Chapter Five
HEWASGLAD they understood one another?
Malik Al-Rashid might be a prince, but Lucy truly hoped that he wouldn’t think what he had said would be conveniently forgotten. How was it a crime to have shown some interest in his parents? How had that been crossing his precious boundaries?
He’d politely introduced her to his mother and she’d politely given him some feedback. It was the first time she could recall him ever really knocking her back and it hurt. She resolved not to say anything more about it because, on reflection, it wouldn’t get anyone anywhere, which didn’t mean that she didn’t spend the following day simmering.
Several times as she looked at him, reclining in the black leather swivel chair in the huge wing of the palace which had been adapted for use as offices, she had to bite down the temptation to have it out with him.
He was as cool as a cucumber. He’d said his piece and put it behind him, but he’d never reminded her of her status before, and she’d been an idiot to think that, because he never had, then it followed that he never would. It had been enough that she’d known which lines couldn’t be crossed at home but, over here, the lines were blurred, she’d crossed them and his harsh reminder had been a slap in the face. Yes, of course he was her boss, and well within his rights to reprimand her for going beyond the brief, but surely they were more than boss and secretary, with all the formality that that implied?
Were they perhaps friends? Or had she got that completely wrong?
Shorn of her customary self-confidence around him, she worked more or less in silence for the duration of the day. She noticed that he didn’t say a word about that, didn’t once crack any jokes about her being practically mute. He would have done that in London. He would have teased her, coaxed her into telling him what was wrong. He might not have seen that as the strands of a friendship between them, but she had, and as the day drew to a close she wondered whether she’d spent years being a fool.
Had that easy familiarity between them just been a manifestation of him humouring her? Had he put up with her idiosyncrasies because she was a talented worker, and putting up with idiosyncrasies had just been him taking the path of least resistance?
Lucy was mortified to think that she’d somehow drifted into the trap of thinking that she occupied a special place in his life. He had his glamorous, clever women, but she had the guy who laughed at stuff she said, who stopped being the forbidding leader of the pack who was so good at intimidating the opposition.
She’d fancied that she’d somehow accessed the man not many people saw. Had that illusion fed the low-level attraction she felt towards him? Because there was no denying that she was attracted to him.
Well, that thought didn’t exactly fill her with joy and rapture. Yet being near him was like being close to the creamiest chocolate: drool-worthy, but of course off-limits because it was bad for you.
He tempted her, an innocent temptation, and she could acknowledge that she enjoyed that temptation. It made the time she spent at work exciting and she liked that. In a way, she’d become almost addicted to it. Of course, she had lots of friends, and of course she’d dated guys on and off over the years, enjoying their company, but never enough for any of those relationships to develop into anything of significance. She was appalled to think that throughout all those pleasant enough but short-term relationships there had hovered a comparison between those men and her boss.
Ages ago, she had teased her best friend, Helen, that she had a crush on her boss. She knew now that she was guilty of the same weakness, although in Helen’s case that crush had turned to love and had ended in a very happy place.
Her crush, if it could even be called that—and the jury was out on that one—was now revealed as a silly bit of nonsense and the guy in question actually thought a lot less of her than she’d imagined.
‘You’re quiet,’ Malik said flatly, just as she’d slammed shut the lid of her laptop and was preparing to return to her quarters.
‘Am I?’ She tugged her hair over her shoulder and met his questioning dark eyes with a blank expression, and then forced herself to crack a polite smile. The offices where they worked were cold. Very efficient air-conditioning meant that it was vital that she wear a cardigan, and she now shrugged on the patchwork one she had thankfully brought with her.
‘Going to tell me, or are we going to have a round-the-houses guessing game?’
‘I have a headache,’ Lucy told him, reaching down for her laptop and shoving it into the bright-orange vinyl case she’d bought for it.
‘Why do you have a headache?’
‘I really don’t know, Malik. Once I complete my medical degree, maybe I’ll work that one out.’
Malik tilted his head to one side and looked at her without saying anything. He’d been sitting behind his desk and now he vaulted upright to perch on the edge of it, where he continued his silent appraisal until she began to feel hot under the collar.
‘What?’ she eventually muttered under her breath as her heart began to do an annoying drum beat inside her.
She was in a riot of colours—loose yellow trousers and a black-and-white striped tee-shirt, which couldn’t help but clash horribly with the patchwork cardigan she had made for herself during a short-lived knitting phase.
