an abruptness that jarred Lydia right to her soul, he suddenly released her and pushed himself sharply to his feet. ‘You can find a hotel room to stay in overnight. The airline will have provided accommodation for everyone. If you come with me…’
He had already turned on his heel and marched off before Lydia had the time to collect her thoughts and gather up her magazine and her hand luggage. She could only stare bemusedly after him as she struggled to her feet, the sharp sting of distress adding to her mental confusion.
What had she done or said to make him react like this? Why had his mood changed so abruptly? Only moments before she had been sure that he had been about to offer her somewhere to stay the night with him.
And that if he had, she had been about to accept it.
But she had to have been deluding herself. She didn’t even know if he lived in London, let alone close enough to get to tonight.
Face it, Lydia, she told herself in fierce reproof as she headed after Amir, you don’t know enough about him to agree to anything. Coffee was okay. Letting him kiss you, bad enough. And as for ‘in my dream, you stay here with me, and we explore what we’ve discovered’—you weren’t really going to go along with that—were you?
‘It’s all sorted.’
Amir was heading back to her, making his way through the buzzing crowd with elegant ease.
‘They’re ringing round all the airport hotels now. You just have to wait and they’ll let you know which one they’re putting you in.’
‘Great!’
She tried to make it enthusiastic and hoped it sounded better in his ears than it did in her own. She should be feeling relieved. Very possibly she had just had an extremely narrow escape.
But relieved didn’t describe her mood at all. Instead she felt as limp as a pricked balloon.
‘What about you?’
‘Oh, I’ll head back to my apartment. The snow may be bad but I should get there okay.’
One tanned hand lifted, revealing a slim, silver mobile phone.
‘I just called my driver. He’s bringing the car round right away.’
Was he really as keen to leave her as that? ‘He’s bringing the car round right away.’ So much for ‘you stay here with me’. He hadn’t even waited to see her into a taxi, heading for her hotel. And as he spoke he was moving, drifting over to the huge windows, obviously intent on looking out to see if his car had arrived yet.
‘So this is goodbye?’ The words sounded bleak, desperately final.
‘I guess it is.’
Another couple of minutes, Amir told himself. Just sixty—a hundred or so—seconds, and she would be gone. On her way to the hotel and out of his life. He could put her out of his mind, and maybe tomorrow when he woke up he’d be thankful that he hadn’t given into the carnal temptation that had distorted his thinking so badly.
Just another sixty seconds…but they seemed to be ticking away far too slowly. And instead of feeling thankful, the only thoughts in his head were of just how lovely she looked standing there, with the soft bronze hair tumbled around her shoulders, her blue eyes wide and clear. The cream-coloured wool of her sweater clung in all the right places, the tight denim of her jeans hugging the curving hips and neat bottom with sensual provocation.
Seeing how the fullness of her mouth had been kissed free of lipstick, he found it impossible not to recall that he had done that and he had enjoyed every second of the experience. He still had the taste of her on his lips and his tongue. If he was honest he wanted her mouth again, wanted the…
No! Furiously he drew himself up, ruthlessly reining in the hunger that threatened to escape even his determined control. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the sleek dark shape of the Jaguar on the road below, edging its way through the whirling snowflakes, towards the entrance. Nabil had wasted no time.
‘It’s been a pleasure meeting you.’
‘And you,’ Lydia managed, matching his stiff withdrawal tone for tone.
To her total consternation hot tears were burning in her eyes and she blinked them back desperately, refusing to let them fall. He had already left her, mentally at least. There was no point in hanging around, dragging this out painfully. Far better to get it over and done with. Short and sharp, like ripping a sticking plaster off a wound in the hope that that way it would hurt much less.
‘Goodbye, then.’
‘Goodbye, Lydia.’
Why was she still hanging about? Over on the other side of the room someone was making an announcement about the rooms that were being provided, reading out names from a long list. When the idea of listening and learning where she would be tonight slid into Amir’s mind he crushed it down immediately, refusing to let it take root.
Lydia Ashton was a complication he could do without. He didn’t have room for her—or for any other woman in his life right now. Dammit, he was as good as married, at least in his father’s eyes, if not in his own.
Unfortunately his body was refusing to obey his mind. Just being near to this woman was enough to make his heart beat in double-quick time, his blood throb in his veins. Rationally he might accept that she was trouble, but the more basic instinctive response that tightened every nerve, fanned the embers of hunger into a blazing, roaring flame, declared that it was a trouble he would welcome into his life. Every second that she hesitated was wearing down his resistance, reducing his will to fight.
‘See you…’
At last she was turning away. Just as he thought he was home and free, just as he foolishly let his guard down a second too early, she suddenly swung back. He saw what was coming and was powerless to prevent it.
Her lips were on his cheek, warm and soft and delicately caressing. The soft curves of her body were pressed against his, her breasts against the wall of his chest, his pelvis cradling the finer bones of hers. A delicate perfume of lily and rose seemed to envelop him in a cloud, and underneath it was the clean, subtle scent of her skin, sweet and potent in a way that made his head spin dangerously.
‘Lydia…’ he tried to protest, but his voice failed him.
And then as he turned his head her lips touched his and he knew that he was lost.
With a groan he gave up the fight that he had been losing anyway and hauled her up against him, crushing her hard, imprisoning her in the strength of his arms.
‘Don’t go, Lydia,’ he muttered, the words rough and thick and raw. ‘Don’t go to the hotel. Come back with me to my apartment. Stay with me tonight.’
She should never have kissed him.
Lydia recognised her mistake in the second that she made it, but she was powerless to stop herself, incapable of resisting the impulse. She had meant it to be just a quick peck on his cheek, the briefest touch, there and gone again in a moment, but it didn’t quite work out like that.
The second she felt the warmth of his skin, tasted it against her mouth, she knew she was lost. Heat
