“That’s nice,” Melinda murmured sincerely. “I would always have liked to have a sister or a brother. Hearing you speak about Zamir and Olivia makes me a little jealous.”
“It wasn’t always so harmonious, believe me.”
“No, but it is now.” A line formed between her brows. “I feel sorry for Jordan, that he’s not going to get that.”
A lightning bolt flashed inside of Ra’if. He was all ears, suddenly. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, just, you know, that he’s an only child.”
“You think you won’t have more children?”
She reached over and took the die, smiling when she rolled two fours. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m young enough, I guess …”
“You are twenty three years old. You could wait a decade and still be in the prime of childbearing. No?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve spent so long focussing on Jordie, I just can’t really see it happening. But who knows?”
The conversation left him with an odd ache low in his abdomen. It didn’t lighten with the passage of time. Every roll of the die was bringing them closer to midnight, and he knew from experience that she would need to get home to Tara soon enough.
“I surrender,” she said after he’d put another hotel on Park Lane, lifting her hands in the air. “You win. You are the undisputed champion.”
He reclined, watching her. She was so beautiful. But it wasn’t just a superficial beauty. She was elegant and graceful, intelligent and gentle. He could watch her for hours.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said quietly, crawling across the rug to his side. “I hope you like it.”
“I suspect I’m going to.”
She pushed up, straddling him where he sat, bringing her womanhood into aching proximity with his cock. He longed to possess her but it was so late. “What is it?” He murmured, his fingers moving of their own accord to tangle in her hair and bring her head closer to his.
“Tara’s having Jordan sleepover tonight.”
Everything inside of Ra’if shifted a little. “Meaning?”
“Well,” she walked her fingers slowly up his shirt, stopping at the top button. “I thought I could stay over. If that’s okay with you.”
His smile was broad, his eyes leaving her in little doubt of just how okay with him that plan was. “It will be the first night we’ve spent together,” he said as his fingers dropped to her hips.
“I’m aware of that.” She kissed his nose, then rubbed her own nose against his, breathing in his potent masculinity. “I’m looking forward to actually sleeping beside you.”
“Do you think we’ll get much of that done?”
Only, they did. Between making love and holding one another close, they slept, spooned together, their bodies breathing almost in unison. When Melinda woke, sometime after seven, she stretched in bed before her fingers connected with the hard wall of his chest and she remembered where she was. And who she was with.
She rolled in bed, propping onto one elbow so that she could see him better. He slept with his mouth open and one arm thrown casually above his head. His lashes were thick and long; they fanned over his cheeks. His naked torso, exposed by the dropped sheet, moved high and low with each breath. She watched the movement, a huge smile spreading over her face.
I’m falling in love with you.
He’d said the words to her, and she felt them now.
How could she not love him?
He was her knight in shining armour, who’d turned out to be a Prince. He was a fantasy come to life, and he was making her fantasies come true.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed and grabbed her phone, padding into the lounge room. She wrapped one of the throws around her body and settled on a kitchen bench. She called Tara to see how Jordan had gone over night and was only mildly offended to hear that he’d been a perfect angel and hadn’t asked for mummy once (traitor!).
She placed the phone down and moved quietly into the kitchen. It was well-stocked, and with a surprisingly healthy array of foods. In fact, it gave the impression of Ra’if having been a health junkie. She pulled out boxes of raw muesli, oats, spelt bread, fresh fruit and organic yoghurt and frowned. Well, so much for making a pancake breakfast.
“Can I help you, madam?” Melinda turned around and, at the sight of a stranger in the kitchen, screamed for her life. Her heart was hammering and her pulse was firing in all directions. Her temperature had spiked; she felt like her knees might buckle. She looked around for a knife but the best she could find was a large pepper grinder. She armed herself with it, managing to keep hold of the blanket with effort.