He, on the other hand, looked cool, elegant and irritatingly sexy in pale chinos and a white linen shirt which was cuffed to the elbows and hung loosely over the waistband of his trousers.
Why couldn’t she stop being aware of him? she wondered helplessly? She was fuming at him for his ill-conceived remark the evening before, and yet her disobedient eyes were still drawn to him, as though the pull of his beauty was too compelling.
She was restlessly aware of a powerful urge to paper over her hurt feelings so that things could return to normal between them. It wasn’t his fault that she’d seen what they had through different eyes. She’d had her horrendous experience, had had her heart broken and nursed her hurt in silence, but even after that her optimism about people, and love and life in general, had never dimmed.
She’d floated along imagining that, within the parameters of their working relationship, she and Malik had something just a little bit special and she felt that she’d been cruelly disabused of that illusion.
‘I’ll be heading over to see my father later,’ he eventually said. ‘I’ve repeatedly told him that he needs to be on bed rest, and definitely no stress whatsoever, but every day he gets a little stronger and a little more anxious about what’s happening with the businesses. I’ve consulted his specialist who said that, as long as I keep it light and brief, it might be better than to force him into fretful silence. And, like I’ve said, I need to talk work with him anyway.’
He paused. ‘My mother suggested that you come along but I told her that you had other plans. I got the impression that she took to you.’
‘Thank her for the invitation,’ Lucy said coolly. ‘And please make my excuses.’
Of course he wouldn’t want her getting too used to the notion that she might be part of his family. She was his secretary. She was the paid help.
‘Is that all?’ she asked politely and jumped when he slammed his fist on the desk and looked at her with simmering frustration.
‘What the hell is going on with you?’ he roared, leaping from where he’d been sitting to stride restlessly around the room, hand jerkily raking through his hair. He approached her in ever-diminishing circles until he was towering over her, scowling and as lacking in his usual rigid self-control as she had ever seen him.
‘Headache.’
‘Yes, and as soon as you get your medical degree you’ll diagnose what’s causing it and get back to me. Spit it out. You’ve been in a mood all day and it’s really getting on my nerves. You’re not a moody person so just tell me what’s going on.’
Lucy breathed in deeply. Their eyes tangled and for a second she felt as if she was drowning in the depths of his fathomless dark gaze. She knew that she had to get past this. She couldn’t be in a mood with him for the rest of their working lives. She would just have to swallow back any misplaced hurt and pick up where they had left off, but in her heart she knew that she would have to toughen up. She couldn’t get hurt every time Malik said something unconsciously thoughtless.
It was disconcerting seeing him in a different light but reacting to it? Allowing him really to get under her skin? That wasn’t going to do.
‘Honestly, Malik, I really do have a headache.’ Frankly, she was on the brink of getting one after this stressful conversation, so no lie there. ‘It must be the heat.’
‘What heat? This place is as cold as Siberia. We wouldn’t be able to work otherwise. So you can ditch the overheating excuse. Talk to me, Lucy. It’s not like you to bottle things up.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that it’s not like you to bottle things up.’
‘I’ll be fine after I’ve had a shower and relaxed.’
‘Is it the work?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Am I working you too hard? It’s pretty intense at the moment and especially when we’re working here—there isn’t the distraction of strolling out to see some shops and get away for an hour. It’s something that’s crossed my mind more than once, even though I made sure to point out the differences you would find living and working over here. So is it that? Are you beginning to feel constrained?’
‘No. I’m not. I knew what I was letting myself in for when I came here. I’m fine catching up on emails and phone calls to my family when I take a lunch break. I don’t need round-the-clock entertainment to survive.’ She smiled stiffly. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t be able to do that for ever but, just while we’re here, it’s not a problem.’
‘Come.’
He shifted his gaze and glanced across to the huge windows that overlooked the incongruously pristine green lawns, an oasis of emerald amid the tan of the sand dunes. There was a dark flush on his face when he returned his glance to her startled face.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said what I had to say yesterday...made things clear between us...’ He flushed darkly. ‘But my mother specifically asked for you to come. So, come.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘It’s clearly not. I don’t believe a word about a fictitious headache and, if it’s not the workload and it’s not boredom, then it’s what I said to you last night.’
‘I don’t want to talk about that. There’s no point. Of course we understand one another. Believe it or not, a little curiosity doesn’t add up to me trying to worm myself into your family unit.’
