And, presumably, bed. But that was what a mistress should do—and who was she to complain if it meant that Hashim would make love to her?
‘I’ll need to go home and get showered first.’
He gave a slow smile of anticipation. ‘We’ll have a bath together,’ he said. And he would send out those disgusting clothes of hers to be laundered.
CHAPTER TEN
Six months later
‘YOU are late,’ Hashim said coldly, as Sienna walked into the hotel bedroom.
‘Only a little.’
‘I have been waiting,’ he said ominously, ‘for over an hour.’
‘Sorry, darling.’ Sienna slipped off the soft green cashmere coat she had allowed him to buy her for Christmas, its emerald faux fur collar gleaming in the pale winter sunshine. It was the only thing she had allowed him to buy—and then only because it was Christmas. Even though—as she had teasingly pointed out—he didn’t actually celebrate Christmas.
‘But you do!’ he had growled.
In a way, it frustrated him that she had steadfastly refused to be showered with the gifts which he thought were her due—but then, he didn’t have a monopoly on frustration. She had discovered early on that it went hand-in-hand with the pleasures of being a mistress.
It was such an unreal existence.
So many of their meetings were conducted in secret—behind the closed doors of hotel rooms—while they lost themselves in each other’s arms. Sometimes they would slip out to a discreet restaurant for a meal—though always shadowed by the ever-present bodyguards.
It was easier in Paris or some of the Spanish cities—which afforded more anonymity—but being abroad only increased Sienna’s sense of unreality. The certainty that this relationship could not last, and her fear of when it would end. Whether it would be less painful if it happened sooner rather than later.
It was as though what they had between them was so fragile that any kind of analysis might shatter it. And it wasn’t even something she could talk to her girlfriends about—and certainly not her mother. When you had an ordinary relationship—were having those ordinary fears about where it was headed—then friendly advice was yours for the taking.
But being a mistress was an indeterminate occupation, frowned on by society in general—both his and hers. For it flew in the face of the family values which most people believed in, deep down.
Only in her case she was not strictly a mistress. Hashim didn’t have a wife waiting at home. Instead he had a country—which was far more demanding.
She turned to watch him as he pressed a button on the wall and the heavy drapes slid silently to a close, blocking out the daylight and enclosing them in their own private world.
Hand provocatively placed on her hip, Sienna raised her eyebrows as he turned round. ‘You complain that I’ve kept you waiting, and yet you haven’t even kissed me hello yet!’
Exasperated and turned on, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. ‘Hello.’
‘And hello to you, too.’
He rubbed his forehead against hers. ‘How you love to make me angry, Sienna.’
‘No, I don’t,’ she said seriously. ‘It’s just that you work yourself up into a complete state when I don’t do exactly what you say.’
‘But you never do what I say.’
‘Ask me something—anything—and I will!’
He took her face between his hands and looked down at her. ‘Will you kiss me again, my noncompliant and informal little mistress?’
She lifted her lips to his, winding her arms around his neck, giving a little yelp of pleasure as their mouths collided in a kiss which this time was much more than a greeting. It was a hard, hungry and frustrated kiss. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a month, and he wasn’t supposed to be here for another fortnight.
But he had sandwiched in an extra trip to London on the way back from the States and called her at the last minute. Sienna had decided not to play games for the sake of it and had agreed to change her diary around. And bought a new set of underwear.
In between the frantic unzipping and unbuttoning of their clothes there were fractured bursts of conversation.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he groaned.