‘A wife?’
She was dimly aware of his pause before he said, ‘No wife.’
A heartbeat of silence and then he urged, ‘Hold me, Maggie.’
She needed no second urging. Maggie slid her arms around him and burrowed close to his heat. She knew later she’d be horribly embarrased but for now her need for comfort drove her beyond her usual diffidence.
His arms tightened around her and a shiver rippled through Maggie as his warmth seeped into her bones. The rock-solid strength of him, the tangible, living power of muscle and bone and sinew, were more real than anything else in the world. His unique spicy scent invaded her nostrils, making her nerves tingle into an awareness that had nothing to do with solace.
The scent, the feel, even the sound of him, the powerful throb of his heart beneath her ear, were all wondrous. She pressed her face to the fine silk of his shirt. Through the fabric his skin was hot, taut and inviting. She breathed deep, drawing in the heady aroma of warm, healthy male.
That was when she registered his quickening heartbeat, the changed tempo of his breathing. Tentatively she lifted a hand to splay over his chest.
The tiniest of tremors rippled across his skin. The hand palming her back ceased its movement and his other hand clamped down on her arm, as if to drag it away.
Thunder echoed in her ears as her pulse raced. Suddenly this innocent embrace had transformed into something charged with unspoken danger.
With excitement. And longing. It bubbled up inside her like a newfound spring—the need for more. The need for him. This was nothing like what she’d felt with Marcus. This was… elemental, as sudden as a thunderclap and just as unmistakable, even to someone of her limited experience.
Heat blossomed deep within as her breath caught, stilled by the stunning realisation of how much more she wanted from this man.
‘It’s time you moved.’ His voice sounded stretched.
Heat flamed her cheeks. What was she thinking? He’d offered her comfort, not a sexual invitation. Just because she felt that sunburst of white-hot desire didn’t mean it was reciprocated. Hadn’t she learned anything tonight?
‘Maggie, you need to sit up. You don’t want to do something you’ll regret later.’
She frowned. Something she’d regret?
‘What do you mean?’ she whispered at last.
Strong hands pried her away, gently pushing her back to her corner of the sofa. Ebony eyes met hers. His face was grim, his mouth a tight line.
‘You’re upset. You’re not yourself. It’s time to end this. You don’t want to play with fire.’
‘Fire?’ She wasn’t normally obtuse, but surely he didn’t mean what she thought he meant. Was it even remotely possible that he felt it too? The sudden overwhelming need for intimacy that ousted everything else? The consuming hunger? A need for her, for plain, no-frills Maggie Lewis?
His gaze narrowed, flicking down to her mouth, and lower to the V-neck of the robe she wore. Flames licked her skin beneath his trailing gaze and tension coiled tight in her belly as her breathing shortened.
‘I’m a man, Maggie. If we don’t stop now it won’t be comfort I’ll be giving you. It will be something much more intimate.’
The words echoed on and on in the silence between them. They should have shocked her, made her draw back. But instead the blatant weight of sensuality in his bald statement had the opposite effect. Excitement tingled down her spine and drew her stomach muscles tight.
Maggie strove to be sensible, careful, reserved, all the things she’d been before tonight.
But something vital had changed. Now, for the first time, she knew what it was to want a man. Really want, with every fibre of her body. It was an urgent, unstoppable force. A compulsion shuddering through her very bones.
She had two choices. She could pretend this wasn’t real. Shrug on her usual self-effacing persona and try to hide from this surge of powerful desire. Or she could welcome it; give in to the strongest need she’d ever felt.
She could be bold or she could be sensible.
She’d spent a lifetime being sensible and self-sacrificing. Where had that got her?
‘And you don’t want to do that?’
She didn’t recognise her hoarse voice. Excitement and anxiety closed her throat. She couldn’t believe she’d just invited another rebuff, but the new sensations heating her blood were too compelling to ignore. She had to know.
Hooded eyes surveyed her and she felt the distance grow between them. He was going to reject her. Something dimmed inside her.
Finally he spoke. ‘I shouldn’t.’ He raised his hand and thrust it back through his hair in a jerky gesture. ‘I shouldn’t but…yes, God help me, I want to.’
CHAPTER THREE
HE COULDN’T. He mustn’t.
This woman was exhausted, not thinking clearly. He mustn’t take advantage, no matter that his need for her was visceral, all-consuming. She deserved his protection.
Her eyes glowed a shimmering green-gold. She looked pale but beautiful, her fine-boned features pure, alluring and incredibly sexy with that hopeful pout.
‘You’re hurt. This is your pain speaking.’ Khalid forced the words out. ‘But this isn’t the answer. You want someone who can give you more. More than a few snatched hours.’
More than a man who could only promise physical pleasure. Who had given up on emotional commitment years before.
For one absurd moment he felt a piercing jealousy for the man who’d one day give Maggie Lewis everything she wanted.
Her chin tilted fractionally in a way that spoke of pride and pain together.
‘What if I said a few snatched hours are exactly what I want? That I’m not in the market for anything more? Not any longer?’
Tension held Khalid rigid as desire spiralled and his groin tightened. Each muscle was rock-hard at the effort of remaining still when he wanted to lean over and imprison her beneath his hungry body.
Desire he understood. He had a healthy male appreciation of a sexy woman. But this craving was something else entirely. It shook him to the core. Unbelievably this felt far more significant than the simple sexual urge he’d assuaged through the recent years with beautiful, willing women.
This felt…different. More real, more vital than anything he’d experienced in years.
A shadowed vision of velvet-soft brown eyes filled his mind and pain lanced his chest.
‘No. I can’t.’ He forced the words out over a constricting throat.
‘Yes, of course.’ Her whisper drew his sensitised flesh to prickling alert. ‘I understand.’
Khalid drew a shuddering breath. He’d done the right thing, the honourable thing. Now he just had to—
The sight of her bowed head, her white teeth cutting deep into her bottom lip, brought him up short.
‘Thank you for helping me tonight,’ she said stiffly, looking away. ‘I’m sorry I embarrassed you with my…with my…’ She shook her head and soft hair the colour of toffee swirled round her neck, catching the light.
‘I apologise,’ she murmured, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘You must have women coming on to you all the time.’
Apologise?
Her profile was taut, her lips pinched. His chest hollowed as he realised he’d caused her more distress. Instinct overcame caution as he cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face around. She