‘Why do you have to be so over-imaginative, Lucy? Did I mention anything about you trying to worm your way into my family?’
‘I don’t need reminding that I work for you. I know I work for you. I know you’re my boss and I’m just your secretary.’
‘So I’m guessing you were sulking about what I said.’
‘You hurt me, Malik!’
The silence stretched between them. She was bright red and already regretting the outburst. Chatting about diet fads, her family and her preoccupation with house renovation shows on the telly was quite different from...this. Feelings wasn’t a topic that had ever arisen between them. The conversation felt raw and dangerous, and her colour heightened.
‘I apologise.’
‘Do you? Are you really sorry that I was hurt by what you said? You don’t want me to meet your father because...because what? Because I might get it into my head that...?’
A quagmire of things that shouldn’t be said opened up at her feet and she gulped.
‘That what, Lucy?’
‘It doesn’t matter. I just... I was hurt because you... I suppose you put me in my place and...’ Her voice faltered.
‘I’ll finish what you started saying, shall I?’ Malik prompted quietly and Lucy stared at him, licked her lips, and tried and failed to find something to say in response.
‘I wouldn’t want you to get it into your head that, because you’ve met my family...’
‘I won’t.’
‘Sure about that?’
‘One hundred percent.’
Malik smiled. ‘Okay. Good. We’ll let that go. Actually, there’s another reason why it might not be such a good idea to tag along, at any rate not on a regular basis.’
‘Why is that?’
Danger averted.
What if he had come right out and warned her not to fall for him? Not to think that what they had was more than just a great working relationship? Her blood ran cold at the thought of him guessing just how attractive she found him. It ran even colder at the thought of him patiently telling her that meeting his parents wasn’t ‘meeting the parents’, with all the connotations the latter implied.
She would brush past this and find her sunny side if it killed her. She raised her eyebrows and then resumed getting ready to leave, pointlessly straightening one or two things on her desk whilst inching away from him.
‘My mother is in the process of arranging my suitable bride. Would you really be interested in joining in that particular conversation?’
‘Is she?’ Lucy momentarily parked her anger and her hurt, vaguely knowing that she would return to both in due course.
‘It’s an exciting time for her.’
‘Are you being sarcastic?’
‘There’s some sarcasm there.’
‘Is it an exciting time for you as well?’
‘It’s life. The inevitable arrived a little sooner than expected, but I can handle it.’ Malik grinned, eased himself away, stretched and then turned to look at her, hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. ‘As for exciting... Maybe not quite the adjective I would use on this occasion.’
‘I just don’t get it,’ Lucy confessed, anger and hurt very firmly shoved aside now. ‘Okay, maybe I do get the whole duty thing—sort of. Now that I’ve met your mother, I can see that life here for you is...a little different than it would be for a normal guy.’
‘That’s a lot of generalisations you’re throwing around. What’s abnormal about me?’
But Malik expelled a sigh of contented relief because this was more like it. This was more like the woman he knew—asking questions no one would dare ask and barging past barriers as though they didn’t exist. He hated the thought of hurting her, even though he knew that it had been a conversation that had had to be had. Yet those bruised cornflower-blue eyes had cut him to the quick.
Something was going on between them. It was a feeling that came to him as fleeting as quicksilver, leaving before it could take hold. Was that indistinct feeling the something that had driven him to be blatant in warning her against getting too wrapped up in a family dynamic that wasn’t her concern? Had he been reminding himself of something as much as he had been reminding her? At any rate, he was perfectly happy to let things get back to where they belonged now.
He strolled to one of the comfortable leather chairs, part of one of the informal sitting areas in the space. He pushed it back and stretched out his legs to the side, relaxing into the buttery leather, loosely linking his fingers on his stomach and looking at her with brooding interest.
Yes, much more like it.
‘Where to begin? Seriously, Malik, how can you be so casual about marriage?’
‘Because I’m not a romantic person who’s on the hunt for fireworks. My approach to life is on a more practical level. Truth is, a woman who understands what comes with being my wife and what doesn’t is what I need and what I always expected.’
‘Well, you’re right. I wouldn’t want to get involved in any conversations with your mother or your parents about stuff like that. None of my business and, in fairness, I’m not sure they would welcome my input. Although, maybe knowing that I’m your very efficient secretary, they might ask me to sift through some CVs...weed out the ones I don’t find suitable...’
‘And who would those poor unfortunates be?’
‘That’s very egotistic. Some might say that the ones I sifted out would be the lucky escapees.’
