Lifting on tiptoe, she clasped his waist and brought her lips to his.
His nostrils flared, like a stallion sensing its mate. He said something under his breath in Narabi, the hoarse guttural murmur rasped across the swollen folds of her sex and then his tongue probed, licking across the seam of her mouth, demanding entry. Her breath gushed out as she opened to him.
It was all the permission he needed to take control of the kiss. His tongue thrust deep, exploiting her mouth in devastating, demanding strokes. She delved back, tasting him, tentative at first, but then finding a dangerous rhythm of thrust and counter-thrust. The burgeoning heat built into an inferno.
He ripped his lips away first, his breathing rasping in her ears, as his thumbs stroked her neck and he pressed his forehead to hers. Her back bumped against the carved wood of the chamber door.
‘This isn’t happening...’ He groaned.
She wanted to contradict him, wanted to demand more—but as she clutched his shirt, her sex clenching and releasing with the desire to feel that massive erection inside her, all the reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this came flooding back.
She jerked out of his embrace, the shame and stupidity of what she’d done dousing her heated body like a bucket of icy water.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t...’ She stumbled to a stop, the futile excuses choking her.
She’d always assumed she was nothing like her mother, that she would never be ruled by her desires, never do anything foolish or reckless or selfish, simply to satisfy a physical urge. But now she’d done all three of those things and there was no excuse.
‘I stepped over a line,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have...’
‘Shhh...’ That treacherous thumb touched her cheek again, cutting her garbled excuses off at the knees. ‘You didn’t step over that line alone.’
Stepping away from her, he scrubbed his hands over his face. ‘You should go.’
She nodded, understanding completely. She’d made a terrible mistake, and now she had to take responsibility for her actions...
‘The p-project...?’ she stuttered, distraught at the realisation she might have sacrificed her wonderful adventure for the fleeting pursuit of a hunger she didn’t even understand.
‘We can discuss it tomorrow,’ he said. The dismissal was clear and unequivocal. His tone strained.
A part of her knew she should be grateful.
He was allowing her to leave with her dignity intact. And when he tore up her contract tomorrow and sent her back to Cambridge, she would be able to kid herself at least some of her professional integrity was intact too. But as she fled back to the women’s quarters she didn’t feel grateful; all she felt was lost and confused, as the unrequited yearning continued to throb like a wound at her core.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘I UNDERSTAND YOU asked to see me?’ Cat said, all too aware of the hammer blows of her heartbeat as the door to the Sheikh’s private office closed behind her.
Zane’s gaze fixed on her, his devastatingly handsome face illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the window. His broad shoulders stretched the traditional tunic as he leaned back in his chair.
Potent, provocative and powerfully arousing, the sight of him reminded Cat far too forcefully of what they had shared only the day before.
Her breathing sounded loud in the strained silence. Too loud. Her thighs trembled. The proof that their one kiss still tormented her—as it had throughout the night—only made her more ashamed.
‘You wanted an interview with me,’ he said. ‘I’ve decided to grant it.’
‘You... What?’ It was the very last thing she had expected him to say. She had spent the night fearing all the things he would say to her today. All the things he could accuse her of after sacrificing her principles and her objectivity the day before.
It had always been so easy for her to maintain her professional detachment before. But right from the start this project had been different. She’d become emotionally engaged, and now she was physically engaged too.
By the time Ravi had arrived to escort her to see Zane, she had been convinced she was coming here to get her matching orders.
‘Y-you...’ She stuttered to a halt, her emotions in turmoil. Again. ‘You’re going to give me the interview? Now, after... After what happened yesterday?’
‘Yes.’
‘But... But why?’
‘Why not?’ he said.