Modern Romance April 2017 Books 5 - 8. Кейт Хьюит
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was helpless beneath his hot gaze, everything in her yearning. ‘Yes, I do. But...’ It was the feeblest resistance. She couldn’t even finish the sentence.
‘But?’ Malik prompted. He was walking towards her with slow, sure strides. Gracie didn’t move. He stopped in front of her, close enough so she could feel his heat and her body swayed helplessly towards his. ‘But nothing. It is strong between us, Grace. It always has been.’ He held her by the shoulders, his expression fierce and primal.
Gracie’s heart started to thud hard as her body came in achingly close contact with Malik’s, her breasts brushing the hard plane of his chest. ‘Malik...’ she whispered, her voice a plea, her head dropping back and her lips parting in blatant invitation. He was right. It was as strong as ever. Need was crashing over her in desperate waves, her body longing for his touch, her mouth demanding his kiss.
And he gave it, his mouth coming down on hers, hard and hot and yet so sweet. Gracie scrabbled at his shoulders with her hands, drawing him closer, needing the feel of his powerful body against hers. The ache in her centre intensified as she felt his arousal thrusting against her. It had been so long since she’d felt this way. Since she’d wanted someone so much, and he’d wanted her. It had been ten whole years.
Malik skimmed his hands down her body, anchoring her hips against his as he plundered her mouth. With each deliberate thrust of his body against hers, pleasure spiked through her and she moaned. Was she going to humiliate herself by falling apart at the first touch of his hands? And yet it would be so wonderful.
Through the desire-dazed fog of her brain she realised Malik had stopped moving against her. He eased away, his breath coming out in a ragged shudder. ‘Not like this,’ he said in a low voice. ‘There is no need for us to rush.’
‘But we shouldn’t do this...’ The sentiment sounded paltry and token. It was. Because even though she knew they shouldn’t, that it would be complicated and difficult, she wanted to. So much.
Malik’s teeth gleamed as his mouth curved in a faint and yet proprietorial smile. ‘Your argument is not convincing. But there will be time to discuss that later. For now we can enjoy each other’s company in another way. A meal is being prepared in the dining room. Come and eat.’
He held out his hand, and, with her heart feeling as if it were beating its way up her throat, Gracie took his hand and let him lead her from the bedroom.
THE MOOD WAS PERFECT. Candlelight, crystal, delicious food. Sam had eaten a child’s meal of chicken nuggets and chips beforehand and was happily ensconced in the media room with an array of the latest DVDs, video games and books. The jet’s dining room was intimate, curtains drawn across the windows, making it feel like a private parlour in the sky. They were as alone as they could be...which was what Malik wanted.
His blood was still heated from that delicious encounter with Gracie in the bedroom. He had not anticipated seducing her so soon, and in fact he’d felt as if he’d been the one to be seduced. His desire for Gracie had overwhelmed him until he’d been acting out of base instinct and incredible need. But then so had she.
Still he needed to be careful and deliberate with his plans. He needed to convince Gracie that a convenient marriage could work between them without complicating it with emotion or love, which he suspected she would want. Somehow he would convince her of the sense and appeal of his plan. Their kiss earlier was just the beginning.
Gracie stood in the doorway of the dining room and glanced uncertainly at the crystal and silver-laid table. ‘This is...nice,’ she ventured, and Malik pulled out her chair.
‘I’m glad you think so.’
Slowly she walked towards the chair and sat down. Malik took the liberty of placing her napkin in her lap, his fingers brushing her thighs. He felt a tremor go through her, and it gave him an almost savage satisfaction. ‘You are still affected by me, Grace.’
‘I think you had already figured that out.’ Her breath came out in a shudder. ‘Some things never change, I guess.’
‘I am glad.’ He sat down opposite her and poured them both wine.
Gracie eyed the glass full of ruby-red liquid askance. ‘You used to call me Gracie.’
The name made him think of sweeter, more innocent times. He could not go back to being that boy again. ‘Yes,’ he agreed with an incline of his head, and said nothing more.
‘You’ve changed, Malik.’ The statement, given so matter-of-factly, shook him more than he cared to admit. ‘Or maybe you haven’t, and that boy I knew back in Rome never existed.’ The tremulous note of hurt in her voice made him tense. ‘We’ve never talked about that, you know. Why...why did you push me away? Tell me to go? I mean,’ she continued in a rush, taking a sip of wine, ‘I wasn’t expecting hearts and roses. Well, not exactly. But I thought we shared something more special than...than it seemed in that moment.’
Malik remained silent, his mind racing as he considered how to answer her question. He hadn’t expected her to be so honest, and in a reckless moment he decided to return her honesty with his own.
‘We did share something unique.’
‘Yeah, right.’ She shook her head, clearly disbelieving, trying for bravado even though he saw an alarming vulnerability in her eyes. ‘Just tell me this, at least. Was I... Was I really your first?’
A tightness formed in Malik’s chest. ‘Yes.’ Gracie’s gaze searched his face, looking for truth. ‘I told you I’d lived a sheltered life, Grace. Nothing I said that night was a lie.’
‘Then why were you so cold the next morning? Why did you basically boot me out of your bed? I mean, you could have given me the “it was fun, but” speech. I think I could have taken it.’ Her voice wobbled slightly and she pushed a tendril of wavy golden-brown hair behind one delicate ear. ‘Maybe not, though. Maybe you thought a quick cut would be better, especially with your grandfather in the room.’
‘That night was like a dream to me,’ Malik said slowly, choosing his words with care. ‘A time out of reality. Waking up, discovering my grandfather there, that was what life was really like. And the truth was I’d acted very foolishly, being seen in public with you.’
Gracie jerked back at this. ‘Ouch.’
‘Not because of who you were, but who I was. Am. I could not be seen dallying with a Western woman. Such news, if it reached Alazar, had the potential to create civil unrest among my people who wanted a more traditional heir to the throne.’
‘And what about now? Bringing your Western son back to your country? Won’t that be greeted with a few raised eyebrows?’
She was quick, he had to give her that. ‘Potentially, yes,’ Malik said calmly. ‘But the information to the public will be controlled. No one will know Sam is my son until I want them to know.’
Her eyes widened as another thought assailed her. ‘Will there be publicity? For Sam? I can’t stand the thought of him being hounded by the press...’
‘He will not be hounded.’
‘Why does anyone need to know? It’s not like Sam is going to be living in Alazar.’
Malik pressed his lips together. This conversation was starting to become dangerous. ‘His life has changed, Grace, as have yours and mine. We cannot pretend that is not the case.’
‘I know.’ She toyed with her wine glass. ‘I just don’t want it to change too much.’
‘Don’t you?’ he asked quietly, and she glanced up, her eyes narrowing.
‘What do you mean by that?’
Malik spread his hands, keeping his voice mild. ‘You intimated before that your life was less than satisfactory. It’s