Seduced by the Sultan

CHAPTER SIX


THE SEX WAS different.

Actually, Catrin quickly realised that pretty much everything was different.

Pressing the send button in reply to the text she’d just received from her sister, she walked out onto the terrace, where Murat was busy talking on the phone in the late afternoon sunshine. His Qurhahian aide Bakri often phoned at this time and the two men usually engaged in long talks about state affairs, which completely engrossed him. But today he looked up as he heard her approach and she read the slow smoulder of approval in his eyes.

Her heart lurched. The last day of their last weekend. Two days during which all the normal rules of their relationship seemed to have changed.

Or maybe it was simply her attitude which had changed. She had shown him a stronger Cat. A more decisive Cat. And in response, Murat had become more of an equal and less of a master.

He’d grown more tactile in ways which didn’t just involve sex. He held her in his arms when he was watching a football game. He had even cooked her lunch, while she sat on one of the window seats quietly finishing a book she couldn’t bear to put down. For two days, at least, their roles had been reversed and it made her wonder how on earth she had been prepared to accept so little from him before.

But she had set the agenda, hadn’t she? Murat had simply followed it. What man in the world wouldn’t lie back and enjoy a woman running round after him like that?

Inevitably, she found herself wishing that she could stay. She told herself that nothing was stopping her from doing that, since Murat had told her over and over that he didn’t want her to leave. Until she forced herself to remember that they still had no future together. All he was offering was a role as his mistress—and who knew when somebody younger and prettier would come along and supplant her? Because that was what happened to mistresses. Easy come, easy go.

She had the kind of background which most men would shy away from—let alone a powerful sultan. She was still the illegitimate daughter of an alcoholic mother and nothing would ever change that, either.

She thought back to the text she had just received from Rachel.

Really worried about Mum.

Catrin had felt fear descend on her like a dark cloud. She’d done all the stuff that the counsellors always recommended. In a hurried phone call, made while Murat had been in the shower, she had reminded her sister that she needed to take a step back. That nobody could stop an alcoholic from drinking if they were determined to do so. She didn’t want Rachel wasting any more of her university vacation, trying to help someone who didn’t want to be helped. She told her that next week she would be travelling down to Wales and she would take over and sort it out...though she wasn’t quite sure how. It was not a prospect she was looking forward to, but some strange kind of loyalty made it impossible to walk away from the mess her mother had made of her life.

And in the meantime, she still had the bitter task of saying goodbye to Murat.

The light summer breeze on the terrace was ruffling his black hair as he clicked off his phone and looked at her and she thought that he had never looked quite as gorgeous or as accessible as he did in that moment.

‘Such a serious expression,’ he mused. ‘You’re not regretting your decision to leave, are you?’

She said the words with way more conviction than she felt. ‘Definitely not.’

‘Are you sure?’ he persisted. ‘You don’t sound very sure. Think how good it’s been these last couple of days, Cat. And then think about all the days we could have together in the future.’

She was tempted. Of course she was. Faced with the choice of going it alone, or staying here with the man she still loved, there wasn’t much of a contest. Except that this wasn’t real. She was only ever going to be a stopgap in Murat’s life—and that was no longer enough.

She shrugged. ‘I have no doubt it would be wonderful in lots of ways, but it isn’t going to happen. So I’d advise you not to waste your time by trying to change my mind.’

His black gaze flicked over her, making her skin tingle as if someone had just brushed it with fire.

‘But what about if I asked for an extension?’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘What kind of extension?’

He leaned back against the wrought-iron balustrade and continued to study her, his attention lingering on the thrust of her breasts which were pushing insistently against her silky white shirt. ‘You remember I planned to meet with the wind-farm consortium in Italy?’

‘I thought that was next month.’

‘It was. But what if I’d managed to bring it forward? What if I told you that I’d persuaded Niccolo and Alekto to juggle their schedules and that we’re all flying out to Umbria tomorrow? Would you come with me, Cat?’

‘You’re telling me that you’ve managed to get two such powerful men to change their busy schedules based on nothing more than one of your whims?’

‘No, not on one of my whims.’ His mouth hardened into an implacable line. ‘More a determination to hang onto you for as long as possible.’

She shook her head. ‘You only want me because time is running out and because you’re used to getting your own way.’

‘No,’ he negated, and suddenly his voice sounded harsh and almost rough. ‘I want you because in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never stopped wanting you and I don’t think I ever will.’

‘Murat—’

‘But even putting aside your undoubted allure, your skill at playing hostess on these occasions has never been in any doubt. You make business seem almost like fun, and people always relax more if there is a woman around.’ He paused. ‘Two more days, that’s all. Think about it. Two days in the Italian sun with nothing to think about other than topping up your tan. Surely that must tempt you into changing your mind?’


Catrin gave a flat laugh. Topping up her tan? Didn’t he have any idea of what was going on inside her head? About her silent struggle to imagine the future, when she left this gilded world of his?

‘Stop being so manipulative.’

‘But sometimes manipulation is the only thing which works,’ he said, pulling her into his arms and tightening his hold on her waist before she had the chance to object.

His touch weakened her defences and the slow brush of his lips over hers made her want to melt. Yes, the sex was very different, she thought as he slipped his hand inside her bra. He made it feel as if it meant something. And it didn’t. It was still just sex.

But she made no protest as he led her back inside the apartment and started undressing her. And she let him. She did more than just let him. She assisted him. She helped him pull open her clothes with hands which were shaking almost as much as hers were, as her mouth reached hungrily for his.

She groaned as he touched her. And she writhed as he traced a finger around where she was hot and moist and quivering for his touch. Impatiently, he ripped open her panties and she took him into her arms, her eyes closing helplessly as she felt his warm weight on top of her. Did the sex just feel more poignant because the clock was ticking? she wondered. And was it the same for him?

She saw the flash of something unfamiliar in his eyes as he entered her with one slick stroke, before quickly finding his rhythm. He spoke in his native tongue as he moved—strange, guttural words which filled her with a terrible sadness, even while her orgasm began to build. Her body clenched just as he cried out her name, and her arms tightened around his back as pleasure swept over her.

Catrin could feel the dying spasms as he emptied his seed inside her—and all she could think was that some day his seed would bear fruit. But not with her. Some other woman would carry his child, but it would never be her.

He stirred and stroked an errant spill of hair away from her flushed face, levering himself up onto his elbows to stare down at her. ‘What would you say if I told you that today was one of the best days of my life? As was yesterday, and the day before that.’

‘I’d say you were being too smooth for your own good.’

He smiled, pulling her closer and burying his mouth in her hair. ‘Come to Italy with me, Cat,’ he said. ‘One last trip abroad, together. That’s all.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why not. Because it’s a bad idea.’ Half-heartedly, she tried to disentangle herself from his arms. ‘And will you please stop looking at me with that little-boy look? Because it isn’t going to work.’

‘Cat.’

He even made saying her name sound erotic and she could feel her resolve slipping. And suddenly she felt too overwhelmed with conflicting emotions and lingering pleasure to be able to resist him any longer. And why keep resisting something she really wanted to do?

‘A few days,’ she said. ‘That’s all. And after that I’m leaving.’

His eyes glittered as he stroked his hand over her bottom. ‘Of course you are.’