Chapter Twenty-Six
The journey home is an uncomfortable one, a ribbon of melancholy weaving through the silence of the car. I want to hear him deny her, need his reassurance, but the questions remain balled in my throat.
‘I’ll call when I’m ready,’ he directs Rashid as we pull alongside my building. I open the door without waiting. I want to get this over with, a quick escape to lick my wounds, but his hand is on my arm before I can step out.
‘Wait, please.’
‘Just let me go.’ I won’t look at him, won’t let the straining tears fall.
‘You don’t want me to come in?’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’ My head is rigid, eyes unseeing beyond the window. As he murmurs something low in Arabic, Rashid steps from the car without a word.
‘Please.’ His voice is as soft and compelling as his hand on my arm. I lean back against the seat, eyes closed in a moment of tear taming. ‘She and I...’
His hand hovers over my own in indecision as a traitorous drop rolls down my cheek.
‘I don’t want to know,’ I lie, biting my lip, determined not to do this, to not let him see me cry. I want to appear grown up, like a sophisticated woman of the world, or at least what I think this mythical creature looks like.
No promises were made so why does this hurt?
‘Sof—it means nothing. Itmeantnothing. I thought we were both on the same page.
I’ve heard this line before. Why do they think it’ll help? Blood pounds in my ears as I open my eyes. He rubs a rough hand through his hair but doesn’t look at me. Instead, resting his elbows on his knees, he drags a hand down his face. ‘It was never serious. She has a husband and that suited me fine.’
‘You’re not doing yourself any favours here,’ I whisper.Fuck, adultery.
‘You don’t understand.’
‘I think that’s supposed to be her line.’
Determined not to look at him, I shake my head, irritated with myself, trying hard to refuse to acknowledge my sadistic curiosity. The craving to hear every dirty, sordid detail to torture myself with. I close my eyes and screw them tight against the imagining, desperate to resist the images flooding my brain.
I have an odd and sudden sense of dislocation as his hand touches mine, opening my eyes to his long, elegant fingers resting over mine. Fingers that know the ways of my body. Fingers that have stroked my insides.
‘If it’s over, why was she there?’
‘Playing games, curiosity, I don’t know. I called her house, went to her office but she refused to see me, didn’t return my calls. She knew, Kate. She had to know. I haven’t seen her or, since you and I... I was supposed to be meeting her...our first night at the hotel—’
‘ThatI don’t want to hear.’ Acid rises, squalid fingertips pulling at my throat. I snatch the handle of the door. He was on his way to see her, fresh from the shower, damp and smelling fantastic. I let him fuck me, allowed myself to be used. Was I just more convenient?
‘No—I was going to end it that night—I was on my way. Then I saw you.’ His hands grasp my shoulders, words a fervent plea. ‘I couldn’t believe it. I was so happy to see you, ecstatic that you trusted enough to come back to the room. Don’t punish me for something that happened before you.’
‘I have to go.’ Out of the car, my steps falter at his next words.
‘Kate, the things I feel for you, I have no name for.’
‘Just... just... give me some time.’ I half turn my head over my shoulder. I should hate myself but instead, I’m numb.And what? Want him still.
‘I have to go away for a few days, for business. Riyadh. Will you see me when I get back?’ His voice is soft and hesitant, his eyes unreadable in the dark interior of the car.
‘Maybe,’ I whisper.
I take another step and refuse to look back.
Dropping my purse to the floor, I kick off my shoes with a savageness they don’t deserve, throwing myself across the bed fully clothed. Words and insinuations whirl through my head. My god, wasn’t learning this lesson once painful enough?
Moving to Dubai was supposed to be an escape from humiliation and heartache, a chance to be made over. A fresh start, not a repeat. But I couldn’t have anticipated Kai, six feet plus of hot, gorgeous and filthy, twisting my mind and body into complicated knots. Around him, my willpower, good sense and defences seem to turn to dust. And, against all my good intentions, and no matter what I tell myself, I think I’ve fallen in love.
But can I—should I—trust him? And why would I risk putting myself through this again? Unfinished and dislocated words swirl around me, my head a riot of conflicting thought. That he says he feels for me, but can’t give those emotions a name, no matter how many times I try, I can’t put a positive spin on that.
Hugging my knees to my chest, I begin to sob.
