She pushed out of his room and sobbed properly, keeping her head down as she walked as fast as her sore body would allow.
Once in the privacy of her own suite, she removed the robe and pushed it into a waste paper basket. She would never wear it again. She could never look at it.
The same could not be said for herself. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, mocking the way she looked with animosity and disgust. Her body was not her own. It had been marked; changed. She ran her fingers over her bare womanhood, and higher, to the chain around her waist.
A sign of empowerment? What a joke.
She felt for the clasp but it wouldn’t open. Her fingers weren’t working properly. She swore angrily and pulled on the chain. It didn’t break.
She pulled harder.
And harder, and the pain biting into her flesh was excruciating but she didn’t stop pulling the chain until it had snapped in half. She added it to the waste paper basket and returned to the mirror. She had two matching, bloodied lines just above her hips.
Good.
Pain was good.
Pain was a distraction and a reminder – a contradiction in terms for a situation she had no hope of comprehending.
She pulled on a pair of underpants and a floating floor-length dress with long sleeves and a round collar.
Had she really thought he might not notice?
A sob tore through her again as the expression on his features slashed into her mind. He had been furious!
She lay down on her bed and stared out the window, watching the way the stars twinkled in the sky.
Sleep, however, was elusive.
As she tossed and turned, the tiny thought that had lodged in her mind at the moment of rejection began to discover its roots.
She would hate to leave Kalem, but it would surely only be her who suffered. Here in the palace he had everything he could ever want. He was only eleven months old. If she disappeared from his life, he would not look for her. He would simply accept that she was no longer there. Perhaps he would imagine her with his mummy and daddy, wherever he imagined they had gone.
A chill danced along her spine.
Somewhere before dawn, she stood and crept through the palace, back to Malakhi’s room.
She didn’t bother to knock. After all, she felt they had moved beyond such courtesy. Besides, if he was sleeping, it would be better to wake him gently rather than with a firm knock on the door.
Leilani pulled it inwards, a look of surprise on her features.
“Oh.” Evie’s eyes narrowed. Sickness churned in her gut. “I’m sorry,” she said on autopilot. “Is Mal- Malakhi here?”
Leilani’s smile was that of the cat who had got the cream. Evie couldn’t think about that. She couldn’t imagine him rolling straight from her to another woman, and yet obviously he had.
“He’s showering,” Leilani purred.
Evie shuddered. “Fine.” She bit down on her lip. “Would you pass on a message for me then?”
The beautiful woman shrugged, showing her unconcern. “What message?”
“Tell him I’d like to use his jet after all. I want to go home. As soon as it can be arranged.”
Leilani was confused, that much was obvious. But she smiled and nodded. “I’ll tell him.”
“Thanks.” Evie moved back to her room and began to pack with determination. She’d be damned if she was going to let Malakhi see how hurt she was.
When the jet was ready, she’d go, and only in the safety of Australia would she begin to lick her wounds. And never, ever, could she let herself think of Kalem again.
Grief was her shadow, but she cloaked herself in it willingly.
If this was to be her lot in life then she may as well get used to it.
Five
Her suitcase sat by the door, mocking her with every moment that passed. She held Kalem close to her chest and breathed in his sweetness. How she would miss him! And all the more for the certainty that she would fade from his memory. One day he would wake up and cease to look for her. To cease to think of her face and expect it over the edges of his cot.
His chubby little hand lifted and curled around her hair, pulling at its dark lengths. She tilted her head, giving him greater access, not bothering to disentangle his little fingers.
It had been a long time since she’d eaten. Her stomach made a sound of complaint and she contemplated calling for some food. But it might arrive when word of the jet did, and she didn’t want to do anything to delay her departure.
“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered to her nephew. Desperation and grief were heavy on her chest.
“So stay.” The dark voice from the door caught her completely by surprise. She startled visibly, her eyes flying to where Malakhi stood. A force of strength and power, framed by dark timber, his expression blank of any emotion.
Her reaction was visceral. Her stomach twisted sharply with remembered awareness and she held Kalem closer for the comfort he offered. He was waiting for a response but it took moments for his words to puncture the fog of her brain. So stay. She shook her head. “I can’t.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course you can.”
She didn’t say anything. What would have been the point? Arguing with him never resulted in a win. Besides, she didn’t want to be talked around to remaining in this beautiful hell. She wanted to go home. To go as far away from him as possible.
With a small sigh, he walked into the room and took Kalem from her arms. He held him well, though Evie wouldn’t have regarded him as a ‘natural’, exactly. He disappeared from the room and returned almost instantly, without their nephew.
“This conversation is better had away from small ears,” he said, his tone grim.
“He’s not even one,” she snapped. “He’s hardly going to take notes.”
Malakhi was undeterred. “He can sense tone, can’t he?”
“Whatever.” She stood and walked to the other side of the room, as far from him as possible. “There is no conversation to be had between us, anyway.”