‘Let’s ditch this conversation. It’s all academic, at any rate. Tell me how you’re going to spend your evening. I know you say that you’re perfectly happy with arrangements here, but you could be here for another month, and I’m more than happy to put you in touch with some ex-pat organisations. Might make a change from the four walls of this place.’
‘Considerably more than four walls, Malik, and, like I’ve said, I’m enjoying the novelty of not doing anything at the moment. Life’s usually so hectic. It’s peaceful just catching up on reading and binge-watching series on my computer.’
Lucy realised that she didn’t want him feeling sorry for her. She didn’t want him thinking that he had to warn her over getting any ideas about her role in his life, and she didn’t want him trying to sort out stuff for her here while he busied himself finding a wife.
What on earth was wrong with her? Why was she suddenly so sensitive around him? What was it she wanted from him that she hadn’t before? She been bright and sparky as she’d teased him about his arranged marriage but underneath she’d been edgy.
The question lingered in her head, wispy, intangible and unsettling.
‘I honestly don’t need you to start feeling sorry for me, Malik.’ She laughed off the shortness of her remark but there was a breathlessness there that threatened to reveal that all was not as well as the picture she was desperate to paint.
The dark eyes resting on her were making her all hot and bothered and she wanted to fan herself again. Instead, she began backing towards the door.
She didn’t want to find herself floundering in another inexplicable mood, taking things he said to heart because she’d lost her ability to brush them aside with her usual good humour.
‘Have a nice evening!’ she chirruped, backing away and then, before he could say anything else, she fled.
Having opened the door to the business of a wife, Malik knew that he was on a path that would quickly gather momentum. Lucy had asked him whether he was excited—it was a good question. He’d been honest with her and, as he’d stared into her puzzled, curious blue eyes, it had fleetingly crossed his mind—what had he done? Was this really where he wanted to go with his life?
It had been a fleeting thought, almost instantly overruled by the common-sense approach he had adopted over the years. An in-depth conversation had yet to be had but both parents had been relieved that he had initiated the process without having to be pointed in the direction.
‘We are both, your mother and I, relieved that you have come to this decision, Malik.’ His father had greeted the news some days previously. ‘I could die, and an heir is needed to ensure continuity. Too much will rest on your shoulders and, should something happen to you, a lot will be lost. A grandson would hold everything in trust should you no longer be around.’
‘Or granddaughter,’ Malik had interjected, which had been met with a dubious nod—but a nod was a nod.
Now, here at the table with both his parents, he settled in for the detailed conversation he knew was necessary, even though part of his mind was preoccupied with Lucy and with her moodiness that had made him feel so restless and ill at ease.
An exquisite meal had been served and then cleared. Coffee was up. Both parents allowed a brief silence, and Malik smiled to himself, because he knew that they were preparing what they intended to say.
‘I am sorry your lovely secretary could not make it, Malik. Ali...your father...would have enjoyed meeting her.’
Since he hadn’t expected this, his eyebrows shot up. He thought of her hurt and killed the sudden appearance of a guilty conscience. He didn’t want to talk about Lucy. He didn’t want to think of those big, wounded blue eyes.
‘Another time,’ he said smoothly. ‘But, now that we have covered various family issues within the company, shall we discuss what I know must be on both your minds—my impending nuptials?’
‘We have some ideas.’
This was more like it. An arranged marriage was simply a business deal and he was excellent when it came to discussing business deals.
‘No formal matchmaking,’ his mother said, leaning to pour them all some more coffee from the ornate gold-and-sapphire china pot. His father met his eyes and for a second Malik was startled by a flash of amused camaraderie which was compounded when his mother smiled at him.
‘You are not of our generation, Malik, so we decided that bringing in a formal matchmaker would not be appropriate.’
‘I didn’t think they existed.’
‘You do not live here.’ His father actually stifled a grin. ‘Some of the ladies would find it quite tricky to find a suitable partner without input from Mrs Bilal. Nadia, would you agree? Not every eligible young woman is a beauty queen.’
Malik burst out laughing as his mother lowered her lashes and tried not to laugh as well.
‘Some names...’
‘I’ll leave it to you,’ Malik said.
‘But Malik, you cannot simply settle for who we find for you.’
‘I trust you.’
‘You will not be disappointed. A social gathering...something as befits your station...and, of course, should you not approve of any of the women, then we will not urge you to make a choice.’
