn’t have the restraint to wait until he got back to his apartment or her house. But she was as stiff as a board and about as remote as the summit of Everest. He had a good idea that she had every intention of walking away from him. He didn’t like the dart of panic he felt at acknowledging that.

  Julia watched Kaden’s face. It was expressionless except for his jaw clenching and his eyes flashing. A dart of panic rose; to willingly spend another night with this man was emotional suicide.

  “Kaden, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I came here tonight to have dinner with you. I do not intend repeating what happened last night. There’s no point. We have nothing to say to each other.”

  In a move so fast her head spun, he was right in front of her. He said roughly, “We may have nothing to say to each other, but our bodies have plenty to say.”

  He put his hands on her arms and pulled her close.

  She sucked in a breath when she felt the burgeoning response of his body against her. Immediately there was an exultant rush of blood to her groin in answer. Any thoughts of emotional suicide were fading fast.

  And it was then that she noticed they were standing in the middle of the lobby and attracting attention. How could they not? Kaden was six feet four at least, and one of the most recognisable men on the planet. Even if he wasn’t, his sheer good looks would draw enough attention.

  He intuited the direction of her thoughts, and his eyes glinted down at her. “I have no problem making love to you here and now, Julia.”

  To illustrate his point he pulled her in even tighter and brought his mouth down so close that she could feel his breath feather along her lips. Instinctively her mouth was already opening, seeking his.

  He whispered, “We have unfinished business, Julia. Are you really ready to walk away from this? Because I’m not.”

  And with that he settled his mouth over hers, right in the middle of that exclusive lobby, in front of all those moneyed people. But for all Julia was aware they might have been in her house. What undid her completely was that his kiss was gentle and restrained, but she could feel the barely leashed passion behind it. If he’d been forceful it would have been easier to resist, but this kiss reminded her too much of the Kaden she’d once known …

  His hands moved up to cradle her face, holding her in place while his tongue delved deep and stroked along hers, making her gasp with need.

  Eventually he drew back and said, “The reason I booked the room was because I knew I wouldn’t be able to wait until I got you home. Not because I wanted you to feel like a high-class call girl. Now, we can continue this where we stand, and give the guests the show of their lives, or we can go upstairs.”

  Julia’s hands had crept up to cling onto Kaden’s arms. She felt the muscles bunch and move and looked up into those dark eyes. She could feel herself falling down and down. There was no space between them. No space to think. She didn’t have the strength to walk away. Not yet.

  Hating herself, she said shakily, “OK. Upstairs.”

  With grim determination stamped all over his darkly gorgeous features, Kaden held her close and walked her across the lobby to the lifts. Her face flamed when she became aware of people’s discreet scrutiny, and Julia realised that within the space of twenty-four hours her carefully ordered and structured life had come tumbling down around her ears—so much so that she didn’t even recognise herself any more.

  And the worst thing about this whole scenario: she was exhilarated in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  For the second morning in a row Julia woke up in an unfamiliar room and bed. But this time there was no pristine Kaden in a suit, watching her as she woke. The bed beside her was empty, sheets well tousled. She knew instantly that she was alone, and didn’t like the bereft feeling that took her by surprise. Their scent mingled with the air, along with the scent of sex. In a flash the previous night came back in glorious Technicolor.

  They’d said not a word once they’d got to the room. They’d been naked and in bed within seconds, mutually combusting.

  They’d made love for hours, insatiably. Hungering for one another only moments after each completion. Julia was exhausted, but she couldn’t deny the illicit feeling of peace within her. She sighed deeply. She knew Kaden was going to Al-Omar the next day for Samia’s wedding.

  Then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see a folded piece of stiff hotel paper. She opened it up and read the arrogantly slashing handwriting: I’ll pick you up at your place, 7.30. K

  Julia sighed again. One more night in this strange week when everything felt out of kilter and off balance and slightly dream-like. She’d love to be able to send a terse note back with a curt dismissal, but if last night had proved anything it was that the fire had well and truly been stoked and she was too fatally weak to resist. All of the very good reasons she had for saying no—her very self-preservation, for a start—were awfully elusive at the prospect of seeing Kaden for a last time.

