Claiming His Desert Princess by Marguerite Kaye

Author:Marguerite Kaye
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Christopher pulled his tunic over his head, revealing a deeply tanned, lean and very muscled torso, his ribcage expanding as he raised his arms, the muscles of his stomach rippling. There was a smattering of dark-gold hair across his chest, which arrowed fascinatingly down to the belt of his trousers. His nipples were flat, dark discs, completely unlike her own. A scar, a pale, jagged line on his left side marred the otherwise sheer physical perfection of his body. ‘How did you come by that?’ Tahira asked.

‘The result of a slight altercation with a pasha’s bodyguard.’

Any other time, she would have asked him to elucidate, but right now, she was frozen, mesmerised by his body, so completely different from the illustrations in the explicit little textbook, so completely different from her own too. She wanted to touch him, but there was a world of difference between theory and practice, a world of difference between her fevered imaginings and the reality of this flesh-and-blood man.

‘Tahira, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You can change your mind at any point.’

‘I haven’t changed my mind.’ Embarrassment made her sound as if she had. If Christopher thought for a moment that she was unwilling, that she needed persuading—she knew enough of his demons to be certain it would put an end to the prospect of having even a swim together. I would never, ever take such vile advantage, he had said to her. That discussion had brought their perfect night to an abrupt end. This perfect night had barely begun. She would not make the same mistake twice.

Tahira took a deep breath and unfastened the buttons which held her tunic in place. Blushing, but keeping her gaze fixed on him, she let the garment slither to the sand. There was no mistaking the flare of desire in the way his eyes widened, in the sharp intake of his breath as he looked at her. Her breasts would be clearly outlined under the flimsy chemise, she knew. As his gaze flickered down, she could feel her nipples hardening. He liked what he saw. She liked what it did to him.

Gaining confidence, she kicked off her boots. Her toes curled into the cool, damp sand. She waited, casting him a challenging look and he laughed when he understood her meaning, kicking off his own boots. His feet were surprisingly slender and very pale. Tahira took a step towards him, untying the sash which held her trousers in place.

Colour slashed his cheeks, but his hand caught her wrists. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’

She smiled then, knowing that her desire was reflected in her smile, confident now, despite her lack of experience. ‘Certain, Christopher,’ she said, and this time he believed her. His gaze was riveted on her hands as she untied the sash, letting the wide trousers drop to the sands. A sharp exhale again. He said her name, a low groan as he looked at her, clad only in her chemise and her short dizlik drawers, tied with lace at her knees.

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