Malik’s mind was drifting. He would leave it to his mother because she would do a good job. His future was being discussed but it felt unreal, far more unreal than the trajectory of his thoughts, which kept returning to Lucy. But that was to be expected. Marriage to a woman whose face he couldn’t conjure was going to feel like an out of body experience compared to the reality of the woman sharing his palace, with her outspoken opinions, sharp brain and, now, her somersaulting emotions.
So, a wife to be was a dimly shaped thought easily deferred for the moment. He knew the social pool from which she would be chosen. He didn’t know quite what sort of social gathering his mother had in mind, but it would be what it would be.
He returned to a darkened palace a little after eleven. Under normal circumstances, he might have been tempted to work, catch up on what was happening with his own personal business interests scattered across various countries, but his mind refused to settle sufficiently for him to concentrate.
Lying in the silence of his magnificent bedroom, it dawned on him that niggling at the back of his mind was his secretary.
He thought about Lucy and he thought about his parents, and that brief glimpse of two people relaxed with one another, and more human than he’d ever noticed previously.
Had Lucy brought out something in his mother, some lightness that hadn’t been visible before? Or was Lucy’s presence here, in his country, making him see his parents through different eyes?
He would eventually have killed wayward thoughts by flipping open his computer and forcing himself to concentrate but he didn’t have to do that. As distractions went, all wayward thoughts were dispelled the second the alarm signal flashed silently on his mobile.
Malik stilled.
He knew exactly where the intruder was. He had the option of immediately contacting the security team at the palace, who would respond within seconds, but he preferred the other option of confronting whoever had had the temerity to break in.
He slid quietly out of the bed, slung on a pair of drawstring joggers and stealthily made his way downstairs, bare-backed and bare-footed.
It was warm outside. Even in her loose tee-shirt and the cotton shorts she wore to bed, Lucy was still warm.
But it was beautiful. The sky was a black shroud covering everything, pierced with stars that shimmered like tiny jewels. No light pollution out here, and no noise pollution either. London could learn a lesson or two on that front, she thought.
Sitting on one of the rattan chairs, which she rarely used during the day because of the blistering heat, it was impossible not to think of paradise. The dunes were just about visible in the distance.
She hadn’t been able to sleep because her mind had been too busy dwelling on how annoyed she still was with Malik, and how hurt she’d been when he’d warned her off getting too cosy with his family. As if she had some kind of hidden agenda! She might have earlier parked those emotions but, once the lights were off, they returned with renewed force.
She’d tiptoed her way through the palace a little after one in morning. It was a massive, bewildering place but she had managed to carve out a few familiar routes for herself. The one she took led down to the kitchens, where she fetched herself some water before heading outside so that she could sit back and let her thoughts wander until they’d covered all the ground they could possibly cover.
The sound behind her was so imperceptible that she was unaware of anyone behind her until she felt a presence. Heart beating madly, Lucy simultaneously spun round and shot out of the chair.
‘Malik!’
They stared at one another while the silence gathered around them, dense and heavy.
Malik was lost for words.
He stared at her. He couldn’t stop staring. Her hair was all over the place, a riotous fall of caramel and blonde curls that pelted over her shoulders and down to her waist.
Even in the darkness, he could make out the quiver of her body, which only drew his attention to the swell of her lush breasts against the tee-shirt and the smooth length of shapely legs on show. His libido kicked into gear with painful force. He knew that, if he made the mistake of glancing down at himself, he would see the bulge of his erection distorting the light jersey of his joggers.
‘What the hell are you doing out here?’ His voice was uneven, sharp, a deflection from what was tearing through his body.
‘I didn’t realise I had to ask permission to come outside for ten minutes!’
‘Got any idea of the time?’
‘No! But I can check my phone and tell you!’
‘Lucy...it’s after one in the morning.’
‘I couldn’t sleep, Malik—and don’t even try to tell me that it’s dangerous for me to be out here. I haven’t suddenly decided to go walking at midnight in a park in London.’
They stepped towards one another at the same time.
‘How did you even know that I was out here?’
‘Intruder alarm on my phone.’ His erection was so painful he wanted to push it down or else do something else with it. His nostrils flared and he felt heat flare through his roused body. ‘I’m alerted if anyone tries to break in...or, in your case, leave. I...’ He shook his head, raked his fingers through his hair and shuffled. ‘If a door or window is tampered with...opened... Hence I came down to find out what was going on.’
