watched her approach, her head up to meet his gaze, a gesture at odds with the defensive way she clutched that bag to her. Arik felt a surge of unexpected protectiveness.
But it was overborne by anger that she should unsettle him so. He was aroused to the edge of pain just watching her. And his indecisiveness as he’d debated ringing her hotel had been uncharacteristic. He was too needy.
Lust had never been like this. It shouldn’t be like this. It had always been a pleasure to be savoured. Now for the first time, desire was a blood-deep craving. As if more was at stake than the pleasure of a woman’s body. As if he felt far more than physical need.
Arik clenched his jaw at the absurd notion, angrier still at that flight of fancy. He urged his mount forward.
Rosalie wished she’d stayed away. What did it matter if her painting remained unfinished? Or if she never saw him again? She knew now that with effort she would paint. And as for her reaction to him…better to ignore that.
Yet like a moth to a candle she was drawn against her will along the beach. With every step she’d known this was dangerous, the sort of impetuous act she’d always avoided.
But then, a demon inner voice taunted, where did playing safe get you? She’d been perennially sensible, so cautious with men, and look where that had landed her!
She clasped her bag closer, wondering yet again how big a mistake she was making.
Then she saw him, a study in masculine grace and arrogance as he sat his magnificent Arab mount. Instantly she had her answer. Error or not, she couldn’t have stayed away. The rapid-fire tumult of her pulse, the constriction of her lungs, the swirling heat all told the same story. She had to be here. Owed it to herself to discover what it was about this man that spoke to her innermost being, to the self she’d kept hidden for years now. The self that, at nineteen-and-a-half, had been brutally silenced, locked away by the force of grief and hate and despair.
More than three years had passed and suddenly that other Rosalie Winters, the one who’d secretly yearned for fantasy and adventure, was back, slipping under her guard.
She gritted her teeth and resumed walking. Foolish she might be, but she’d never again be the unthinking innocent she’d been at nineteen. She’d learned her lesson well. If she took any chances they’d be on her terms.
Nevertheless, as Arik’s horse plunged close, its hooves lifting high to a resounding rhythm, she couldn’t repress a thrill of mixed trepidation and excitement.
‘I thought you weren’t coming.’ His deep voice held a note of accusation as it rumbled in her ear.
‘I almost didn’t,’ she replied, annoyed as he circled. Man and beast together were awesomely beautiful—as he knew. He probably stayed up there so she could admire him.
That was the sort of man he was, she reminded herself, ignoring yesterday’s revelations. She squashed the fact that he worked hard despite his wealth. Easier to deal with Arik Ben Hassan if she could peg him as a rich playboy.
Yet she followed his every move with hungry attention. He was so vibrantly male, so attractive. Her imagination hadn’t embroidered a single detail. He was devastating.
‘You would have reneged on our bargain?’ His expression was severe, as if no one ever had the temerity to inconvenience him.
Rosalie stepped away, preferring not to dwell on the fact that he could read her so easily. ‘It’s only a temporary arrangement. I wouldn’t have thought you’d mind.’
He swung the mare round to walk beside her. ‘I’d have minded very much,’ he murmured and, despite her best intentions, Rosalie found herself looking up into midnight-dark eyes. Tension pulsed between them, the sizzle of unspoken connection that had no parallel in her experience.
‘Then you should be pleased that I’m here after all.’
For two heartbeats he held her gaze, then the shadows fled. He smiled and something tumbled over in her chest at the zap of magnetism between them.
‘And so I am, Rosalie. Very pleased.’ His voice dropped to a deep sultry murmur that reverberated in her bloodstream, tingled through her body and awakened every nerve-ending.
Why, oh why, hadn’t she stayed away?
Because you’ve never felt so incredibly alive as you do here, with him.
‘You’re not having second thoughts, are you?’ He dismounted to stand beside her on the sand. With only a metre between them the space seemed too intimate.
‘Perhaps. Should I?’
He shook his head and reached out, his fingers closing around hers, hard, warm and strong. It felt so right.
‘No.’ He tugged gently, bringing her closer. She saw herself reflected in his eyes. ‘I will never hurt you. You have my word of honour.’ Her thudding heartbeat echoed the pulse throbbing at the base of his neck. ‘Trust me?’
She hesitated. She had nothing but his words and her instincts to guide her. Yet there was no doubt in her mind.
‘Yes. I trust you, Arik.’
‘Good.’ A spark of emotion flared in his eyes, his hand tightened around hers and a wave of excitement washed over her. His gaze snared hers and her breath crammed in her throat at the intensity of his expression. ‘You know what I want, Rosalie, but that must be your decision.’
She shook her head. ‘But I’ve told you that I won’t—’ Her words ended on a hiss of indrawn breath as he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
‘Perhaps you may change your mind.’ His mouth moving against her skin was subtly erotic. She stiffened her spine against the need to slump in a wanting heap at his feet.
Now was the time to turn away and make her excuses. She wasn’t sophisticated enough to play these provocative games of seduction. ‘I’m not sure…’
Her words petered out into a sigh as he turned her hand and planted a tender kiss on the centre of her palm. A kiss that sent shockwaves of heat spearing through her. Her knees trembled at the force of them.
‘Nothing is sure,’ Arik murmured, caressing her with his lips as he spoke. ‘Can we not simply enjoy each other’s company for a few days and see where it leads us?’
To perdition, probably. Rosalie sucked a huge breath into her starved lungs, but it wasn’t enough to restore her equilibrium. Not when his hot breath hazed her skin and his lips hovered a bare centimetre from her throbbing pulse.
She tugged her hand free and whipped it behind her back, terrified she might beg him to kiss her there again.
‘You’ll be disappointed.’ She might be desperate for his caresses, but she wasn’t completely foolhardy.
‘Then so be it.’ His smile gave nothing away.
The morning disappeared rapidly once Rosalie focused on her work and not the insidious twist of excitement low in her belly, testament to Arik’s lethal attraction. But now and then,
