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charged as his gaze drifted over her. ‘I’m not talking about the strip place you worked at, although I’m sure there were many ladies ready to offer you a shoulder to cry on.’

      ‘Unfortunately, I don’t cry.’

      ‘What a surprise. But, seriously, Nadir. I hate to think that you still blame yourself for something that really wasn’t your fault.’

      ‘And I hate to think that we’re going to waste a whole evening while Nadeena is asleep rehashing an event that is best forgotten.’

      Deciding to ignore that, she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘Tell me this,’ she began quietly. ‘If this was Nadeena and she had made a mistake like the one you feel you made would you want her to punish herself for it for ever?’

      He pushed himself up from the sofa and paced away from her, holding himself rigid. ‘That’s unfair.’

      The fact that he’d even shared this side of himself with her made Imogen glow. It meant that he trusted her. And maybe it was time for her to start trusting him a little as well. ‘Maybe you’re the one who is being unfair. To yourself.’

      Without thinking too much about it, she went to him and wrapped her arms around his broad back.

      He stiffened but didn’t move away from her and she could feel the heat of his body through the thin cotton of his dish-dasha. ‘I think your mother and sister want you to be happy, don’t you?’

      He made a low sound in his throat that sounded like it came from a wounded animal and her heart felt as if it had been squeezed by a giant fist.

      Acting purely on instinct, she ran her hands across his broad shoulders and pressed herself closer. He didn’t move a muscle but she knew she’d got to him because his breathing quickened just a little. Circling around, she stopped directly in front of him and smoothed her hands over his chest.

      Emboldened by the fierce glitter in his eyes, she reached up and pulled his head down to hers. He yielded but she knew his mind was still in another place. A bad place.

      About to pull back and give him time, she groaned with pleasure as he plunged his hands into her hair and took her mouth in a hungry kiss that completely immobilised her. Dazed at the swift rise of arousal, she pulled at his robe and moaned in frustration when she could find no way into it. ‘These things are not fashioned for easy access, are they?’ she complained.

      Nadir growled and reefed the garment over his head and she heard one of the seams give in his haste to get it off.

      Trembling with excitement, Imogen dug her fingers into the waistband of the cotton pants he habitually wore beneath the dish-dasha but his hands shoved hers out of the way so he could pull at her own clothing.

      Hampered by the delicate khaleeji abaya she had chosen, he cursed in Arabic and she gasped when he grabbed hold of the neckline and ripped it clean down the middle. With her breasts bared to his gaze and his hands, Imogen felt her nipples peak as he bent his head to take one into his mouth. She threaded her fingers through his hair to hold him tight and felt his own skim down over her quivering belly, sucking in a deep breath as he ran the tips of his fingers around the lace between her legs.

      ‘So wet,’ he murmured. Imogen moved against him but his hands drifted to her thighs, gripping her hips as he dropped to his knees and kissed a line down her belly.

      ‘Nadir, I—’

      She didn’t finish her sentence because he hooked his fingers inside her panties to remove them and widened her stance with one hand while he delved between her legs with the other. Almost sobbing with need, Imogen placed her hands on his shoulders and watched as he pressed his face between her legs and stroked her with his tongue. She cried out as he pleasured her, her long hair swinging around them like a curtain as she almost bent double when her orgasm hit.

      ‘Imogen.’ Nadir lifted his head and scattered kisses across her pelvis. ‘Your taste drives me wild.’

      Gazing down at him with his knees spread wide on the carpet and his chest bare, Imogen swooned. ‘I want to taste you too.’

      She dropped to her knees as he rose before her and shoved the soft cotton pants down his legs. As always the sight of him aroused and erect gave her pause because he was just so big and imposing, so lethally male.

      ‘Touch me, habibi,’ he urged in a raw voice husky with need, his hands tangled in her hair, his warm strong fingers massaging her scalp. So she did. Flicking her tongue out to wrap around the head of his shaft as her hands slid rhythmically up and down. He let her have her way with him for what seemed like only seconds before he took over, groaning about self-control and need as he pushed her to the floor. Then he was above her and the only sounds that broke the silence were the mingling of their own harsh breaths.

      ‘Look at me, habibi,’ he commanded. ‘I love to watch your eyes as I come inside you.’

      ‘Nadir, please—’ Imogen threw back her head as he shifted his weight and then drove deeply into her slick heat. She couldn’t have said if her eyes were open or closed because she was in another world and when he brought his mouth down on hers in a demanding kiss she could hold nothing back as her world coalesced into this moment and then splintered into a trillion tiny pieces. He swore and Imogen held his head in her hands and wound her tongue around his as her orgasm continued to roll through her.

      Unable to contain his own climax, Nadir threw back his head and roared his own relief and Imogen knew she would do anything for this man. That she would follow him anywhere. That she loved him completely and utterly.

      God, did she? Had she really fallen for him all over again? No, she hadn’t fallen all over again because she’d never stopped loving him. She groaned and didn’t realise she’d made the sound out loud until Nadir swiftly rolled to the side so he was no longer covering her. ‘Are you okay?’

      Cold replaced his slick warm skin and she shivered. Was she okay? Would she ever be again?

      ‘Imogen, did I hurt you?’

      No, not yet. ‘No.’ She cleared her throat and shifted on the silk Persian carpet beneath her. ‘I’m fine.’ At least she hoped she was.

      He leaned over and cradled her cheek in the palm of his hand. ‘You’re sure? I wasn’t too rough?’

      God, he was divine. Beautifully rugged and so elementally male. Would he hurt her? Or did knowing that he would never love her mean that he didn’t have that power any more? Because it was the hope before that had made the crash-landing so disastrous, wasn’t it?

      ‘Imogen, you’re scaring me.’

      ‘I’m sorry. I’m fine. I was just thinking...I was thinking that this thing...’

      She fluttered her hands between them and he smiled. ‘It only gets better. Stronger.’

      Was he feeling it too? Was it possible he had fallen for her as well? ‘Yes,’ she whispered, her heart lodged somewhere near her throat and constricted her breathing. ‘I...’

      ‘Yes,’ he agreed and pushed her hair back from her face. ‘Every time we make love I want you more. I wouldn’t have said that was possible. It’s certainly never happened to me before.’

      ‘Possible...’ And then his meaning became clear and she felt quite ill. ‘Sex?’ He was talking about sex...

      ‘Not just sex.’ His eyebrow rose in a sexy slant. ‘Hot sex.’ He kissed her. ‘Great sex.’ Another kiss. ‘Phenomenal sex.’ His smile was sinful and Imogen buried her face against his neck.

      God, she had nearly made an utter fool of herself by blurting out what was in her heart and he was talking about sex!

      ‘I’ve made you blush.’

      She forced herself to laugh softly because what else could she do?

      ‘You feel the same.’ There was a deep

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