by Maggie Cox
She would need some time to work out how best to fight her corner, always keeping firmly in mind the needs of her son. They were paramount.
Through tight lips, she answered, ‘Yes, I have.’ Removing the suede cross-body bag she was wearing, she laid it down on the couch. ‘But I’m still not sure that marrying you is the right thing to do. Have you talked to Farrida yet about calling off your engagement?’
‘I have. The arrangement is no more, so there is no need for you to worry.’
‘And she accepted your change of mind? I imagine that was pretty hard for her to hear.’
‘In my country arranged marriages for dynastic purposes are quite usual. They are not complicated by feelings. Farrida accepted the change in my plans with the good grace of the high-born lady that she is.’
The look he gave Darcy was decidedly cool. It conveyed the fact that his mind was definitely made up so no further discussion about it was necessary.
‘I see.’
‘We are discussing plans for our marriage and our return to my country,’ he reminded her. ‘There is no question that it is right. My son has been too long without the support of his father and your becoming my wife will mean that you no longer have to live a hand-to-mouth existence, unable to provide all the things he needs, the things that are his right as my heir. I think it’s time we had that coffee...don’t you?’
‘I’d prefer tea, if it’s all the same to you.’
‘Of course—I should have known by now that you don’t conform to anything you don’t like, Darcy so I ordered some tea as well.’ Deftly arranging the cups and saucers on the table as though he wasn’t fazed by the domestic task, he teased her. ‘Shall I do the honours and pour?’
‘I won’t say no.’
His big hand fastened incongruously around the delicate porcelain handle of the teapot, and Zafir’s silken black eyes glinted with more than just a little provocation. ‘How interesting... Tell me, what do you say no to?’
Immediately growing warm, she unconsciously smoothed back a curling lock of flaxen hair that had drifted against her cheekbone. If the man had sought to unsettle her with his dangerously suggestive comment then he had succeeded.
‘A girl could die of thirst waiting for you to pour that tea, you know.’
Returning the pot to the table, he got slowly to his feet. His dark robes fell back into position with a graceful fluidity that put her in mind of a gently flowing river.
‘Are you really so thirsty that you couldn’t wait for a few more minutes for that thirst to be satisfied?’ he questioned.
Unable to find her voice right then, Darcy gulped. Her breasts were already hot and heavy with desire, and her tightened nipples were tingling fiercely inside a dress that increasingly made her feel as if she was in a steam room. And yet she was intimately aware that the temperature of her body wasn’t anything to do with what she was wearing but everything to do with the sinfully handsome man who stood in front of her.
She recalled that he’d once told her that his heritage was an ancient one, much revered by historical scholars. How could anyone doubt the provenance of such ancestry? One only had to glance at Zafir’s mesmerising visage to be transported into another world... The proud forehead, the carved cheekbones and flowing black hair...all easily brought to mind a culture that was laden with majesty and mystery.
Even so, the people of his tribe had once trekked through the desert on blisteringly hot days searching for watering holes, had spent long, cold nights under a star-filled sky in temperatures probably as bitter as those in the North Pole. Resilience and faith must have been bred into his ancestors’ bones for them to have survived such extremes of climate and still make a good life for themselves and their families.
As though intrigued by her silent musing, Zafir gave her a long, slow smile. It was then that Darcy saw his expression was indisputably hungry, and she sensed herself succumbing to the unspoken invitation in his eyes as though caught in a sensual undertow she didn’t have a prayer of resisting...
‘Rather than pour you a cup of tea, I have another suggestion.’
‘Oh?’
‘Would you not prefer me to make love to you?’
She gasped. ‘You shouldn’t say such things to me. You—you know you shouldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
He planted himself mere inches from where she sat, so close that his heat mingled irresistibly with the now familiar seductive scent of agar and drifted down to her.
‘Would you rather I pretend to be coy, like an inexperienced schoolboy, rather than be a man who intimately knows what he desires and is not afraid to declare it?’
‘Doesn’t the kind of desire you’re alluding to need to be reciprocated?’
‘Are you telling me you don’t want me, Darcy?’
She felt suddenly quite faint. The things that his deep bass voice alone could do, never mind his looks... Where on earth was she supposed to go with such a question?
‘All I’m saying is that I—I need to be sensible, and you’re making it impossible for me.’
‘Once...not so very long ago...you were my woman. Now we have a child together. That confirms you are still my woman.’
‘I am no such thing. And nor am I some chattel to do with exactly as you want just because you think it’s some inalienable right you have.’
‘Is that really how you view me? As someone who wouldn’t even consider another person’s rights if they happened to conflict with my own? That is a shame. But, that aside, if you’re saying that you no longer have any feelings for me other than hatred, then I have to remind you that I am still the father of your son and I fully intend to claim my paternal rights—with or without your approval, because my people need an heir.’
Although Darcy’s heart was racing, her voice was calm when she replied, ‘I don’t hate you. I never did—despite what happened. But my child’s well-being and future are not up for being bartered with.’
‘It is not my intention to barter.’
A maddening smile touched the corner of his lips, as if he already knew he held the trump card.