“You will not be leaving.”
The fire of resentment glinted in her expression. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”
“Of course I can,” he said with a shake of his head. “But I don’t need to.”
She felt him behind her and shivered. His hands on her shoulders were gentle as he spun her to face him. “You don’t want to leave him.” He dropped his mouth so that it was only a breath from hers. “And it isn’t necessary. Our deal stands.”
“No,” she said sharply, shaking out of his arms. “I can’t do this. That. What we did.”
He flinched at her certainty. Remorse was a very real tide swelling inside of him. “I was not gentle as I should have been.” He pulled her to him again and this time he dropped his lips to the sensitive flesh beneath her ear. He kissed it, his mouth so sweetly insistent, spreading fireworks through her blood. “Had I known you were innocent I would have been so much more careful with you.”
Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands caressed her back, stroking her through the fabric of her shirt.
“You told me you’re not a gentle lover, remember?”
“I thought you had experience.” He shook his head. “I should have seen …”
He was stroking her softly, sending goose bumps across her spine. “I didn’t want you to see,” she said simply. But she broke the mesmerizing contact, even though it felt so utterly perfect a balm to her broken heart. “I should have told you.”
He forced himself to remain apart from her; not to rush her. “Why didn’t you?”
Her laugh was a soft sound of self-derision. “I thought you might not want me anymore. Just like you said.”
A line formed between his brows as a frown dragged his mouth downwards. “I was angry when I said that.”
“I know that. I got it.”
A charged silence throbbed between them. “Did I hurt you?”
She
closed her eyes as words swirled through her. What could she say to that? Physically, no. Not more than he could have helped, given their relative sizes and her inexperience. But emotionally? Her heart was bruised and battered.
He took her silence as confirmation and a deep shame engulfed him. “Come to me.”
She tilted her head, her breath snatched in her throat.
“Now.” It was a command but he held a hand out to her, encouraging her softly to join him.
She turned on the spot but didn’t move. “Why?”
Even in that situation he hated being questioned. With a small noise from deep in his throat he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her. “Because I want to show you what it should have been like. If I had known I was to be the first man to possess you.”
It was so like him to know just what to say to arrest her plans. She shook her head but her heart was screaming at her to listen to him. “Why?”
He didn’t answer. His hands were gently removing her clothes, unbuttoning the shirt and sliding it reverently from her flesh before turning his attention to the floor length skirt she wore. When only her underpants remained, he lifted her easily and carried her to the bed in the middle of the room.
Evie couldn’t have said how she felt. Part-desire, part-fear, part-sadness, part-joy, she was a jumble of emotions. But she knew she wanted him, and that need overrode every other feeling.
He crossed to the door and clicked the lock before removing his own clothes swiftly, draping them across the back of a chair. He was already aroused, and her cheeks flushed bright pink at the sight of him.
When he hovered over her, his fingers traced the pink lines on either side of her hips. “What is this?”
Her eyes held defiance. “I didn’t like your chain of empowerment.”
His eyes sparked with emotion as they locked to hers. “You should have asked me to remove it.”
“I managed.”
He shook his head and lowered his lips to the marks on one side, kissing them gently, before transferring his attention to the other. His hands caressed her body with care, stroking her and reassuring her, driving any thought or feeling but anticipation from her mind.
He brought his mouth to hers and now his kiss was gentle, as it had never been with them. He flicked her tongue lazily, teasing her and enticing her until she moaned against his lips. Desire was a fire in her veins.
“I know,” he whispered, cupping her breasts with his hands and feeling their weight appreciatively. She shifted beneath him, lifting her hips in silent, instinctive invitation.
Her hands ran down his body, finding his length and wrapping around him. “Jesus.” He was enormous.
He reached for a condom she hadn’t even realized he’d brought and unfurled it over his length before coming to hover at the entrance to her core. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
It was hardly a declaration of love but the words touched her.
“You won’t.” She wasn’t convinced of that but no way in hell was she going to go without him.
He was so careful as he entered her, so gentle and caring, that tears fell from her eyes. He saw them and stopped, pulling out of her without hesitation.
“No, no,” she shook her head, lifting her hands to his chest. “Please don’t stop. It’s amazing.”
His lips twitched into a smile as he returned, gently plundering her depths, moving into her as her body was able to accept his. He didn’t push. He was careful, and when he felt her adapt to his size he began to move, stoking the fire that he’d lit the night before.
Her cries were fevered. She was quivering in his arms, balanced on the precipice of extreme pleasure.
“It’s too much,” she cried out. “Too much good ... Feeling… I can’t …”
He laughed but his own expression showed the same flash of desire. He kissed her when he felt her orgasm crescendo. He kept his mouth to hers, reassuring her, softening her surrender, surrounding her in beautiful comfort when her world was spinning out of control.
The moment was a rare bubble of absolute perfection.
