‘There was a confrontation and I attacked him. My mother tried to stop me, but I didn’t listen. I was too angry, too jealous. He had everything that I’d always wanted, and my mother wouldn’t leave him.’ Nazir’s mouth hardened. ‘But you don’t attack the heir without consequences and I was imprisoned, pending execution. My mother pleaded for my life with the Sultan and I don’t know what she said, but eventually she secured my release.’
Ivy stared at him, caught by the ice in his eyes in comparison to the determinedly neutral expression on his face.
‘What happened afterwards?’ she asked, part of her not wanting to know because, whatever it was, she knew it wouldn’t have been good.
‘My father and I were banished from the palace. The Sultan wanted to execute him, but he was too powerful. Instead, he lost his position as Commander and neither of us ever saw my mother again.’
A soundless breath of shock escaped her. ‘No.’
‘For a long time, neither my father nor I knew what had happened to her. She disappeared from public life and there were rumours the Sultan had had her killed because of her affair.’ A bleak light entered his eyes. ‘My father never forgave me for what happened. I’d always been his secret shame and then I was the cause of so much pain for the woman he loved... I should have been satisfied with what I had.’ Nazir paused, his gaze focusing on her very suddenly. ‘And that is quite enough about me.’
Before Ivy knew what was happening, he’d taken her under the waterfall, warm water falling down around them, soaking her hair, soaking her bare shoulders, blinding her.
She opened her mouth on a gasp, but his lips covered hers, taking the sound from her, the taste of him joining the mineral flavour of the water, surrounding her in warmth. Warmth from the gentle fall of water, warmth from his mouth on hers, his kiss deep and slow and sweet. Warmth from the hard, powerful body she was clinging to.
She had so many questions, her brain still trying to process everything he’d said, her heart aching for him and what he’d lost, but her thinking processes had slowed, the hunger of her body beginning to take over.
One of his hands slid up her spine to cup the back of her head, holding her in place as his tongue pushed deep into her mouth, exploring her in slow, leisurely strokes.
And it suddenly became very clear to her what he was looking for and what he wanted and what he was trying to create by keeping her here. Whether he knew it or not, he wanted a family. He wanted what he’d longed for all those years ago and what he’d lost in the end.
So why not give it to him? There wasn’t any reason not to. They were both looking for the same things, it seemed, and both of them had finally found them together, so why bother fighting? He’d told her that she was his, so why not accept it? Give into it? After all, no one else had ever claimed her. It might as well be him.
The decision settled down inside her and she gripped his shoulders hard, tightening her legs around him, because as much as he claimed her, she would also claim him. So she kissed him back, hungrier now, the water falling on her, the slick feel of his skin, the rapidly growing hardness of his shaft between her thighs providing her with the most delicious erotic contrasts.
But he would not be hurried and he ignored her growing need. He kept his kiss deep and lazy, his fingers on the back of her head angling her so he could explore her deeper. Hunger grew sharp teeth, but this time she didn’t feel as desperate.
The falling water soothed her, as did the warmth of the pool, the strength of him holding her up, the slow-burning, lazy kiss, and the decision she’d made to accept what he’d offered her. And gradually, the hunger became less frantic.
The tension eased from her and she relaxed into the slow eroticism of the kiss, returning it with the same tender sweetness.
There was too much water in her eyes so she kept them closed, focusing instead on his hot mouth and the leisurely way he kissed her. He was hard, and when he adjusted his grip, lifting her slightly, the head of his shaft pressing against her exquisitely sensitive flesh, she wriggled to take him. But he teased her for a few moments, making her shudder, before taking her hips in a firm grip and then easing her down onto him, again, so slowly it drew a groan from her.
‘Take me, little fury,’ he whispered against her mouth, his voice so deep, cutting through the sound of the water rushing over them. ‘Because all those people who didn’t want you were fools.Iwant you. So give me your passion. I want it all.’
She thought he’d forgotten about what she’d told him earlier. But it seemed he hadn’t, and it made something in her heart slip then catch like a puzzle piece sliding into place in a jigsaw.
She wanted to give him that passion because he was a hard man who’d held her with gentleness. A leader of armies who had a courtyard full of greenery and fountains in the middle of an unforgiving fortress in the desert. A man for whom pleasure seemed to be a foreign concept and yet who had a holiday villa with a hot pool, which he never visited because he didn’t like sitting around. A vicious warlord by his own admission, yet who’d seen to her comfort.
There were so many fascinating contrasts within him. It was as if there were things he wanted but wouldn’t let himself have, perhaps as a punishment or a lesson for what had happened to him all those years ago. The mother who’d been banished and the father whose life had been ruined by his actions. The family he’d destroyed.
He still wanted that family though, and that longing was so familiar to her. She knew it as she knew her own heart. So she didn’t think twice as she wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her legs around his waist, moving on him, giving him back all the passion contained inside her, until the ecstasy of it drowned both of them.
CHAPTER NINE
NAZIRHADN’TEXPECTEDto tell Ivy everything that had happened with his mother. He’d meant to answer her question about why he’d been sent to Cambridge then carry her under the waterfall and kiss that sweet mouth of hers.
But there had been something in the way she’d wrapped her arms around him, something in the feel of her silky bare skin against his, the slight crease between her brows and the steadfast look in her coppery eyes.
And he’d found himself saying much more than he’d intended. More than he’d ever told anyone. He hadn’t expected to let the longing he’d always felt come to the surface, nor the anger that came along with it. The anger and jealousy and sorrow he’d thought he’d got rid of years ago, and beneath that a shame he’d never accepted.
Which wasn’t a good thing. He couldn’t let those emotions cloud his thinking the way they had all those years ago, not with what was at stake. Ivy and his child had to be protected at all costs, and most especially from him.
His loss of control had destroyed the family he’d almost had and his mother...
Eventually he’d found out what had happened to her. After her affair had been discovered, the Sultan had banished her from the country for the rest of her life. She’d died in Switzerland, never to see either of her sons or the man she loved ever again.
That was his fault. If he hadn’t lost his temper, if he hadn’t attacked Fahad, then everything might have been different. But he had, and there was nothing he could do to change that or what had happened to his mother. The only thing he could do was stay in command of himself and ensure nothing like that ever happened again.