The Sheikh's Last Gamble by Trish Morey

Author:Trish Morey
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781408974292
Publisher: HarlequinUKLtd
Published: 2012-06-30T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

HIS lips tasted of sweet coffee and promises, of heated desire and the unmistakeable flavour of the man himself.

‘It won’t work,’ she said in spite of the promise in his kiss, some shred of logic filtering through the fog of desire, that shred telling her that they been here before and it had not ended well that time.

He hushed her with his clever mouth and his persuasive lips and she let herself be persuaded for just a moment, giving herself up to his kiss and his touch, his hand at her throat feeling a frantic heartbeat in his touch, not knowing if it was his or hers.

The moment stretched and stretched. But she would stop this, she told herself, remembering another night when she had given herself up to his love-making, another night when she had given in to desire and passion only to be bluntly reminded of what he really thought of her. She remembered the anger she had felt then, trying to summon it up to give her strength when all she could feel was desire, need and the pulsing insistence between her thighs.

The low fire crackled and popped, somewhere close by a camel softly snorted, and the indulgence of a moment became a minute or longer.

‘Come to my tent,’ he murmured, his hot mouth at her throat, his big hands molding her to him, his tongue writing its own scorching invitation on her flesh.

‘No,’ she whispered, turning her face away from his mouth, wishing she had been stronger from the start, wishing she was not so damned weak when it came to him despite all the hurt he had caused her, all the anger and despair. No, she revised—because of all the hurt, anger and despair. She should be stronger. ‘I can’t.’

But he didn’t let her go. Instead his hand found one aching breast, brushing his thumb across her straining nipple, and she groaned into his mouth as spears of pleasure let fly to her core. ‘Let’s finish this, Marina. This time let’s finish what we have started.’

With his hand making magic on her breast, and his hot mouth promising every conceivable pleasure, his words sounded so reasonable, so rational, that she almost succumbed.

But she had never wanted reasonable or rational from him. She had only ever wanted his love, in return for hers. And, in the end, that was what had killed their relationship.

She dragged in air, summoning all the strength she could find as she took his face between her hands and eased him away, a tear squeezing from her eye when she saw his eyes looked as tortured as she herself felt. ‘Bahir,’ she said, shaking her head slowly. ‘Our time is past. It is gone. There is no point to this.’

Her words were met with an expression of disbelief, as if he could make no sense of her words. She smiled softly, trying to make him see. ‘You know there is no point.’ She watched his face as disbelief turned to disagreement and then anger.

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