Sheikh's Dark Seduction: Seduced by the Sultan. Olivia Gates

know you are—and I recognise that you have a right to be. I should have spoken to you about what was happening and I think we both know why I didn’t. But we’ve discussed that and we can’t go back and change it.’ His voice lowered. ‘And I’m wondering if we’re going to waste our last weekend together fighting?’

      At this, her eyelashes fluttered open, their feathered darkness revealing a vivid emerald gaze which was tinged with reproach.

      ‘What else did you have in mind instead of fighting? I’ve just told you that I’m not in the mood for sex and since that’s pretty much your only method of communication, then I imagine you must be stumped about what to do next.’

      He leaned over her, inhaling the scent of her clean skin. He felt the unsteady skip of his heart. ‘How about a simple kiss goodnight?’

      Catrin stared up into the hawk-like face which was now inches away from hers. She felt...disorientated. As if night had suddenly become day. As if she had woken from a dream into a new world she barely recognised. All she knew was that the balance of power between them had shifted and she was on unfamiliar territory. Suddenly, Murat was on the back foot. He wasn’t demanding from her, or just reaching out and taking. For once he seemed to be seeking her permission—even her approval. And he was about to discover that she wasn’t letting him off that lightly.

      She gave him a candid look. ‘It won’t just be a goodnight kiss though, will it? You won’t be satisfied with that.’

      ‘I may not be satisfied with it,’ he said, ‘but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it.’

      Something in his response made her bite back a reluctant smile and, chastely, she turned her cheek towards him. ‘Oh, very well. One kiss, that’s all.’

      But gently, he captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and slowly turned her head around to face him. She saw the flicker of something she didn’t recognise in his eyes before he lowered his head towards hers.

      It was a butterfly kiss. The faintest brush of his mouth against hers. Such a grazing touch that it was barely there—but it was enough to set her senses on fire. She could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. She could feel the lick of his saliva, as the tip of his tongue flicked tantalisingly at the entrance to her mouth.

      And instantly, she wanted him to insert his tongue fully, to mimic the action of a far greater intimacy which her body was already beginning to crave. Her breasts grew heavy and the honeyed ache deep in her belly made her want to wriggle her body against him.

      The hands which had been pillowed behind her head now moved automatically to rest on the bunched muscles of his powerful shoulders. Her fingertips began to dig gentle grooves into the silken flesh as he brought her body close to his.

      She could feel his arousal pressing hard against her belly and her blood thickened. She wanted to part her thighs for him. She wanted him to touch her where she was aching to be touched, but even though the effort nearly killed her—she forced herself to pull away.

      The way he was looking at her was making her feel vulnerable and she felt a flush of colour creeping into her cheeks. Because she hadn’t seen that expression of indulgence on his face for a long time. Not since... She swallowed.

      Not since the first time she’d met him.

      Her heart gave a sudden hard thump. What had happened to that woman who had crisply chided him for his lack of manners? Who had treated him like an equal, even though he’d been a customer and she’d been serving behind the bar. She hadn’t known that he was a sultan back then, and she hadn’t cared.

      She had allowed herself to become intimidated by his power and position, that was what had happened. She had given Murat complete control over her. She had become weak, over-accommodating and completely compliant. Was it any wonder that he’d started to treat her with such a flagrant lack of respect?

      With an effort, she pulled away from him, sliding across the cool sheet to the other side of the bed and putting a wide expanse between them. ‘A kiss, I said.’

      She heard the disbelief in his voice, which he failed to disguise. ‘And that’s all?’

      A wave of power washed over her—so potent, that it was almost worth the aching sense of frustration which was gnawing away at her. ‘That’s all.’ She yawned and then turned her back on him. ‘Goodnight, Murat.’

      For a moment there was silence until, with what sounded like a small growl, he snapped off the light so that the room was plunged into darkness.

      She might have been frustrated, but Catrin felt curiously liberated as she lay there, listening to Murat moving restlessly beside her. And maybe all the see-sawing emotional energy had exhausted her, because her eyelids grew heavy and her body began to relax against the mattress.

      When her eyelashes fluttered open, it was to discover that it was morning and that Murat was already awake. He lay propped up on one elbow watching her—his powerful body striped with gold by the shafts of sunlight filtering in through the blinds. Usually, she would have lifted a lazy finger to his lips, or touched his hard, bare torso with a hand which had already begun to tremble with lust. Or leaned forward to kiss him.

      But as she had told him last night, this was not usual.

      Beneath the duvet, she stretched, aware of the hungry gaze which swept over her, glad he couldn’t see the way that her breasts prickled instantly in response.

      ‘Sleep well?’ he questioned drily.

      ‘Like a baby. Did you?’

      ‘No.’ He gave a hard smile. ‘Did you really expect me to, when I had you beside me like some hormonally charged distraction? Allowed to look but not to touch—something I found especially difficult in view of the fact that your goodnight kiss nearly blew me away.’

      Remembering the near-innocence of that kiss, Catrin levered herself up the bed a little and looked into the dark gleam of his eyes. ‘Then I must thank you for not touching.’

      ‘You’re welcome.’

      But his curt reply was replaced by a look which came as close to confusion as any she’d ever seen on his face before.

      ‘Do you know,’ he mused, ‘that’s actually the first time I’ve ever kissed a woman without having sex with her afterwards.’

      ‘And how did it feel?’

      ‘How do you think it felt? How many words in the dictionary are there to describe frustration?’ He lay back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the restless night he’d endured. Yet his restraint had been commendable, hadn’t it? At one point she had snuggled up to him, still fast asleep. He’d felt the warmth of her soft flesh as her body had unconsciously invited him to hold her closer, as it had done a hundred times before. And he had found himself unbearably tempted to indulge in that half-asleep sex which always seemed so lazy and decadent.

      But he had resisted. As surely as the falcon flew across the desert sands, he had wriggled away from her and spent the next few minutes in a torture of exquisite agony. He had overridden his own desires and told himself that he had no choice. He didn’t want Cat waking up to find him making love to her and then accusing him of taking advantage of her. Yet the experience had left him shaken and slightly bewildered, because it wasn’t like him to tiptoe around a woman’s feelings.

      Her soft voice broke into his thoughts.

      ‘What about some coffee?’

      Relieved that some kind of normality was returning to a life which seemed to have been turned upside down, he nodded and smiled. ‘I’d love some.’

      But she was shaking her dark head and she seemed to be having difficulty controlling her laughter. ‘That isn’t what I meant. I’m not offering. My role as your quasi servant, as the woman who runs around making your life comfortable, is over. I’m preparing us both for the brave new world which lies ahead. So why don’t you make the coffee for once?’