Stayed absolutely still and watched that dark head come closer. Watched the devastating mouth soften, and come down on her own lips with obvious intent.
And that was when she realised that the softness had been deceptive. That his kiss was not the light, enticing caress she had been anticipating. Instead it was firm and strong and forceful, a revelation of feeling and a statement of intent all in one. In the same moment that it seemed to cajole her soul out of her body, it also awoke every stinging sense with the burn of a promise that made her thoughts swim in a heady delirium of longing.
And all the time he hadn’t touched her except with his mouth. That long, strong body was still held well away from her, even the hand under her chin releasing her and falling back to his side, the other still resting on the strong, muscular thigh under the denim jeans.
He didn’t need to hold her, and he knew it. Lydia knew it too. Knew that it was as much the force of her own feelings as anything he did that kept her in her seat, unable to move. That the flickers of white hot flame along every nerve in her body seemed to melt her bones, leaving her unable to support herself if she so much as tried to stand up.
‘Help me, Lydia,’ Amir murmured against her lips. ‘Tell me what I can do to make you stay. To keep you by my side for just a little while longer.’
‘I…’
Could she be hearing right? Had this stunning man actually said that he wanted her to stay? And was it possible that she was actually considering saying yes? She hardly knew any more about him than his name. She had no idea if she could trust him in any way.
Bewildered, she could only shake her head in bemusement at her own reaction.
‘No?’
Amir had mistaken the reason for her reaction.
‘Then let me persuade you…’
This time his kiss was pure enticement. Gently he edged her lips open, let the tip of his tongue play along their sensitised surface, making her sigh aloud in response. And now at last he moved, powerful fingers tangling in the soft fall of her hair, closing over the fine bones of her skull, holding her still so that he could deepen and prolong the caress.
Lydia’s whole being was awash with a golden heat. Her heart was racing, pounding the blood through her veins and making her thoughts swim in sensuous reaction. She was lost, she knew, drowning in sensation, a wild need uncoiling deep inside her, centring hotly at the point between her thighs.
‘Amir…’
‘Ladies and gentlemen…’
A new sound intruded on the delirious yearning that hazed her mind. A man’s voice, crisp and matter-of-fact and hatefully jarring in the way it broke into her sense of isolation, jolting her back to reality with a suddenness that shattered her sensual mood.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. We regret to inform you…’
The rest of the words passed totally over Lydia’s head. Her brain seemed to have blown a fuse and she was incapable of taking anything in. Even the simplest words failed to make the slightest sense and when the announcement was over she could only stare blankly at Amir, her light brown brows drawing together in dazed confusion.
‘What was all that about? What did they mean all services are cancelled?’
‘I did warn you.’ Amir’s tone was dry. ‘The weather has been getting worse all day. The blizzard’s closed in and no planes can take off or land tonight. There’ll be no flights out of here at least until tomorrow morning—if then.’
‘No flights!’ Lydia echoed, horror etched into her face. ‘But why—how? Did you…?’
For a second she actually believed he might have been able to arrange it.
Amir’s laughter should have reassured her, but somehow it had exactly the opposite result.
‘My sweet Lydia, do you really think that I am capable of that? To organise such a thing I would have had to enter into a pact with the Almighty—or perhaps the Devil.’
Now that she could believe, Lydia admitted to herself. The wicked curl to his lips, the look of triumph in those eyes could only be described as fiendish. He might not have been able to arrange this situation, but it was quite clear that he fully intended to benefit from it. And his next words confirmed as much.
‘But, no matter who created this, they have my undying gratitude. Now you’ll have to stay.’
‘But I can’t stay here!’
Lydia’s brain was working overtime, struggling to assess the situation, sort it out in her thoughts and come up with a solution.
‘Where can I go? Where will I sleep?’
Oh, if only she hadn’t given up her hotel room this morning! But she had left Leicester yesterday full of hope and excitement, looking forward to a totally fresh start. She had only booked for an overnight stay because she had always thought that by now she would be in her seat on board the plane, heading away from England and towards the new life she had dreamed of.
‘What do I do now?’
‘Don’t panic,’ Amir soothed. ‘You can…’
Abruptly he caught himself up. What in hell’s name was he doing? Had he really been intending to offer her the chance to stay in the apartment? Was he out of his mind?
It seemed he was. That was the only conclusion he could draw from the way he had behaved ever since he had first set eyes on this Lydia Ashton when she had walked into the room barely a couple of hours ago. His brain had to have been completely scrambled for him to have behaved as he had!
‘…in my dream, you stay here with me, and we explore what we’ve discovered. See where this takes us.’
Had he really said that? Had he really been such a total, complete fool?
What was wrong with him?
Oh, he fancied this woman; there was no denying that. He most definitely had the hots for her—and how! But was he such a fool as to be led by his hormones into making what could possibly be the most dreadful mistake? Very likely the worst possible mistake of his life?
So this Lydia appealed to his most basic instincts. He had only to look at her to want her in his bed, that soft mouth opening under his, the fine curves of her body crushed close to his own frame, the bronze silk of her hair tangling around his fingers. Even now, just to think of it made him ache in such intensity that he wanted to groan out loud.
But how much was he prepared to pay for one night of passion—for the quick, urgent appeasement of his most masculine needs, the scratching of an itch, which was really all that this one-night stand would amount to?
Would this woman—any woman—be worth the sacrifice of all that he had worked towards for so long? Was any sexual gratification, however intense—and every instinct told him that with her it would be the most intense pleasure of his life—worth the loss of his lifetime’s ambition? Could he really just abandon the goal towards which he had worked for the last twenty years, ever since the day of his eleventh birthday, when his mother had told him the truth about his father and his heritage?