Her heart, so bruised and battered the night before, soared now, high into the heavens, shimmering with renewed life.
But he wasn’t finished. He began to move again, faster now, and the pleasure she had thought rendered mute by completion jumped through her. The second orgasm was fiercely intense. All the more so for he came with her, holding her tight as their bodies shuddered in mingled pleasure and relief.
Their breath was loud in the silence of her bedroom. Sweat beaded their brows, mingling on their bodies, combining as a sign of their joint passion.
How long did it take for reality to sink in?
That perfect moment, so blissful, was shredded by so many sharp reminders of all that had come before.
And at the forefront of recollection? Leilani. In his room. Only hours earlier.
Revulsion quickly replaced sensual satisfaction.
She pushed at his chest and wiggled away from him, breaking their seal devastatingly quickly. Malakhi watched her from hooded eyes, following her as she rolled away from him on the bed. She didn’t stand, but she lay on the farthest edge, her eyes staring up at the ceiling as her breathing slowed.
He reached out and traced a finger over her nipples with an insouciant sense of ownership.
She shrugged him away.
Malakhi was amused, despite the dawning of worry that he would never be able to atone for his sins of the night before. He’d stuffed up. He’d reacted in the worst possible way because he’d been completely blindsided by her virginity. He wasn’t used to being surprised. Nor was he used to being wrong. And he’d been both. But the way he’d spoken to her was difficult to explain.
“I can’t believe we did that. Again.”
He revealed little of his inner-torment. “Did you truly think once would be enough?”
“Crap. I don’t know what I thought.” She was an idiot! Why had she ever thought she could play with fire and not get burned.
His words were more heavily accented as he selected them with care. “You agreed to be my lover. Are you reneging on our arrangement?”
“Yes. No.” A harsh, angry laugh jangled from her lips. “I can’t do it. I can’t just be some woman who comes to your room when it occurs to you to think of me.”
His eyes narrowed at the admission she wasn’t making. “Leilani.”
“Yes, Leilani. And whomever else there is to warm your bed. I won’t be another harem girl.”
His smile was one of genuine amusement. “There is no such harem; I’ve told you this.”
“Whatever you want to call it. The women who ‘service’ you.”
He’d opened that can of worms himself. He’d wanted to hurt her and shock her. He’d suggested this arrangement in a way designed to make her believe the absolute worst of him; to believe him a total chauvinist.
That was his fault.
Surely he could wind back some of that damage though?
He caught her wrist and lifted it to his lips. “I have known Leilani for many years. She is the sister of Nilam, one of my most trusted friends and advisors. My … relationship … with her became sexual some time ago, but only when it suited us both.” He moved closer to her, and smiled when she angled her face away in determined anger.
“Such as last night?”
Respect for the woman he had known for years led him to suppress the details of their late night assignation. “Last night, I asked to speak to her. That’s all.”
Evie rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
“Let us be clear about something. I do not lie. I have no need. When I say I only talked with Leilani, I am being completely honest. I did not sleep with her after having the pleasure of your innocence.”
She pulled a face. “Don’t. You made it perfectly clear there was no pleasure in that for you.”
“It was an honour,” he spoke with gravelly depth to his tones. He cupped her cheek. “I was angry with
myself. Not you. It’s been so long since I’ve been truly caught unawares. I should have paid better attention. Looking back, your … innocence … was obvious. Yet that you were a virgin didn’t occur to me.” He’d been too damned focussed on his own wants and needs to give much of a care about hers.
She turned to face him slowly, twisting her whole body on its side to mirror his. “Why would it have? I was married, as you said.” She dropped her eyes to his naked chest.
“Yes.” A thousand questions probed his tongue but he held them in. He suspected she would not welcome the intrusion into her private life, despite their new level of intimacy. He stroked her hair gently, marveling at the shimmering darkness.
“It’s not like I haven’t done other stuff,” she said self-consciously. “I’m not a total prude. I’ve been with guys. Just not …”
He held a hand up imperiously. “I don’t want to think about you having ‘been’ with other men.” The intensity on his expression showed the truth of his words.
And a sinister thrill of triumph warmed her. That meant something, right?
Malakhi changed the subject before his imagination could conjure the imagery of Evie being pleasured in other ways by other men. “Could you really leave him?”
Her expression darkened as she thought of Kalem. Her stomach was in knots. Could she? Had she really thought it possible? “He won’t remember me in a months’ time.”
“Nor his parents,” Malakhi drawled slowly. “Which makes it all the more imperative that you remain.”
“Why?” Sadness at everything that Dave and Sabra would miss in his life formed a welling inside of her.
Fully comprehending that he was going for her jugular, he spoke gently. “Who else will speak to him of them?” He ran his finger over the tip of her nose, teasing her lips lightly until she shook her head away. He dropped his hand between them.
Her eyes were enormous as they met his with genuine confusion. “You will.”
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