‘Dressed like that?’ Lucy wished she hadn’t mentioned his state of undress because now she was riveted at the sight of his body, the hardness of his chest and the ripple of sinew and muscle in his arms. Her mouth went dry as she stared at the way the light joggers dipped low on his lean hips down to...down to...
Her heart stopped beating and her thoughts dissolved into frantic meltdown.
Was she mistaken? Surely Malik wasn’t...turned on?
An electric charge roared through her and her body reacted with speed, her breasts swelling and liquid pooling hotly between her legs.
Her eyes flew back to his face but her voice was croaky when she said, ‘Well, I’m safe and sound.’
‘Why couldn’t you sleep?’
‘You know why.’ She forced herself back in control, told herself that her eyes had been deceiving her. Obviously.
Breathe deep, count to ten and everything will be just fine.
‘What I said earlier about... Jesus, tell me that’s not still preying on your mind, Lucy.’
‘I can’t help it, Malik. It was so hurtful. How could you lecture me about not engaging with your family? About making sure I don’t go getting any wrong ideas just because you’ve had no choice but to introduce me to them...her...your mum...? At least it wasn’t a double whammy, with me meeting your dad as well and really upsetting the privacy apple cart!’
Lucy felt tears sting the back of her eyes. She wished she hadn’t leapt out of the chair because now her legs felt like jelly. She’d said too much, put too much emotion on display. There was a difference between being talkative, challenging and good-natured with Malik and laying into him for something that wasn’t his fault just because he’d upset her. But, with her thoughts all over the place, there was no room in her head for common sense.
‘I apologised, didn’t I? I’m sorry if I offended you.’
‘You should know me better. You should know that I’m not the sort of person who would read anything... You should know...should just know...’ She turned away but the tears were stinging the back of her eyes.
‘You’re right,’ Malik muttered gruffly. ‘I should. Lucy, it was just an instinctive reaction.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I...it’s just the way I am. With women...’ He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair, uncomfortable, edgy, yet urgent in his need to wipe her hurt away. ‘I’m always upfront with them...and yet many times they read meaning behind something when there’s none. It can lead to complications and I’ve never courted a complicated life.’
‘That’s different,’ Lucy muttered. ‘Those women—I’m not them.’
‘Yes, it is different, and I’m sorry. I... I’ve missed you,’ he said in a roughened undertone. ‘Missed your laughter and your chat.’ He moved towards her and brushed the tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb, then he left his hand there, cupping the side of her face.
Her skin was soft and smooth, and her rounded face was exquisitely feminine.
He traced her parted mouth with his finger and her eyes widened. Malik could feel the excited thrum of her body as she stepped towards him and, when he lowered his head to cover her mouth with his, she melted into the kiss, hands curving to the back of his head, tiptoeing to reach up to him.
Her breasts pushed against him and he stifled a groan of pure pleasure. He wanted this so badly, it was a physical ache. He’d never thought that desire could be so painful. He yearned to cup her sexy derriere in his hands; yearned to push beneath the baggy tee-shirt to feel the weight of her braless breasts; longed to strip her naked and take her right here where they stood.
He stepped back, but shakily. He stared down at her, breathing unevenly.
‘Lucy...’
She’d leapt back and was now staring back at him in utter horror.
‘No!’
‘This is my fault.’ He took the blame without reservation.
Lucy was in his country and it was up to him to protect her, not give in to some crazy urge to seduce her, even though he felt she had been more than up for the seduction. Looking at her, he could detect the flush of unrequited desire, desire that had temporarily got the better of them both.
‘It won’t happen again. You’re here, in a different country, and probably feeling a little vulnerable...’
In receipt of that lifebelt, Lucy’s mouth tightened and she folded her arms.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she refuted angrily. ‘Don’t you dare think that I’m such a silly, impressionable woman that a little bit of hot weather and a change of scenery is going to somehow make me forget how to behave!’ She bristled. ‘I wanted you to kiss me and I enjoyed kissing you back. It was a mistake, yes, but the mistake lies with both of us.’
Malik nodded. He should have been surprised but he wasn’t because this was Lucy, defiantly proud and honest to a fault.
They understood one another. A mistake had been made and recognised for what it was—a mistake never to be repeated.
He was here to sort out his family affairs and to find himself a suitable bride. Still, he hesitated.
‘So, no more mention of this...?’
Lucy nodded and looked away. Her whole body was still on fire.
‘Consider it forgotten.’