“Not such a hardship,” she pointed out wryly. “At least, not until recently.”
His eyes sparked with hers and she felt his ego swell. It was too much. Cora took a step back, needing space just to be able to breathe.
“I like being with you too,” she said, wrapping her hands around her torso. It was time for brutal honesty. “But I don’t want to get hurt again and getting into some kind of international relationship of convenience with you would be a recipe for disaster, from my perspective. Too much could go wrong, and I just…I can’t risk it.” She straightened her spine, forcing herself to finish her confession. “I made myself a promise when the divorce came through, and I don’t intend to break it. I’m sorry.”
“I am the one who is sorry,azeezi,” he said with an intensity that stole her breath. “I am sorry any man made you feel like this. You are a deeply passionate woman and you should be enjoying that side of yourself, not hiding away living the life of a nun because you fell in love with some asshole.”
She didn’t bother correcting him about Alf. She hadn’t loved her husband, but at the time, she’d thought she had. Instead, she dropped her head forward, concealing her inner-most thoughts from his perceptive gaze.
“I am not your ex-husband,” he said after a pause that was heavy with thought. She could practically hear the cogs turning. “And I willneverallow you to be hurt.”
Her face lifted to his, her heart flying through her body at the words he spoke with such easy confidence. But just as quickly, it plummeted back to earth. “You can’t make that promise.”
“Yes, I can.”
Such confidence, she couldn’t help but laugh. “How?”
“Because you will be in charge,” he said simply. “You tell me what you want. When you want to see me. When you don’t.”
Scepticism was natural. “You don’t strike me as someone who’d let a woman—or anyone else, actually—call the shots.”
“I’m not.”
Her eyes widened.
“But I want you.”
She pulled her lips to the side, considering that. “Enough to subjugate yourself utterly to my wishes?”
He laughed. “I think my wishes would be being fulfilled too.”
She smiled, but a moment later, sobered. “I’m serious about this, Samir. I’m…My divorce almost destroyed me. I never want to feel like that again.”
He stiffened, eyes locked to hers. “I promise you,jamila, that for as long as we know each other, I will bring you only pleasure.”
It was so tempting, and more than that, it felt almost pre-ordained. The last two weeks had been a strange form of torture, missing Samir so much she could barely sleep, much less work or function as a normal human. Even her brothers had started to notice that was something was going on with her. Maybe having a fling with Samir wasn’t such a terrible idea? They both had their reasons for keeping it light and temporary, and most importantly, private, so when they did part ways, there wouldn’t be any of the harmful speculation she’d had to endure last time.
“It stays between us,” she said quietly, to finalise the last detail of their arrangement, to assure them both that they were committed to this being completely private.
His eyes glowed. “Always.”
With the feeling that she was jumping off a cliff with both feet, she moved towards him, her eyes tingling a little. “Okay. Let’s do this.” And because he simply understood what she needed, and how to give it to her, she lifted up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For coming back. For before. And just…for getting what’s important to me. Thank you.”
5
HE HADN’T INTENDED FOR it to still be going on two months later. Hell, he’d thought they’d have sex a few more times, that it would be fun as hell, but fast to burn out. After all, how could anything with this kind of intensity stay so—compelling? But that’s exactly how it was with Cora.
She had gained a gravitational pull all of her own. Where at one point, Samir had felt his family and his country were the anchors of his life, suddenly he was conscious of his mind being half in Athens, or Paris, or wherever Cora happened to be. He found himself staring into space smiling when he remembered their conversations, wanting to call her in the middle of the day to check in—something he stopped himself from doing for a couple of reasons. Mainly because his staff would notice but also because he was being careful. Guarded.
Just like she was.
Dissatisfaction pulled at his gut, a feeling he was becoming familiar with.
But the problem was, while Cora was charming and beautiful and funny and intelligent, with a heart that was bigger than a continent, she was also incredibly good at keeping him at an emotional distance. He was aware of her techniques now. Her conversation changed if things got too deep. She joked to lighten the mood. She always limited them to a maximum of two nights together per week, even when he’d suggested, without any pressure, that he could stay longer sometimes. She didn’t talk about her work, though he knew she worked long hours. She didn’t talk about her family, even when he knew so much about them already. And she particularly didn’t talk about her marriage, her divorce, and why it had messed her up so badly.