  When the doorbell rang that evening Julia was flustered. She opened the door, and once again wasn’t prepared for the effect of the reality of Kaden on her doorstep.

  “Hi … Look, I’ve just got back from work.” She indicated her uniform of trousers, shirt and flat shoes. “I need to shower and change. Today was busy, and then there was a problem with the tube line, and—” She stopped abruptly. She was babbling. As if he cared about the vagaries of public transport.

  Kaden took a step inside her door before she knew what was happening, dwarfing her small hallway, and said easily, “We’re in no rush. You get ready; I’ll wait down here.”

  Julia gulped, and her hand went nervously to her throat again. But of course the necklace wasn’t there. Every morning she had to consciously remember not to put it on. Self-recrimination at her own weakness made her say curtly, “I won’t be long. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen if you want to help yourself.”

  And with that she fled upstairs and locked herself into her en suite bedroom. Lord, she was in trouble.

  Kaden prowled through the hallway. From what he could see it was a classic two-up-two-down house, with a bright airy kitchen extending at the back, which was obviously a modern addition. He hated this weakness he felt for the woman upstairs. Even now he wanted to follow her into the shower and embed himself in her tight heat.

  Last night had been very far removed from the nights he’d shared with other women. He was always quickly sated and eager to see them leave, or leave himself. But it had only been as dawn was breaking and his body was too weak to continue that he’d finally fallen asleep.

  When he’d woken a couple of hours later all he’d had to do was look at Julia’s sleeping body to want to wake her and start all over again. Right now he didn’t feel as if an entire month locked in a hotel room would be enough to rid him of this need.

  His mind shied away from that realisation, and from more introspection. It was perhaps inevitable that his first lover should make a lasting impression, leave a mark on his soul. The chemistry between them had been intense from the moment they’d met over that fossil at the city dig. Kaden’s mouth twisted. It had been as if he’d been infected with a fever, becoming so obsessed with Julia and having her that he hadn’t been able to see anything else.

  He hadn’t even noticed his own father’s growing frailty. Nor even listened to his father’s pleas until they’d been uttered with his last breath.

  With a curse he turned away from the view of the tiny but perfect garden. What was he doing here, in this small suburban house? His movements jerky, he found a
cup and poured himself a strong black coffee, as if that might untangle the knots in his head and belly.

  He wandered through to the bright and minimalist sitting-room. He wondered, with an acidic taste in his mouth, if this had been the marital home. He couldn’t see any wedding photos anywhere, but stopped dead when he saw the panoramic photo hanging above the fireplace, his insides freezing in shock.

  It was a familiar view—one of his favourites. A picture taken in the Burquati desert, with the stunning snow-capped Nazish mountain range in the distance. He had a vivid memory of the day Julia had taken this picture. His arms had been tight around her waist and she’d complained throatily, “I can’t keep the camera steady if you hang onto me like you’re drowning!”

  And he’d said into her ear, overcome with emotion, “I’m drowning, all right. In love with you.”

  The shutter had clicked at that moment, and then she’d turned in his arms and—

  “I’m sorry—I tried to be as quick as I could.”

  Kaden’s hand gripped the coffee mug so tightly he had to consciously relax for fear of breaking it into pieces. He schooled his features so they were a bland mask which reflected nothing of his inner reaction to the memory sparked by the picture.

  He turned around. Julia was wearing a dark grey silky dress that dipped down at the front to reveal her delicate collarbone and clung to the soft swells of her breasts, dropping in soft, unstructured folds to her knee. Her legs were bare and pale, and she wore high-heeled wedges. He dragged his eyes up to hers. She’d tied her hair back into a ponytail and it made her look ridiculously innocent and young.

  Julia’s body was reacting with irritating predictability to Kaden’s searing look. When she’d walked in she’d noted with dismay that he’d spotted the photograph. It was one of her favourite possessions. Her husband John had used to complain about it, having taken an instant dislike to it, and she’d hidden it away during their marriage. It was almost as if he’d intuited that she’d lost her heart in that very desert. At that very moment.

 

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