In response, a wave of exasperation bubbled up inside her and suddenly burst free. ‘Look...you had your chance with me once, Zafir, but you threw it away. Yes—threw it away as though it was nothing. My trust was destroyed when you did that. It was smashed into the dust. If you think it can be so easily reinstated by giving in to plain lust then I have to tell you in no uncertain terms that it can’t.’
The look she saw in his eyes just then mesmerised her. She suddenly knew that he wasn’t going to respond as she’d thought.
‘My desire for you is not born out of plain lust, Darcy. I still have feelings for you, despite any ill-advised actions I may have taken in the past. And now a child—our child—has been brought into the equation. That alone changes everything. Can we not make our peace...at least for his sake?’
An audible groan escaped her. She sensed the last vestiges of her resistance melt helplessly away, and knew she was fighting a losing battle to stay strong. ‘I would do anything for Sami.’
‘You may not know it yet, but so would I.’
Knowing he meant it, Darcy felt her aroused senses wanting to dance to a whole different tune from the one she’d intended. Unprotestingly, she succumbed to the compulsion.
As if already aware of her decision, Zafir carefully guided her up onto her feet. His big hands circled her waist, and she was glad it had remained so slender after her pregnancy.
‘What else do I have to do to make you know how much I want you?’ he asked huskily. ‘And not just purely to satisfy my craving for your body. There are many reasons why I desire you. Although it’s a long time since we were together like this, the memory has never left me. Did you think it would?’
Warring with the urge to lay her hand against his bronzed cheek, she knew her voice was a tremulous whisper as she said softly, ‘You don’t play fair, you know... But then...you never did.’
> ‘I think our refreshments can wait.’
Without warning, he lifted her high into his arms against a chest that anyone could see was magnificent. And she could personally attest to the fact that it had muscles like steel and skin as sensuously smooth as satin. The smile he gave her was unashamedly knowing and sexy, and it spoke of things that only lovers had shared.
In the past there had been many times when he’d buckled her knees with such a look. What woman could resist such hot temptation for long? No matter how stoic her vow, she wouldn’t be human if she refused him—and Darcy had never forgotten the time she’d spent in his arms. She hadn’t been able to resist him then and neither could she do so now.
‘We have a lot of time to make up for.’
Zafir headed purposefully towards the bedroom and forced the chic double doors open with the toe of his boot. As soon as they’d entered the room he carried her across to the canopied bed...
* * *
Removing his boots, and helping Darcy dispose of her leather flats, Zafir lay down with her on the bed. For long minutes they clung together on top of the counterpane, just staring at each other. The only sound they heard in those timeless few moments was the slow in and out of each other’s breath.
But then he lowered his head and started to kiss her.
It was akin to pouring petrol on a fire.
Those initial experimental kisses quickly turned into a conflagration of desire and passion as they eagerly started to rediscover each other. When they stopped for a while, to draw breath, Darcy threaded her fingers through his hair.
‘It still feels like silk. What made you decide to grow it?’
Smiling down into her eyes, he chuckled. ‘It is a family tradition, I guess. Do you like it?’
She dimpled. ‘I do. I like it very much.’
‘I will have to tie it back for a while.’
‘Why?’
He was already reaching into his tunic to produce the black velvet ribbon he carried should this need arise. Right now Zafir wanted nothing to impede his view of his lover.
‘I want to see you...in fact I want to see all of you.’
Deftly securing the ribbon around the ponytail he’d fashioned, he never once withdrew his gaze from Darcy.
Like a trained musician who never forgot how to play the notes his very soul was imbued with, he began carefully to peel the clothes from her slim yet curvaceous body. His sense of awed reverence as he did so took his breath away. She was just as beautiful and perfectly formed as he remembered—and her scent and her skin were casting a spell on him that made him fiercely glad to be alive.
During the years they’d been apart he’d often dreamed of her. And, vivid as those dreams had been, they had more often than not tortured him. What good were dreams when they only served to remind him of what he had lost? But even those enticing images of Darcy his mind had so helpfully conjured up couldn’t hope to come near to the reality of having her here with him in the flesh.
After giving in to his voracious need to divest her of her clothes, Zafir briefly stood up to draw the sumptuous voile hangings of the canopy around them. The delicate but effective shield immediately helped reduce the daylight that streamed in through the windows and he started to remove his robes.
Just before he leant towards her his hypnotised glance drank in the sight of her perfectly pale rounded breasts and he saw that her delicate pink nipples were already puckering...just as if they waited for his touch. Although he ached to take them into his mouth and suckle he wanted to touch his mouth to hers again first.
His glance holding hers, he savoured her pert, plump lips as though they were an opening to nothing less than the nectar of the gods. And they were, he acknowledged as his tongue swept the hot satin interior and feverishly duelled with hers. Each hungry kiss stoked a fire inside him that had never burned so hot with any other woman but her, and the near pain in his groin when he didn’t immediately take her was testimony to his voracity and need.
Suddenly aware that her hands were pushing against his chest she freed her lips from his.
‘Have you any idea what you’re doing to me?’
