Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Zara
T his place is magical. I’m convinced of it.
How else to explain the fact that I’m kissing Myles in an ancient palace, that he has his arms wrapped around me as though he never wants to let me go?
Did I brush my hand against his on purpose? Or because I couldn’t stop myself? It doesn’t matter. All that matters is he took it. I know that we’re going back to London tomorrow, and I’ll resign and probably never see him again but for now, in this moment, he’s mine.
And I plan to make the most of it, no matter how it hurts me later.
The kiss is sweet at first, a press of lips, his heart beating against mine. Then it deepens, intensifying, and desire builds in me. Our tongues tangle, heat rising.
I become aware of children shouting, and more voices nearby.
Myles seems to come to the same awareness, lifting his head.
I realise where we are, coming back to myself.
A family with several children is nearby, and the tour group is still looking around.
None of them seem aware of Myles and me, of what’s happening between us.
To them I suppose it looked like a kiss. To me it shook my entire world.
We stare at each other, then Myles brushes my lips with his once more. “Will you have dinner with me tonight? In my suite?” he murmurs, his gaze intent on mine.
I know what this means. He does too, I can tell by the hardness pressing into my stomach.
I know. I was going to close myself off, avoid being hurt by him. Was going to be business Zara, right until the end. But it will hurt more if I don’t let this happen. If I’m never going to see him again, at least I’ll have this.
“Yes,” I say, kissing him softly. “I will.”
* * *
Back at the hotel I move as though in a dream. The whole day has felt like that, from the moment I saw Myles at breakfast, watching me read my book.
We’d wandered through the rest of the palace hand in hand, pausing to kiss in corners, our hands exploring, a tease of what was to come.
Then, as we made our slow way back to the hotel, he’d tried to buy me everything I’d stopped to look at, even when I protested.
I’d come away with a silver necklace, a delicate chain with tiny dangling stars that hung between my breasts.
I’d been unable to resist it, though I’d drawn the line at everything else.
Now, as I shower and dress, excitement flutters in the base of my stomach.
I’m going to wear the dress he gave me, and not much else.
Everything is still dreamlike, as though I’m moving through honey, as though something else is guiding me.
Business Zara is gone. I am just Zara, now.
And tonight, I belong to Myles, if he wants me.
I know. But the line in my mind is gone now.
Crossed, erased as though it never existed.
I want him too much not to at least see where this goes.
Shivers run through me as I make my way up shadowed stairs lit by silver lanterns.
I remember his hands on me, how they felt.
My nipples harden under my dress, pushing against the silk. I feel as though I’m flying.
I reach the gate leading to his suite and pause.
Across the courtyard the restaurant and bar are busy, people sitting at tables or lounging on sofas, drinks in hand.
I feel completely apart from them, as though this night is mine and his alone.
I can’t ever tell him how I feel, but at least I’ll have this.
I knock on the door.
Myles
Despite my linen shirt and the cool night air, I’m sweating.
Everything is perfect. I’ve arranged the dinner with strict instructions that, once it’s delivered and set up, the suite arranged to my specifications, I’m not to be disturbed. I hope I have reason to do this.
It could just be dinner, after all.
I can’t pressure Zara, despite how she’d responded to me in the medina, kissing me in the palace as though we were teenagers sneaking in corners. It was more than I could have hoped for.
But I still don’t know what will happen when she comes here tonight.
I hope she comes, in more ways than one.
I rub the back of my neck, glancing again at the terrace gate. Where is she? I know I’m about to cross a line, but I want her too much not to do this. I’m going to have to tell her, though, that she can’t work for me anymore. I hope she’s all right with it, once I explain the reasons why.
There’s a knock at the gate.
I want to run to it. But I walk instead and undo the latch. And as soon as I see her, I know. My heart opens, relief flowing through me.
She’s wearing the silk dress I gave her, tied at the waist. Her hair is loose in long shining waves, her feet bare. And, if I’m not mistaken, she’s not wearing much, if anything, under the dress.
I can feel myself getting hard already.
“Hi,” she says, sounding shy. But her gaze, when it meets mine, is open. No more secrets, no more hiding. It’s just the two of us now.
“Hello.” I step aside so she can come in, her perfume trailing after her like an intoxicant. I want to fuck her right now, want to slide the dress from her shoulders and do all the things I fantasise about doing to her. I don’t kiss her, because if I do, I won’t stop.
“Oh!” She turns to me, her eyes wide. “This is beautiful.”
Like I say, I’m all about the details. The terrace is full of lanterns, hanging from the overhead beams, grouped on tables and among the plants, all filled with lit candles.
It’s the only light up here, apart from the moon.
The long wooden table is set for two people at one end, with gleaming silverware, china and glass, a number of dishes set up on a nearby warming tray.
On one of the plates is a single red rose.
More rose petals are scattered on the tiled floor and along the table.
“You’re beautiful,” I say.
Her expression softens, her lips parting.
Screw this. I don’t want dinner. I just want her. I go to her, pulling her into my arms. She presses herself against me, her brown gaze wide and trusting.
“I have to rescind your job offer.” Damn. I hadn’t meant to say it, not yet, not like that. But when she’s looking at me that way, as though I’m her entire world, my heart takes over.
She pulls back slightly, her hands resting on my chest. “You’re firing me?” Her eyes are wide and bright with tears, her soft mouth trembling.
“Ending your contract early. With a payout, of course.” I feel like the biggest asshole in the world.
She says nothing. But she also doesn’t pull away.
“I want you.” The words tumble from me. “And I can’t be with you and be your boss.”
“You want to be with me?” The words are a breath, her hands softening against me. Her slender throat moves, but her eyes don’t leave mine. Pink tinges her cheeks. Oh God. She doesn’t feel the same way. Doubt floods my mind. What the hell am I doing?
But I trust my gut and it’s telling me that this is the right thing, the only thing I can do at this moment.
As if on cue music begins, winding and sinuous, echoing up from the courtyard below.
It’s the small Moroccan orchestra who play there sometimes in the evenings. Their timing couldn’t be more perfect.
I wrap my arms around Zara, my cheek resting on her smooth hair. Her arms come around my waist, her head on my shoulder. She hasn’t answered me yet, not with words, but the way she melts against me gives me hope.
After a moment, she lifts her head. “Is this real?” she whispers.
“More real than anything.” My lips touch hers and she kisses me back, opening to me.
And we dance.