‘Weren’t you, Jenna?’ he demanded again, but this time his voice was gentler. ‘A virgin?’
‘Y-yes,’ she stumbled.
‘You lied to me,’ he said, but it was less an accusation and more as though he was trying to work out some kind of insoluble calculation.
She bit down on her lip. ‘Yes, again.’
There was a heartbeat of a pause. ‘But I don’t understand.’ His voice sounded dazed. ‘I don’t understand why.’
It was the closest she had ever heard to Rashid admitting confusion. She opened her eyes and wished that she hadn’t, for he was lying on his side, leaning on his elbow with his chin resting on his hand. And, although his eyes burned into her with their jet-dark question, he seemed thoroughly unself-conscious in his nakedness.
His body was burnished gold by the sunlight which filtered in through the shutters, as if he had been moulded from some precious metal. It was a very, very beautiful body, thought Jenna.
But it had not brought her pleasure, she reminded herself achingly—and now it never would.
‘Why, Jenna?’ he persisted, and his eyes narrowed as he saw the sudden tremble of her lips. He who had never failed a woman had failed this one!
She shook her head. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not having this conversation now. Not here. Like this.’ Beneath the towel she felt more vulnerable still, worried that he might touch her again—and even more stupidly worried that he would not. How had this unthinkable situation come about? ‘I’d l-like to get dressed, please.’
He narrowed his eyes, and then nodded. ‘Go and get dressed, then,’ he said quietly. ‘But I’m not going anywhere.’
She edged him a pleading look as she moved off the bed with as much dignity as she could muster.
But he ignored her silent request. He obviously had no intention of moving. True to his word, he continued to lie there, as lazily indolent as a cat who had just sampled a particularly large saucer of cream. Couldn’t he just do the decent thing, and go—and leave her with this terrible sense of regret?
She grabbed her underwear and her silky Quador clothes and, feeling his dark eyes still on her body, moved towards the bathroom, where she defiantly turned the key in the door very loudly.
She showered for a long time, washing every last musky trace of his masculine scent from her body, and then she slipped on the robes, which were coloured palest blue, and went back into the room, expecting—no, hoping—that he would be gone.
But he had not gone. Of course he hadn’t.
Some time during her shower he had put his own robes back on, and now he was sprawled, silent and watchful, on one of the long, low couches which lay beneath the window.
His lashes concealed the expression in his shuttered eyes, and his face had never looked more impossibly remote as he followed her movements.
Rashid watched her. Her body was completely and decently covered now, but she still exuded an irresistible sensuality. A sensuality which had made him weak as he had never been weak before!
His mouth tightened. ‘I think you owe me some kind of explanation, Jenna.’
‘I owe you nothing!’ she retorted hotly. Not now. She had paid her dues in full.
A glimmer of humour—the very first she had seen since she had walked into his palace that day—briefly softened the hard, dark eyes. ‘You like to fight with me, don’t you?’ he observed softly.
She shook her head. ‘No one ever fights with you.’
‘You do,’ he contradicted. ‘Jenna.’ His deep voice lingered on the syllables and made it sound like an erotic entreaty. ‘Why did you tell me that you had had a lover when it is now self-evident that there has been no one?’
Except for you, she thought, with sad bitterness. And in the end she had blown it, so caught up with nerves as he had entered her that she had known no pleasure at all.
‘Do you really need to know?’ she asked wearily.
‘Yes.’
She guessed that there was no point in evading this particular issue. What Rashid wanted, Rashid generally got—and why shouldn’t he know the truth?
‘It was a last desperate attempt to get out of marrying you,’ she said.
He frowned as if had misheard her. ‘Desperate?’ he echoed incredulously. ‘You would go to such lengths not to marry me?’