‘I hope I’m turning you on, angel.’
‘You are, Zafir. But there’s something I want to tell you—something I should have told you a long time ago.’
His body stilled. ‘What is it? What didn’t you tell me before, Darcy?’
* * *
She knew she was trembling. She was unable to help herself. Would he believe her? She had been so eager for him that night, and she had let her feelings dictate her actions, telling herself that everything would be all right.
‘The first time we made love at the hotel...on our special night out...do you remember?’
The corners of his lips lifted in a knowing smile. ‘Of course I remember. My heart gallops even now at the memory.’
Her throat tightened. ‘Well...you didn’t seem to mind my lack of experience, which I was sure I couldn’t help but show, and I thought perhaps it didn’t matter because you didn’t mention it... But I was a virgin, Zafir. You are the first and only lover I have ever had.’
His face visibly drained of colour. ‘If that is true... I should have noticed. But you only expressed pleasure, not pain. Did I hurt you that first time?’
She wrapped her hand around his. ‘There was initial soreness, but after that everything fell beautifully into place and I just thought it wonderful.’
‘But why didn’t you tell me? How can you not know that it is the greatest gift a woman can give to a man?’
‘I suppose I feared that it didn’t count for much these days if a woman wanted to save herself for...for someone she cared for.’ Darcy wouldn’t say loved. That was one step too far right now, and she’d already risked too much. ‘I thought that most men wanted somebody experienced.’
‘You’re crazy...where did you learn that?’
‘Most women I talked to seemed to think of being experienced as an asset. I never went along with that.’ She knew she blushed. ‘I guess I’ve always been a bit of a romantic.’
‘I’m glad that you are.’
He swept back her hair from her forehead and planted a kiss there. His velvet eyes seemed suddenly to darken with desire.
‘Do you still want me?’
‘I do... I want you now, Zafir.’
‘I want you, too.’
‘Then don’t make me wait any longer.’
* * *
He saw with satisfaction the indubitable hunger in her eyes.
‘I won’t leave you waiting for long, my angel,’ he promised, ‘but I need to use protection. I have it here, in the pocket of my robes.’
As he turned to collect the garment he’d left on the bed Darcy stayed his hand. Her smile was unsure and shy again, he saw.
‘I’m—I’m on the pill now, so it won’t be necessary.’
Zafir’s heart thumped hard, in spite of the fact she’d already told him she wasn’t seeing anyone else. Now he’d learned that she’d been a virgin when they’d first made love, he hated the thought that she might have had another man in her bed after their split...
‘I had to protect myself after—after what happened before,’ she explained.
‘But you wanted Sami? You wanted to have our baby?’
Widening the azure-blue eyes that contained the mesmerising hues of both sea and sky, she answered, ‘Always. He is everything to me...you have to know that.’
‘There is no doubt in my mind, habibi. I only have to look at the two of you together to be assured.’
Without comment, she wound her slender arms possessively around his neck and pulled him fervently down to her.
Zafir needed no further bidding. Pressing her deep into the bed, he felt his blood pumping hard in anticipation of making her his again. Sliding his hands beneath the tender silk of her bottom, he nonetheless took his time in guiding her slim legs round his middle, so as not to jolt her ankle.
But quick
ly the molten desire that was building inexorably inside him took command, and he didn’t hesitate to ease deep inside her. He thought he might have offered up a prayer of thanks at the moment of contact, but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that it was an altogether dizzying as well as supremely satisfying experience to be so intimately acquainted with her again.
No other woman could make him feel the way Darcy did. And knowing that she’d had his child after he’d so foolishly and painfully rejected her, discovering she’d been a virgin that first time, made the undoubted bond they’d once forged even more meaningful now...
His glance hungrily sought hers as he raised himself to look down at her. Guided by a force that was as ancient as time itself he started to move more rhythmically inside her, registering with pleasure her softly quivering lips as she moaned low. Claiming them in a hot, hard kiss, he lifted her arms high above her head as he plunged deeper. His action quickly elicited the reaction he’d hoped for. Raising herself up to meet him, her body suddenly contracted.
‘Oh, Zafir,’ she moaned ardently, her satin-soft thighs gripping him hard.
Glancing down at her, he saw she had tears in her eyes as she irresistibly came apart in his arms...
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZAFIR WAS INDEED a man of contradictions, Darcy thought as she lay wrapped in his arms, her hand idly resting against the curling dark hair on his impressive chest. Not only was he a hot and passionate lover, he was also a touchingly considerate one. Twice he had deliberately delayed the culmination of his own pleasure until she had reached hers, and now after the second time he lay down beside her, gave her a wry smile and teased her.
‘Either I’m seriously out of practice or your sexual drought has rendered you insatiable, my love. I am all but worn out.’
‘Are you saying that you can’t keep up with me?’ she responded, at the same time registering with delight that he’d called her his love.
‘I trust that is a joke?’
Darcy grinned. ‘Do you really think I’d have the nerve, as a subordinate, to call your sexual prowess into question, Your Highness? I wouldn’t dare! I’m sure people have been thrown into dismal dark dungeons for less.’