They completed the elevator ride in silence, and Olivia wondered what had happened to all of her social graces. She’d had them at one point, she was certain. In another life she had been a queen, confident both in her position, and in how to deal with her marriage.
Because you wanted nothing from it. But you need to matter to him. And you want to understand him.
She blew out a harsh breath, singularly frustrated with herself. She didn’t want deep personal insight. Not now, possibly not ever. But then, reflecting on the past wasn’t really very helpful, either. Particularly, because when she thought of the past, she felt as though she was pondering a different woman. She barely recognized that woman. In many ways, she barely recognized the woman she’d been when she’d walked into the throne room to tell Tarek she thought they should marry.
Because her reasons had been different then. They had had nothing to do with Tarek and everything to do with herself. With her desperation to find a place in life. To keep herself surrounded by enough things, enough people to feel as if she wasn’t alone. To cover up the yawning pit of need that was in the center of her chest.
Suddenly, Tarek mattered. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about not being alone. Though she was tired of that, too. Because she realized that she’d been alone for a very long time. Even when surrounded by people. Even when sleeping next to the first man she had married.
She watched her current husband, the only one who mattered, walk out of the elevator and up to the only door in the narrow hallway. He used the key card in the lock, the light turning green instantly.
“You know how to use one of those?”
He raised a brow. “It’s fairly self-explanatory.”
“Well, I’m having a hard time figuring out what is self-explanatory for you and what isn’t. The female body, obviously, was fairly self-explanatory. Female feelings, on the other hand...”
He held up the key card, the strip facing her. “I dare say this is a much more simple device than your inner workings. Also, if I could swipe this across your forehead and gain access to your secrets, I would.”
“Are you saying women are complicated?”
“I am simply saying I do wonder sometimes if life is better lived alone. And if sex is perhaps not worth the trouble it causes.”
“One time and you’re an expert in the consequences of sex?”
“I am living them,” he said, his tone telegraphing his foul mood. Well, she was just as foul. Fouler even.
“If it was just sex it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Is it not just sex?”
She shook her head. “No. Don’t you know that?”
“How would I know? I don’t know what only sex is supposed to feel like.” He pushed the door open and revealed an opulent suite, beautifully appointed.
It was indeed the epitome of modern luxury. But as she had spent most of her life steeped in modern luxury, there was a limit to how impressed she could be. Particularly when she had other matters on her mind.
“Are you supposed to feel as though your internal organs were ripped out through your chest and displayed for all the world? Are you supposed to feel like you can’t breathe whenever you remember what it was to be skin to skin with another person? Are you supposed to ache down to your very bones? If so, then I suppose I have an all right understanding of what it means to engage in sex.”
“No,” she said, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. “Just sex makes you feel good. I don’t even know what this is.”
“You will see that I am delighted to be unique to you, my queen.” He sounded nothing close to delighted at all.
“Oh, you could never be anything but, my sheikh,” she said, taking a step closer to him. “I have never experienced anything remotely similar to you.”
“For a start,” he said, his tone brittle, “I do not know how to smile.”
She took another step toward him. “Not well.”
He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and held her fast, dipping his head suddenly and kissing her, hard, deep. The kiss bruised, wounded. And she didn’t mind. Because it reflected what was going on inside her. And then, just as abruptly as he descended, he pulled away. “I need a shower,” he said, turning and walking from the room.
He left her standing there, feeling dizzy. Angry. What was happening to her? Why was this man...this...virgin...causing her so much trouble? She had been married to a man whose skills as a lover were world renowned. Why was she so much more affected, why was she destroyed, wrecked, by a man who had never even kissed a woman before her? Her heart twisted tight. That was why. That was why she was so affected. She was unique to him. She made him feel. She reached him.